Scoring the Player

by Samantha Lind

  “Go. Be with her, and don’t worry about us. Kinley needs you more than we do right now.”

  “Thanks, man. I’ll keep you posted as to when I’ll be back.” I step away from him and head into the locker room, so I can grab my stuff and haul ass home.

  As I reach my truck, my email dings on my phone. Laura, God love her, was able to get me on a flight that leaves in three hours. Just enough time to get home, grab what I need, and get my ass to the airport.

  On my way to the airport in an Uber, I send my sister a text message, telling her I need to talk and to call me if she’s available within the next hour and a half. My text hardly is sent when my phone rings.

  “Hey. I didn’t want to wake Isaiah by calling.”

  “Nice try, what’s wrong?”

  “Why do you immediately think something’s wrong, Jenn?”

  “Because you never text me that you need to talk to me ASAP about something important. And you’re my brother. I like to think that I know you better than you know yourself sometimes.”

  “Okay, you’re right. Something is wrong. Are you sitting down?”

  “That’s a bit cryptic. What’s going on?”

  “Kinley and I were pregnant. She miscarried today, and I’m on my way to be with her for a few days.”

  “Oh! Brian! I’m so sorry. How is she doing?”

  “Not good. I’ve only talked to her once, and that was about an hour or so ago. She didn’t tell me much; just what happened. It kind of felt like she was pushing me away. I don’t know what to do, Jenn. I’m so fucking scared. Please tell me what to do.”

  “Well, for starters, you’re doing the best thing you can, and that is going to her. She might be pushing you away, but she needs you right now more than either of you know. When Drew and I miscarried, I felt so alone and like my body failed me. The guilt I felt, especially when it pertained to Drew, was debilitating. I felt, at times, like he would be better off without me, and I tried pushing him away. So hearing that you feel like that’s what Kinley is doing, is normal, but don’t let her. Be there for her. She needs all the support she can get right now. The first few days are the hardest. Her body is going to go through so many swings of emotions as her hormones change.”

  I breathe a heavy sigh, my mind spinning a hundred miles an hour.

  “Brian, just take a deep breath. You can’t do anything until you get there. And once you’re there, just hold her. Let her cry all over you, if that’s what she needs. If she asks for some space, be willing to give her some. I know that isn’t what you want to hear, but there will be moments where the emotion is just so overwhelming that she may just want to be alone, to cry or sleep.”

  “Thanks, Jenn. I don’t know what I’d do without your voice of reason. She was adamant about not telling anyone until we’d made it to the second trimester, and we were so close. It just isn’t fucking fair. I was with her for her first doctor’s appointment. I saw the heartbeat with my own eyes, heard it beating away over the machine. It was the best day of my life and now…now, all I have is a black and white picture to remember that day by.” I start to break down, the emotion of the last few hours catching up with me.

  “I’m so sorry, Brian. Please, call me whenever you need to. I will keep my cell next to me. I love you, and please give my love and condolences to Kinley when you make it to her.”

  I hang up with my sister as the Uber arrives at the airport. I grab my bag and make my way inside, and head straight for security.

  I stop in one of the sports bars to grab a bite to eat and a drink. I don’t even taste the burger I somehow choke down, and the straight whiskey burns as it goes down, but does nothing to help settle my nerves.

  Not needing to get drunk in the airport, I head for my gate, finding a seat the furthest away, allowing me a little privacy. I know I need to call my mom and let her know what’s going on as well. I take a deep breath and dial her number.

  My conversation with my mom goes a lot like the one with my sister. My mom was upset, as I expected, and I hung up, promising to keep her informed as to how Kinley was doing and if there was anything she could do for us. As meddling as my mom and sister can be sometimes, they make up for it with how supportive they are.

  I decide to try calling Kinley, since my phone will have to be off while I’m flying, and I had promised her I would keep it on me, so she could call whenever she needed. I don’t want to miss her if she needs me.

  I’m a little shocked she answers on the first ring.

  “Hey, how are you doing?” I ask cautiously.

  “Hi, Brian, it’s Jessica. Kinley is sleeping still.”

  “How’s she doing? She didn’t tell me much earlier.”

  “As good as we can expect her to be doing. They gave her some strong pain meds to help with the cramping that she was experiencing, as they said it could last for hours or even the next couple of days. They had given her a dose in the ER, and I gave her another once I got back from the pharmacy. I don’t think she’ll be up again until the morning.”

