It started out as a normal day.
As normal as things could be these days for Rebecca. Truth was she was rattled by what had happened with Sid. It had been nearly two weeks and the feelings, the anticipation, the thrills that had rushed through her when his fingers found hers, still resonated. But what also resonated was his face and that phone call and the harsh reality she so uncharacteristically seemed to keep ignoring. The truth had been shoved, unceremoniously and violently in her face and she had to accept it.
It was ridiculous anyway. She had to keep reminding herself of that. Everytime she walked the halls of the Igloo, saw the banners, the posters, with his image larger than life, she was reminded that he was untouchable. He was in a completely different realm from her and it would be in her best interest to remember that.
But she'd felt it. And she kind of thought he'd felt it too.
But it didn't matter. He was with someone else and in order for her to be able to come to the arena and do her work, she had to keep her distance.
For real this time.
And it worked. In these two weeks Rebecca had barely seen Sid. Their schedules ran in opposite directions. And for Rebecca she found a reluctant relief in that. It was hard for her to sort out these feelings and when she was around him, it was nearly impossible.
And so a normal routine began. Work, school, sleep, repeat.
Sure there were glimpses here and there. A wave from the distance, a smile across the room. Friendly, but nothing more.
While she may have been a lowly intern, there was no denying there was tension in the building. Everyone was feeling it and the rumbling rumors had begun that a major shakeup was going to need to take place.
Everyone was a little on edge, Rebecca observed. Walking by one late morning, she'd seen Sid and Max in a tense conversation. She couldn't hear what they were discussing and hurried past the locker room, not wanting to know.
The less she knew the better.
So while an entire organization sat at the precipice of disaster, Rebecca just kept with her routine.
And so, it started out as a normal day, just a few days before Valentine's Day and she wasn't surprised when she got home that afternoon that a small package was waiting for her.
The return address showed the package had come from home. While her college care packages didn't measure up to the ones she'd seen come through the dorms from mothers who had an overabundance of time, creativity and devotion, her dad did pretty decent job considering.
Setting down her belongings, Rebecca grabbed a knife from the kitchenette and opened the package. A deep red card sat on top. Opening the only Valentine she would receive this year, she smiled at the funny cartoon on the cover and the short but sweet message on the inside. Along with the card was a small heart shaped box filled with chocolates, a bag of trail mix, a package of sharpies and a short note from Molly. At the bottom of the box sat a small pile of mail. Rebecca didn't usually get much mail, in fact, other than a magazine and a postcard from a high school friend who was doing a semester abroad in Australia, there was only one envelope. The return address read New Haven and Rebecca felt her pulse begin to race.
It had to be her financial aid package.
Rebecca cast aside all the other items and tore into the letter. She scanned the words, rifled through the pages that listed numbers and dollar signs and after ten minutes of reading and analyzing, Rebecca felt her stomach drop and a tidal wave of disappointment wash over her.
She wasn't going to Yale.
She couldn't go to Yale.
There were three numbers that stood out, but only one really mattered.
Cost of Attendance: $73,000.
Financial Assistance Awarded: $30,000
Student Expected Contribution: $43,000
$43,000.
She was 20 years old. Where was she going to get $43,000?
Rebecca read through the information again and glanced at the clock. 7:45. The offices were closed. So instead she dialed her dad.
After a lengthy conversation things looked bleak.
Her dad made good money but not great money, which meant they fell in the dreaded middle area. Too rich for significant financial aid, but too poor to pay out of pocket.
Daniel had discussed taking out a second mortgage on the house, but Rebecca squashed the idea immediately. He was a single parent and already on a budget. How could she ask him to do that, and even so it wouldn't be enough. Plus the $43,000 was per year. 12 months from now she'd have to come up with it all over again.
She waited until she hung up to let the tears fall. Huge, disappointed tears fell down her cheeks and she stared at the papers. The small glimmer of hope lay with a conversation she could have tomorrow with the aid office. Surely other students were faced with the same challenges. She couldn't be the only middle class person to go to Yale Law.
It wasn't fair.
It was like some sick joke. Giving her admittance only to take any hope away with staggering tuition bills. It wasn't right.
Suddenly she felt tired. Exhausted. She emailed Claude and let him know she wouldn't be in tomorrow. She needed the day to figure this out. Because under the exhaustion and defeat. Under the disappointment and sadness, lay a panic. And it was raw and real. And frantic. This was not part of the plan. This couldn't be it. This couldn't be where her story changed.
