Now
The new guy is looking at me with a mix of sympathy and complete horror. No sooner than I closed the door to my office, do I break down into violent ugly sobs that wrack my whole body. I'm delusional to think everyone on the other side of the door can't hear me. But at this point, I don't care. I feel like the entire world is crashing around me. I hate making dramatic statements like that, but right now I am just done. Completely done. I was to leave, I want to run away. I want to teleport myself to my childhood bedroom in Delaware and pretend the last five years never happened.
I hate him.
I hate him so much. The tears stream fast and hot down my cheeks as those words run through my mind.
This shame, this secret that I have hidden for so long, is now exposed. Out there for everyone to see. To know. To judge.
And I'm vulnerable. I'm like a deer in the middle of the freeway. The traffic rushing past me, as I clumsily try to make it to the other side.
And I was so close. I was almost there. Until the mack truck came and hit me.
And what remains isn't pretty.
Brandon is next to me, his hands come around my shoulders as he leads me to a chair. I barely know him, but right now he's all I have.
Even after all these years in Pittsburgh, I don't have a lot of friends.
I tried to keep in touch with Dara and James for a little while after graduation but it just faded away. Chelsea, Claude's daughter and I became close friends over the years, but she travels a lot and we don't see each other much. I have Aunt Hilary and her family, but it's not like I can tell them what my life has been like. Tell them that I gave up everything for this something I could never have and now that I can, it isn't what I thought. He isn't what I thought.
I'm willing to forget that night if you are.
Those words echo in my mind and I feel myself break all over again.
I cry until I can't cry anymore. Brandon is crouched down next to me, his hand rubbing circles on my back as he hums calming words and soothing sounds. I don't know what he heard or didn't. His first day spent calming a hysterical woman whose heart has been broken by a boy. Not just a boy, a player on the team she works for. How's that for taking wome in sports organizations back about 50 years?
When the tears subside, I wipe at my dripping nose and look over at Brandon.
He's a nice guy from what I know so far. He came from Columbus, where he was the travel secretary for the Crew. He's very put together and smiles a lot. The team will love him, he's the opposite of me.
"I'm, I'm sorry." I say. My cheeks are burning from the tears and my embarrassment.
Brandon tsks at me. "Don't apologize."
"This is so unprofessional." I wipe at my eyes and know what a mess I look like.
Brandon reaches over a pulls a tissue from a nearby box and hands it me.
I accept it thankfully and try to clean myself up.
"Well, let's keep it unprofessional and go get a drink." Brandon declares.
I look at him, afraid I might have given him the wrong idea. He senses my hesitation immediately.
"Believe me, I have experience in workplace heartbreak, that's mostly the reason I'm here. Tequila works wonders on forgetting stupid boys."
I have a feeling Brandon is not trying to "take advantage of me in my vulnerable state" and I agree.
Thirty minutes later we are holed up in a booth at a nearby bar. It's nearly empty at 2 o'clock on a Monday afternoon. The tequila shots are in front of us and Brandon is giving me a briefing of his life story and bringing me up to speed on what has brought him to Pittsburgh.
"...so he told me that he couldn't come out. Not when he just signed a five year contract. We could keep hiding our relationship and maybe when he retired, we could be together. But I couldn't do that. I'd spent my whole life hiding who I was. So I made some calls and got an interview here in Pittsburgh. And I moved my life here, broken heart and all. And my new rule is no athletes. Maybe what I need is a doctor."
He gives me a devilish smile and downs the rest of his shot.
I can't help but smile back.
"Ahhh, there it is." Brandon says with a grin. "I knew it was in there somewhere."
I laugh and Brandon points to me. "There, that's probably why he loves you, you have a great laugh."
I stop laughing and immediately my eyes begin to well.
"I know it hurts," Brandon says gently. "You don't have to talk about it."
But I do. I do want to talk about it. Because I've never talked about it, not all of it. I've never told anyone about this. And I cant keep it inside anymore. It's poisoning me. It's toxic and it hurts and I feel so alone. And I don't want to feel alone, I need to get it out or else I will never be able to let it go.
And so I start from the beginning and I tell Brandon everything. And while I don't know him and for all I know he could go tell the entire Penguins organization, I don't care. Because I need closure. I need this story to have an ending.