And suddenly everything she'd worried about this morning or last week, it didn't matter. It was small and inconsequential.
Because if she didn't go to Yale, then what would she do?
Who would she be?
By 4 o'clock the next day, it was official. After nine frustrating hours of talking and emailing, faxing and following up, working numbers and strategizing budgets, the writing was on the wall: she wasn't go to Yale.
At least not anytime soon.
The admissions office did inform her that she could defer up to two years. That some students did that. Used the years to work and save money to pay the tuition. Rebecca wasn't quite sure how she'd be able to sock away $43,000 in two years, but time was on her side. If she could save up the money, she could be in Connecticut by the age of 23.
The number was daunting but if anyone was up for the challenge it was Rebecca. It didn't change the fact that she was soaked in despair and disappointment but that glimmer, that small tidbit of hope still remained. Yale would hold her spot for two years.
She had to get to work.
And that meant a harsh truth.
She had to get to work at a job that paid actual money.
She had to leave the Igloo. For real this time.
She couldn't live in this fantasy world. She couldn't entertain silly notions that late night pizza and misconstrued touches meant anything.
Reality, real life, was staring her in the face. She couldn't ignore it, she'd fall too fast if she did.
On Monday she'd give her notice and this time even a silly crush couldn't change her mind.
6-2.
Final score out of the Air Canada Centre, Maple Leafs 6, Penguins 2. They'd blown a 2-0 lead, giving up six goals in two periods. It had been ugly.
The atmosphere in the visitors locker room was silent. Players looked more dejected that Sid had ever seen in a locker room. And he didn't know what to do. He had that C on his chest, but at this moment he had no idea how to use it. Coach didn't even give post game remarks. Quietly and quickly the team's stuff was packed up and they were on their way back to Pittsburgh. Before they touched down, he knew.
Michel Therrien had coached his last game for the Penguins.
Coach Killer.
Sid had heard the term before but he was always too confident, too sure, that he and that term would never be associated, but he was wrong. Eight months ago they'd been playing for the Stanley Cup, now they were in real danger of not making the playoffs. It was just before midnight when he said goodnight to the boys and made his way to his car.
His mind was racing, a lump had formed in the back of his throat. And then came the text message to confirm it. Direct from Mario himself. He said he wanted Sid to know ahead of time, so he could be prepared and help the team deal with what was coming. But Sid didn't know what to do, what to say.
Mario would want to talk about it when he got home. His dad was at the game and just shook his head when his son had emerged from the dressing room. On the plus side, there wasn't enough time for Troy to dissect what had once again gone wrong.
And so Sid just sat in his car, afraid to move forward.
Finally with a deep sigh, he put the car in reverse, left his spot and made his way out of the airport parking lot.
Only he didn't take the route back to Sewickley. Instead, he headed for the tunnels.
And 20 minutes later he was standing in front of a door. Her door.
Rebecca was feeling pretty buzzed. She'd spent the whole day wallowing in self pity. Under the covers, staring at the wall, convinced her life was over. Then at 9:00 p.m. she'd changed into a clean pair of pajamas, emerged from her cocoon and decided she wanted a drink.
Problem was that she didn't drink much so there wasn't anything to chose from in her kitchen. Finally after some digging, she found a bottle of peach schnapps she'd gotten as a going away present when she'd left the dorms. It didn't look very appealing but beggars couldn't be choosers, so cracked open the bottle and poured herself a full glass.
She padded over to the living room, pulled out a few selections from her dvd collection and settled on the couch with bad liquor and bad movies, for a pretty bad Valentine's Day.
She'd been halfway through the second movie, when her brain had become fuzzy and her whole body felt warm and gooey. At first she thought she was imagining the sound, but then she heard it again.
She didn't live in the best neighborhood, so she was leery at first. She waited for a minute, hoping whoever it was would go away. But the knocking persisted. Walking quietly to the door, she looked through the small peephole and was surprised at who she saw.
She looked at the clock. 12:30.
The knocking continued, so she opened the door.
"Hey."
"Hey," she echoed, not quite sure she was believing what she was seeing.
Sidney stood before her looking at her as if coming to apartment in the middle of the night was the most normal thing in the world.
"What are you doing here?" she asked bluntly. The peach schnapps had her blood stream strumming and the strange buzz didn't help make sense of this unexpected visit.