Even if it's the ending I didn't want to read.
About 45 minutes and five shots later I finish. My head is swimming from the tequila and the story.
Brandon has stayed quiet the whole time through. And when I finish, he leans back against the booth and lets out a huge breath.
"Wow." He says. And suddenly the doubt creeps in. What does he think of me? Was I too hasty to trust him? What if he tells everyone, what if he puts it online? My life will be over.
But before I can panic, he looks at me with a serious look.
"You have to talk to him."
I shake my head immediately.
"No way."
"Rebecca, you have to. Something, somewhere must have gotten mixed up, miscommunicated. You need to talk to him, even if it's just to know. There is nothing worse than regret. It's poison. It eats at you and destroys you slowly. If you don't talk to him, one day you're going to wake up and it will be too late. I know you're scared, but you've worked yourself up into such a state about this that your judgement is clouded. There is something there. I know I just met you, but I saw it. The moment he walked into the office. The way he looks at you. He loves you and no matter what has happened in the past, you need to talk. Throughout everything you told me, he always came back to you. That has to mean something. And even if it doesn't, you deserve to know the truth. You can't leave with this unfinished. I know it's scary, but 'fear is stupid and so are regrets,'- Marilyn Monroe." He gives me a knowing look.
I think about what he's said. About regret. About the decisions I chose to make and not make. I'm leaving, no matter what. I need to tell him everything, I can't be left always wondering.
I think about my mom and that night in the casino with my dad. I think about what would have happened if she had just left that night. Hadn't taken that leap of faith. I think about when the cancer came and she chose not to do the chemotherapy at the end, because she wanted to play with us, take us places, celebrate birthdays and die on her own terms, not in a hospital. I think about her looking down on me and what she would say. Life is short, you think you have time, but you don't. I know my mom lived a rich life. I know that she died without a single regret. I've spent my whole life trying to be her, to do all the things she wanted to do but didn't.
But in the end I realize, she didn't do those things because she couldn't, she chose something more important. She fell in love, took a risk and she lived. Even in death, she lived.
And if there is anything about her life that I need to emulate, it's that.
I dont know if it's Brandon or my mom or the liquor, but I pulled out my phone and bring up his number. I tap away at the keys, my heart lodged in my throat as I hit send.
And I wait for his reply.
Then
Rebecca hurried down the quiet corridor, tears clouding her vision. It was 8:30 p.m. She'd been working for thirteen hours; trying to keep up with the demands of the day. The Stanley Cup finals were starting in three days and the requests were pouring in. She'd felt overwhelmed all day long, trying to arrange schedules and call in favors from people who had no idea who she was. They all wanted to talk to Claude. Claude they would arrange a special rate for, Claude they would come up with twenty more tickets for. She was not Claude. She was "honey" or "darling" or in one case "sweetcakes." Everyone one she talked to that held any sort of authority patronized her and refused to work with her. It was beyond frustrating. But she'd refused to back down and she stayed on the line until they finally acquiesced. By a quarter after eight, she'd finally gotten almost all the requests filled. She just had a few left as she dialed the last charter service in the tri state area. As she sat waiting for someone to pick up, her eyes drifted to the Penguins calendar on the wall. Above showed Geno in the middle of a slap shot. She studied the picture, the saturated colors of gold and black, the glistening droplets of sweat that poured down his face and the clench of his teeth from the force of his shot. Her eyes drifted down to the numbers on the calendar and as she listened to ear bleeding sound of lite rock elevator music, her vision zeroed in on the date. Wednesday, May 27th.
No that wasn't right, it was Wednesday, but it wasn't the 27th. Quickly she looked down at the table top calender that was buried under piles of paper. Pushing the piles away she scanned the date and confirmed it.
Cradling the phone in her ear, she dug into her bag to pull out her cell phone. Missed calls from her dad, Aunt Hilary and her grandma in Florida were listed on the screen. It had been so crazy today, she hadn't even looked at her phone.
Her blood ran cold.
Today was the day her mom had died and she'd forgotten.
She visited her mom often, but not as often as she liked. And in the weeks since she'd started at the Penguins for this second go round, she hadn't had a day to go visit.