"Can I come in?"
Again, he made it all seem normal.
"I don't know," she said truthfully. Was this something she wanted to happen? What even was this?
"Please?" The mask of indifference disappeared and suddenly he looked tired and sad. His usual youthful and friendly face was tight with tension and worn with worry.
"Are you ok?" she asked, still deciding what she should do. The dilemma was sobering her up quickly.
"Not really. It's cold out here." He said, the obvious hint oblivious to Rebecca.
"It's February. It's Valentine's Day." she said dumbly, finally processing the cold air that was rushing through the open doorway.
Sid looked confused for a moment, "It is?"
Rebecca hadn't had time to indulge the theory that he was here because of the holiday. That somehow what had happened a few weeks ago and the symbolic nature of the day played a role in Sid standing here at this moment. She hadn't had time to think it, but now that he'd proved it false, her mind was quickly wandering.
"Yeah. I mean not anymore, it's late. What are you doing here?" Rebecca repeated herself and the coldness was finally starting to permeate. She was wearing plaid pajama pants with a Pitt t-shirt and they did nothing to keep her warm from the cold.
"I just got in. I didn't know where else to go. I just needed to talk to someone." Sid said quickly, his expression was pleading and Rebecca's shock was starting to wear off.
"Ok," Rebecca said nodding and she quickly moved out of the doorway and gestured for him to come inside.
He gave her a grateful look as he brushed past her. The scent of soap and wool filled her nostrils and clouded her senses.
She watched as he unbuttoned his coat and peeled the expensive wool from his frame, revealing a dark suit underneath, no tie with the top buttons of his shirt undone. He pulled the hat from his head and raked his hand through the pieces of hair that stood up defiantly.
He stood in the doorway, as if he also didn't know what to do. Finally he tossed his outerwear onto a nearby chair and toed off his dress shoes.
Rebecca's heart began beat a little bit faster at how naturally he was making himself at home.
"Is everything ok?" she asked, the buzz was quickly fading, but her cheeks were flushed and she felt sloppy in her pajamas and the messy knot that sat at the top of her head.
"We lost tonight." Sid said plainly.
That's nothing new, Rebecca thought.
"They're firing Michel tomorrow."
Rebecca looked at the resignation on Sid's face and her heart softened just a little.
"It's my fault." Sid continued.
"It's not," she started to say, but Sid's attention was lost as he honed in on the bottle on the coffee table and the tv screen.
"Are you drinking?" His voice was curious and suddenly he was looking at her like a textbook.
"A little bit," she said with a shrug.
He gave a half grin, "Can I have some?"
"I don't know if that's a good id-" but Rebecca couldn't finish her sentence as Sid quickly brushed past her and picked up the bottle.
"Peach schnapps?" He asked making a face.
Rebecca started to defend her choice, but instead said, "I don't know if you should be here."
Sid sighed and looked at her. "I don't want to go home."
Rebecca wasn't sure how to respond to that, so instead she asked, "Are you sure he's getting fired?".
Sid nodded and then looked at the screen.
"Is this Earthquake?" he asked and didn't wait for Rebecca to answer, "I love this movie."
"You do?" Rebecca was surprised he'd recognized the film from the mid 70s.
"Totally, its so bad its good. I love all these disaster movies, I used to watch them when I was a kid. The worse, the better. You know?"
Rebecca did know. She loved these movies too. She got hooked on them when she was young and over the years she'd garnered an impressive dvd collection.
"Do you have an extra glass?" He asked, holding the bottle up.
This episode of The Twilight Zone Rebecca was currently starring in, resumed as she walked to the kitchen a retrieved a glass.
She brought it back to the small living room and handed it to Sid, their fingers brushed and she tried to ignore the shiver that shot up her spine.
Sid seemed to notice too, but didn't say anything. Instead, he poured himself a shot and downed it in one gulp, then grimaced.
"Ugh, this stuff is terrible." But before Rebecca could protest, he poured another shot and downed that one too.
Then he dropped down onto her couch and fell back, his eyes trained on the tv. "Oh I love this part. The effects are so cheesy."
Rebecca walked around the coffee table and sat down next to him.