She knew it was coming up, but the days were running together. She was barely sleeping and her brain was always full of dates and times and codes. She hardly knew if she was coming or going. She wanted to do a good job. She needed to do a good job.
Hanging up the phone, she grabbed her bag and left the office, hitting the light on the way out. She'd finish the requests tomorrow. There was still time.
It was dark outside when she reached her parking space in the Igloo parking lot. She'd managed to get herself together, wiping away the tears. It was about 20 minutes to the cemetery. She'd get there before nine. She knew by heart where the tombstone lay and she'd just have to pay her respects in the dark. It was warm out, a pleasant evening, she was looking forward to the time with her mother, she had a lot to catch up on. Rebecca turned the key in the ignition as she pulled at the seat belt and secured it.
Nothing.
She tried again. Still nothing. It wouldn't even turn over. None of the dashboard lights would come on either.
Her battery was dead.
This wasn't happening Rebecca thought with a panic. She tried again, turning the key and pumping the gas, hoping for a miracle.
Still nothing.
She felt the warm tears run down her face, only they weren't hysterical or panicked. They were hot and heavy and filled with disappointment.
She dug into her bag and pulled out her cell. She started to call her Dad, it rang once then nothing. Rebecca looked at the phone. A black screen looked back at her.
Her phone was dead.
She couldn't plug it in because her car was dead.
And now she was stranded.
Rebecca got out of the car and slammed the door shut in frustration.
"Everything ok?"
The voice scared the stuffing out of her as she jumped at the voice and turned around.
There stood Sid. His hands in stuffed in his pockets, a bag slung over his shoulder and a hat pulled down low over his eyes.
There in all his awkward glory was her guardian angel. Always appearing when she seemed to need someone most.
Rebecca wiped quickly at her eyes, not wanting him to see how upset she was.
"My battery is dead. So is my phone. And…" and despite her best attempts, the tears started to fall again. "I forgot to visit my mom. Today...it's the anniversary of when…" She couldn't finish that sentence and keep it together.
Sid looked at her, then at her car, then back to her again.
"I'll give you a ride," he said decisively.
"Oh, you don't have to...it's late...you guys leave tomorrow...I'll be ok…" Rebecca stumbled over thought after thought.
"It's not a problem. I'm happy to. I can make a call and someone will jump the car and take it to your place. Easy." He gave her a grin and her heart flopped as it often did when he was around.
Rebecca shook her head, "that's too much, I have AAA, if I could just use your phone I can call."
Sid made a face, "No, seriously, it's really not a big deal. C'mon, it's getting dark."
Rebecca just nodded, "Ok. Tha...thank you. You have no idea what this means to me."
Sid looked sheepish and sort of embarrassed. He cocked his head, "I'm just this way."
And so she followed him. And they drove the twenty minutes to the cemetery. And he waited in the car while she made the short walk to the sixth stone in the fourth row. She sat down on the moist grass and said what she needed to say. And even though she was out there for a long time, he waited for her.
When she came back, he smiled. "How are you?"
She smiled, "I'm good. Really good."
To say that Rebecca enjoyed the Stanley Cup Finals would not be completely accurate. She was a nervous wreck for most of it. She'd become invested this year, especially in the weeks since she'd been back. These guys, this team, had become part of her family. The whole organization had bonded together. The front office went on a bus trip to Detroit for the away games and attended every home game. The series started off rocky for the Pens and they returned to the Igloo down two games to none. But then the tide shifted and they tied up the series. Each game was a nail biter. The energy was electric. Rebecca became close with some of the staff, as they bonded together on the trips. Claude was even able to come to the two home games, although everyone joked that the games would be too hard on his heart. He laughed, but still stayed up in the suite with the ambulance staff not too far away.
During that time Rebecca barely saw Sid. In fact, she hadn't talked to him since that night. He'd dropped her off at her new apartment, pausing for a moment before saying goodnight, almost like he wanted to say something else. But he didn't.
The next morning he flew to Detroit and she hadn't seen him since, other than on the ice.
Her work hours continued to be crazy, often going into the night. She'd gotten a few paychecks already and she was well on her way to reaching her goal, that made it worth it.