Despite what he said, Sid didn't seem too interested in talking anymore. He made a face as she watched him take another sip of his drink, then turned to her and gave a weak smile. It was in that smile that she knew that for him, this was enough to make everything that was bad, better. He hadn't needed someone to talk to. Not really anyway. He had plenty of people ready at all hours to talk about what was about to go down. He just needed to be somewhere, where he wasn't alone and Rebecca didn't realize till right now that she needed the same thing. Where words and explanations were unnecessary and comfort could be found with just sitting on a couch watching a dumb movie with someone else.
Someone else who knew. Someone who was going through the same thing. Sid didn't need to explain to Rebecca what it was like to work so hard for something and come up short. To get to the top of the mountain, only to find an unreachable peak hiding behind the clouds. To think that you've made it, when you've really just come up a little bit short. And what that feels like. How empty it makes you, how trivial all the sacrifices seem, because it wasn't enough. You weren't enough.
Sid didn't need to tell Rebecca because she knew. She knew that feeling and how small it makes you feel, how inferior. That you were the one chosen to accomplish this feat and you failed. And how frustrating that is. To come so close and its not enough.
And Rebecca could tell him. She could right now let him know that everything he was feeling, she was feeling too. But not right now. Not tonight.
Tonight she just poured another glass of the sickenly sweet drink and laughed at the screen.
And she wasn't alone.
Now
After he leaves, I take a minute to collect myself. I can't think too clearly and for once I'm grateful for the fog. Because when this haze lifts and clarity comes, so will the doubts and the fears and I'm tired of feeling scared. So I just sit for a moment and I collect myself.
Finally, I smooth down my hair and I open the bottom left drawer to where the week's worth of gifts sit. I pull out the dumb bear and the cards. I open each one. The messages are brief. Clumsily written and awkward, but sweet. But not really surprising considering our history of not saying what we mean.
I pull out my tote and I put the gifts inside. Its nearly 3 o'clock and the idea of doing work right now is laughable. I'm too distracted.
And so I let my mind rewind and press play. To the kisses, the touches. Feeling him, smelling him. Knowing that if it went any further I wouldn't say no. Couldn't say no.
But he understood. And the way he looked at me, still send tingles up and down my arms and I'm smiling, a goofy smile. I can feel it spread across my face and I allow myself to feel it.
Happiness.
"Knock, knock," a sing-songy voice breaks the silence and my thoughts.
Quickly I straighten my spine and wipe the grin off my face. I spin around in my seat and face the entrance.
It's Sue. From accounting.
She doesn't give me a chance to respond, but instead comes into my office and I quickly kick the work tote under my desk.
"I thought I'd bring you those expense reports you were asking about," she says, thrusting a file towards me.
"Th-thank you." I stumble with my words, still trying to clear my foggy brain.
She gives me a once over and I can only imagine what she must be thinking. I never thought of Sue as an office gossip. The fact that she's been here forever made me thought she'd think of all this as silly and shallow.
"I heard Sidney isn't engaged anymore." Sue says and I'm not sure where she's going with this.
Through he coke bottled glasses I swear I almost see a twinkle in her eye.
"No?" I say, playing dumb.
"No." She smiles warmly and my pulse quickens. "Seems that rumor was squashed pretty quickly once he returned. It was silly anyway, but you know this place."
I don't say anything.
"I've been married 35 years, did you know that?" She looks at me curiously, the frizzy hair haloing her head, but not in a bad way.
"No, I didn't." I reply.
"Yup, met at work. He worked in maintenance. Retired now." She gets a faraway look on her face and it feels weird because this is...Sue.
I just nod. I don't know if she wants to say more and if she does, I'm wary about what it will be.
Instead she just shrugs.
"Sometimes we shouldn't ask ourselves why. Sometimes we should ask ourselves, why not?"
Her eyes settle on my chest for a brief moment and then she says goodbye and is out the door before I can respond.
I look down to where she was looking and realize that the buttons on my blouse are not quite buttoned up correctly and in my rush I missed a few.
My face goes aflame and decide that I'm definitely leaving early.
By 7:55, I'm as ready as I'm ever going to be. I showered when I got home. Shaved my legs and scrubbed myself down. Then I did my nails and blew dry my hair. The whole time my heart just sits in my throat.
I pull a black dress off the hanger, its simple but form fitting. The last time I wore it was to my cousin's wedding and I got a guy's phone number, so I call it my lucky dress.
I curl my hair and put on makeup, although I have to do my mascara twice since my hands are trembling.
Finally I finish and accessorize and that's it. I'm ready.
But I'm not.
I'm nowhere near ready. The fog has finally lifted and I'm terrified.