As excited as the city was, each game put them closer on edge. Everyone had felt the affects of last years loss. The city was skittish, afraid that history would repeat itself, especially when the Penguins were trounced in Game 5, losing 5-0. Detroit would return to Pittsburgh in the same place they were in a year ago. The Red Wings needed to win one more game and the deja vu would become all too real.
The day after the thrashing, Dan Bylsma called off practice. He wanted the team to take a day off from hockey. Get their heads straight. Spend a day with their families or friends. And so that Sunday the Igloo stood silent.
With the exception of a few.
Rebecca was holed up in her office trying to get through the endless stacks, while a few floors below one player hadn't taken the advice of his coach and was instead doing drills with his father.
It was well after five when Rebecca finally decided to call it a day. She headed down the elevator to the ground level. She had a few things to drop off in the trainers' office for the possible and quite hopeful Game 7 trip. It was eerily quiet in the building, especially after how crazy it had been during this playoff run. Tomorrow the circus would continue but today, on this day of rest, it was quiet.
Almost quiet.
The clanging of metal echoed in the stillness. Rebecca, curious, walked around the corner of the locker room and down the hall. She heard noises coming from the weight room and knew there was only one person who would be here, at this time, against the wishes of Dan. Sure enough, when she turned the corner, she was greeted with the sight of Sid in mid squat as he pulled the weight bar up to his chin and stood. He stayed there for a moment, then dropped the bar to the ground. Rebecca couldn't help but stare. For a few seconds she stood gawking at the sight before her and felt a warm rush through her veins.
While she was staring, Sid turned around and saw that he had company.
"Oh, hey," he said easily, not at all fazed by Rebecca standing there.
Coloring, she tore her gaze up and her eyes met his.
"Hey, I um, I heard a noise. I didn't think anyone was down here." She said quickly, feeling the need to explain herself.
Sid looked like he was going to say something, but didn't. Then continued on his reps.
Rebecca stood there, thinking she should leave. Obviously he wasn't interested in talking and what would she say to him? Ask what he was doing here? It wasn't her place. They were down 3-2 in the Stanley Cup playoffs and in a few days, history could repeat itself in the most devastating of ways. It was a heavy position to be in and Sid, as the captain carried most of the weight.
But watching him, so focused on his workout, all alone, with the weight of a city's high expectations on his shoulders, she couldn't leave.
Slowly she walked towards him. He did a few more squats, then dropped the weight bar with a bang and reached over for a towel and his water bottle. Wiping his face and squirting a steady stream of water into his mouth, Rebecca couldn't help but think he looked like he belonged in a commercial for sneakers or Gatorade.
"How are you doing?" She asked, inwardly cringing at how lame she sounded.
"Good, thanks." Sid said quickly, wiping his face again and setting down the water bottle.
"How are you?" he asked. Although she suspected it was more out of politeness than genuine interest.
"Good. I, um, had some work to catch up on, so I spent most of the day here, but I got caught up on a lot of things, so...that was good." God she sounded like an idiot. Her brain screamed at her to leave but she didn't.
He looked at her, a flash of panic crossing his features. Then as if it never happen, his face turned neutral as if he suddenly had no feelings or emotions about what was going on.
It was strange, but Rebecca didn't want to pry.
The conversation was going nowhere and before it could get any more awkward, she decided to end it.
"Well, good night. And good luck tomorrow." She gave a weak smile and turned to leave.
"My dad and I were on the ice earlier, going over some drills. I hope we didn't disturb you." He said suddenly.
Rebecca turned around. It was such an odd thing to say. Why would it disturb her? Her office wasn't far from the ice but she always worked during practices and even through games. She hadn't even heard them. But as she turned and looked at Sid, she realized that it wasn't an apology. Not really. He looked like he needed to talk and this was the only way he knew how.
Standing there he looked so worn down. His beard was thicker than before, but still patchy, his hair long and unruly, and his face, it looked tired and gaunt. The effects of a long and grueling playoff run etched into his features.
Rebecca took a step towards him. "No, you didn't disturb me," she said softly. "How did it go?"
Sid took a seat on the weight bench and rubbed the back of his neck. "Alright. He says my back check wasn't great last game, so we worked on that for a bit. And I thought some time in the weight room might help too."
Rebecca, while a fan, was still a novice at the sport, "Backcheck is what you do when the other team gets the puck, right?"
Sid nodded, "Yeah and forwards have to go on the defensive. Try to stop the attack."
He sounded like he was going to war.
"Do you feel better about it now?" she asked.
Sid gave a small laugh, "I guess, I didn't think it was that bad last night, but my dad saw something that needed to be worked on. So we went over it a few times and I'm making the adjustments."
It was times like these that Rebecca realized how hard it was for him to say what he really needed to say. The pressure from his dad, from everyone was so intense. And he just took it. He didn't argue or complain, he just did what they asked him.
"I just want to win, you know?" He said, looking up at her.
Rebecca nodded. "It's a lot of pressure. Knowing how many people are depending on you," she said gently.
"I want to win for him." Sid said his voice quiet looking at the towel in his hands. "I want him to see that I can do it this time and that everything was worth it. I want to prove that to everyone. I want to win for them."
"And yourself," Rebecca added.
Sid looked at her surprised.
"You deserve to win too. All the work you've done, are doing. The sacrifices. There's nothing wrong with wanting it for yourself."
Sid's gaze stayed on Rebecca's, "Yeah, I want to win too. I want it more than anything else."
Rebecca nodded, "You'll get it, I know you will."
"I hope you're right," he replied, his eyes warm and his demeanor a bit more relaxed.
"I don't know how you do it." Rebecca said automatically and then wished she could take it back.
Sid smiled, "It's nothing more than I can handle. Plus its worth it, it's not work to me. I love it."
"What's it like?"
Rebecca fiddled with the bag in her hand, her eyes catching the mirror that reflected this exchange back at her.
"What's what like?"
Rebecca swallowed, "Loving something so much." Her eyes left the mirror and settled on his.
Keeping his eyes trained on hers, he replied, "It's like flying."
Rebecca didn't say anything. She knew what she wanted to do with her life and she was sure she would be satisfied with it. Happy even. She knew she would find a husband and have a family and live a good life. But that was it. Never in that plan she laid out for herself did she think of loving something so much, so intensely. Never in this careful plan was there room to try and do something amazing. And it made her feel empty.
"It's scary, but amazing. It's putting all your trust in something and letting the highs be enough to soften the lows. It's the best feeling and also the worst. Because you know that it could all go away. So quickly."
Rebecca just nodded, her heart hammering against her chest.
She needed to get out of there.
"I want to show you."
Rebecca shook herself out of her head, "What?"
Sid stood, his eyes shining. "Let me show you. C'mon." He moved past Rebecca and to the exit behind her.
She followed behind him, walking briskly to keep up.
Twenty minutes later they stood in front of the open ice. She wasn't sure what had happened but before she knew it, Sid had thrust a pair of ice skates into her hands, flipped a few switches and here they were.
Rebecca couldn't say she was thrilled with the idea.
"Uh, I don't know about this."
Sid on the other hand, looked genuinely excited.
"You'll be fine, don't worry."
With a shaky foot, Rebecca stepped out onto the ice, highly aware of Sid standing behind her.
She moved slowly and stiffly across the ice and Sid glided on behind her. Her jeans had been cuffed so not to get caught in the blades and the long sleeved Pitt t-shirt she wore did little to keep her warm. Sid on the other hand looked completely at home. Clad in a pair of track pants and jacket, he looked the part of instructor. He gave her pointers as she continued to move at a snail's pace across the rink. Sid just moved gracefully around her and put out a steadying arm as she nearly fell half a dozen times.
"It just takes time," he said grinning.
"Why are you enjoying this so much?" She asked furrowing her brow and looking at him skeptically.
Sid shrugged. "I dont know. It's just fun to see you out here, doing something...out of your comfort zone. Doesn't it feel exhilarating?"
Rebecca made a face. "It feels freezing." She replied with a shiver.
"Oh, take my jacket," he said, pulling at the zipper.
Before she could refuse he'd shrugged out of the windbreaker and put it around her shoulders as if it was a first date or something.
"Tha...thank you." Rebecca said, her chilled fingers working at the zipper.
"Here." Suddenly he was close, so close. His fingers closed over hers and took control of the zipper. Deftly he zipped it up just below her chin.