Maybe I can call him. No text him. Cancel. This was a bad idea.
But then I realize I don't have his number.
I deleted it in the fall, when he'd sent the last message, before he knew that the "arrangement" was over.
Maybe I can leave. Get in the car and drive to Aunt Hilary's. Take the cowards way out.
But then I see his car pull into my driveway and I realize there's no backing out now.
A few seconds go by as I gather my things and take a deep breath.
I want this. I repeat to myself. I want this to happen.
I don't need to remind myself, but I need to say it.
So I can be brave.
I ring the doorbell and rock back on my heels a bit. My heart is racing and while its not a completely foreign feeling to me, the anticipation, the adrenaline, it's definitely not a feeling I've associated with...dating.
It takes a few moments for Rebecca to answer the door and for a brief moment, I wonder if she will.
It's a leap of faith. Doing this. Trying to make this work.
And I know she's scared. And I am too.
Finally she comes to the door, she seems hesitant, unsure how to greet me. She settles on a small smile and a soft hello.
"Hi." I say and I have to admit I'm a little tongue tied.
She looks amazing. Her hair falls in soft waves around her shoulders and her face is bright, rosy cheeked with dark eyes and pink lips. I can see now that the smile she's giving me is nervous and I can feel the anxiety coming off her.
She's wearing a black dress that hugs her curves and I try not to stare at the expanse of skin the low cut dress affords me.
I hand her the bouquet of flowers that I've brought her. I went back to the florist where I'd ordered the bouquet earlier.
She accepts the orchids and smells the full bundle.
"I know I already got you flowers," I say lamely. "But I wanted to bring you something."
"They're beautiful." She says staring at the pink petals.
"At this rate, I'm going to be solely responsible for the orchid shortage in Pittsburgh," I joke.
She laughs and looks at me, her eyes twinkling and my heart hammers a little harder.
"You look nice." She says looking me over.
I got a haircut after I left the Consol. Then I felt like a teenager trying to pick something from my closet and decided on charcoal grey slacks and a white shirt. I agonized over wearing a tie but decided against it. Never in my life had I been so concerned on what to wear.
"You look beautiful." I tell her honestly. She's breathtaking.
Her cheeks become more rosy and she ducks her head down avoiding my gaze.
"Thanks," she says softly.
And then there is the silence. Not quite awkward, but definitely unsure. As if neither of us know what to do next.
"Should we go?" I say, clearing my throat and she nods.
She gathers her things and I usher her through the doorway.
The walk to the Range Rover is quiet and we're not quite in sync. It's clumsy, us together, this way.
Rebecca goes to the passenger side; I'm determined to be a gentleman, so I quickly come up behind her to open the door for her. But her hand is already on the handle and when my hand closes over hers and I pull the door back too quickly, I hear a thump and an ow.
Shit.
Rebecca's hand is covering her forehead as she stumbles back, her body colliding against mine.
"Sorry!" I say quickly, "Are you okay?"
She turns to face me, her hand still covering her temple. I can see the tears of pain pooled in her eyes, although I can tell she's determined not to let them spill over.
"Yeah," she says weakly.
She's so close that I can smell her hair again. Still orange.
The air is still cool in March and the breeze wafts her scent to my nostrils. Gently I reach out and pull her hand from her head.
She's still and she watches my every move.
I inspect the damage. It's a red mark for now but I'm afraid it's going to bruise. I got her pretty good.
"I'm fine," she says softly.
My fingers lightly brush across the marred skin and I think there's going to be a lump too.
Then without a thought in my head I lean forward and brush my lips softly against the injury. It's just for a moment and the skin beneath my lips is hot from the blood rushing to her temple.
When I pull back, she's looking up at me. Her green eyes fringed with dark mascara are wide and stare at me.
I stare back. And for a minute there is nothing but us and the silence.
Finally she speaks, "I forgot how painful it is to be around you," she gives a smile but the double meaning isn't lost on me.
"I hope I can make it better," my voice is hoarse and I swallow thickly.
And then she smiles and I can see it in her eyes, the walls for now are gone.
"I hope so too."
***Author's note: I'd hoped to get the whole date in one chapter but I realized that isn't going to happen so this is a two parter. As always, I love your feedback so please review! I'm hoping the Pens are back on track, my birthday is Tuesday so I'm hoping for a win as a present. And a Sidney Crosby would be nice too. :P***