The jacked dwarfed her, but it was warm, she could feel the residual heat from his body and the faint scent that was distinctly him. She had to force herself not to inhale in front of him as not to embarrass herself.
Sid's gaze locked on hers.
"Do you trust me?" He asked.
"What kind of question is that?"
"Do you trust me?" He repeated, his eyes were playful, as if in this moment nothing else mattered, no pressure, no stress, no overbearing father.
Rebecca nodded. "Yes," she said quieter than she'd intended.
She knew there was a Katy. And that she was nice and fun and beautiful. But at this moment she didn't care.
Sid grinned widely, his dimples still visible through the errant whiskers.
"Ok, whatever you do, don't let go and don't look down."
And then he took her hands, his long fingers closing around hers. He gripped them tightly and Rebecca could feel how warm and calloused they were.
She looked at him, slightly panicked. His gaze was calm. "Don't worry." He said softly. "I want to show you what it's like."
And with that he pushed off and began moving backwards pulling Rebecca with him.
Rebecca was terrified and moved stiffly with him.
"Relax."
Rebecca gave him a look, easier said than done.
He went slowly at first, letting her get use to the speed.
"Don't push off," he instructed, "Just glide, I'll do the rest."
She wasn't sure what to think, but then they started moving faster and faster. He looked over his shoulder every few seconds, but mostly his gaze stayed on hers.
"Ready?" He asked.
And before she could ask what he meant, he took off.
Suddenly they were moving at a speed Rebecca didn't know was possible. The stands whizzed past them as he moved up the rink. He cross left then right, moving gracefully, not once a trip up or a stumble. And she just went with him, the wind blowing against her cheeks.
And she began to smile, then she began to laugh.
He was right.
It felt like flying.
She wasn't sure how long they did this. All she could see as the world whizzed past them were his eyes. Bright and dark, alive and happy.
And that's how she felt. Alive and happy.
They moved quickly and together and to an outsider they surely looked like a bizarre figure skating duo. But he didn't let go and she didn't look down and they flew all around the ice, back and forth, side to side. Rebecca couldn't believe how well he skated backwards. He was laughing too, a smile that lit up his whole face. And his hands held hers, so tightly, so secure.
And she was surrounded by him.
And she knew, right then and there, without a shadow of a doubt.
She loved him.
And it hit her hard and suddenly she couldn't look at him, because he would see. He would know.
So she looked down.
First her skate wobbled, then started to turn, but before she could have a complete wipeout, Sid pulled them to the side and skidded them to a stop.
The force of the stop at the speed at which they were moving, thrusted them into the wall and up against the glass. Sid took the brunt of the impact and Rebecca had no choice but to fall into him. His quick instincts allowed for him to catch her and they both came to a stop unscathed.
She was in his arms, he held onto the abundant fabric of his jacket, keeping her steady and when she looked up at him, his face was so close.
She stared at his lips, full and pink. His cheeks were red, sweat dripping down like tears. She could feel the heaving of his chest against hers and could feel the puff of his breath tickle her nose.
He didn't move at first. And then slowly he was getting closer and closer.
She couldn't look him in the eye, she just stared at his lips coming towards hers.
And she pulled away.
A chicken. A coward. A wimp.
Call her every name in the book, it was all true, but she couldn't do this, no matter how it made her feel.
"I need to get going," she said lamely and quietly.
Sid nodded, but didn't say anything.
He held her hand until they got off the ice, then fell into a pair of seats, and began untying the laces.
"You were right," Rebecca finally said. Sid looked at her, their eyes meeting, "It feels like flying."
He smiled, then looked up at the rafters, where the banners hung of those who'd succeeded before him.
He pointed to the one that read 1991-1992 Stanley Cup Champions. "I want that."
Rebecca looked to where he was pointing, then smiled.
"Then go get it."
***Author's note: Thanks for reading! All will be revealed in the next chapter. I really wanted to get things moving in this chapter, but I didn't want to rush it. Thanks for sticking with this story and I hope you enjoyed it. Speaking of enjoying...I am so happy to see all the guys skating! I nearly lost it when I saw Geno had returned. October will be here before we know it! And the Sid/Nova Scotia article? Dying. Just dying.***