  “I just wanted to call and let her know that my phone will be off for the next few hours, and I didn’t want her to worry. I’m about to board a flight; I’m on my way up there. I just need to be with her.”

  “I think that’s a great idea. Do you need someone to pick you up at the airport?”

  “I’ll just grab an Uber. I would rather you stay with her.”

  “If you’re sure. I can send Tyler to get you.”

  “That’s okay. I get in pretty early in the morning. I’ll just grab a ride and head straight for her place. Do you plan on staying the night?”

  “Yes, I don’t plan on leaving her alone for the next few days. She’s trying to show she’s strong to everyone, and not accept help, but she’s a mess and needs our support.”

  “Well, like I said, I will be there in the morning, and I don’t plan on letting her push me away. When she ended our call earlier, it felt like she was closing the door on me.”

  “That sounds like something she would do. Thank you for fighting for her. She needs a good man like you in her life.”

  I hear them call my flight to board, so I quickly end my call with Kinley’s mom. Laura worked a miracle by not only getting me out on a flight within hours of asking her to, but she also was able to get me a first-class seat, so I’m not cramped in a coach seat.

  I make it to Anchorage, tired as hell. I didn’t get much sleep on my flights, my mind never stopping its frantic thoughts pinging all around. On my way out of the airport, I grab a large coffee and head for the Uber pick-up spot. Thankfully, I don’t have to wait long and fifteen minutes later, we’re pulling up in front of Kinley’s apartment building.

  I had texted Jessica when I arrived, letting her know I’d be there as soon as possible, and she said she’d unlock the door for me.

  I knock lightly so they are not alarmed, and am a little surprised when I see Kinley standing there when I open the door. The look of despair on her face kills me. I drop my bag and engulf her in my arms.

  “I’m here, baby.”

  “You came,” she cries into my neck.

  “Of course I came. I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

  “But the playoffs… Don’t you have a game tonight?”

  “The team does have a game tonight, but Coach is listing me as a healthy scratch for now. I had more important places to be,” I say, placing a chaste kiss just under her ear. “Can I get you anything, or do anything for you?”

  “I was just up getting something to drink and making some toast. I need something in my stomach when I take my medicine, or else it can cause me to puke.”

  “Is your mom asleep?”

  “No, she jumped in the shower really quick.”

  “Well, go sit down, and I will bring you your toast and meds,” I tell her, stepping back enough to bring my lips to her forehead.

  She listens, curling up on the couch with a blanket, as I step into the kitchen.

  After
handing her the toast, water, and pain meds, I sit next to her on the couch, gathering her in my arms. She stiffens at first, but after a few moments, relaxes into my side.

  After Jessica gets out of the shower, and Kinley has finished her breakfast, I excuse myself to take a quick shower to get the grime of traveling off of me. When I come out, Kinley has moved back to her bed, curled up with her iPad, scrolling through her social media pages. I grab a t-shirt and some basketball shorts to put on, and lie down on the bed, facing her. The gap of space between us feels like a crater, when really, it’s mere inches. I can feel her slowly slipping from my grasp, and I have no idea how to stop it from happening. I just have to keep reminding myself that I need to let her have her space if that’s what she asks for, and that she needs time to process the traumatic event her body is going through.

  I lie there, watching her, taking in the small changes her body had started to make. She’s wearing baggy sweats and one of my shirts she’s kept, so I can’t see everything, but even with bags under her eyes, and puffy tear-stained cheeks, she’s still the most beautiful woman. I just want to take all her pain away, and bring back my bubbly, fun-loving woman.

  “Kin,” I say, just above a whisper. “Please, talk to me.” I’m practically begging, but I don’t care.

  She looks at me over the top of her iPad, new tears brimming along her lashes. I reach out and grab her iPad and set it on the nightstand. I close the distance between us and pull her into my arms. The tears overtake her, and the sobs escape from her lips. They’re so powerful, her body is convulsing in my arms. I do the only thing I can think of, and let her work through the emotions that are wracking her body. I stroke my hand through her hair, knowing how much she loves it when I do this, and I can only hope that it helps soothe her in a situation like this as well. It takes awhile for her to calm back down, and my shirt is soaked with her tears. She could soak every last shirt I own, if it would make her feel better and keep her in my arms. I continue to run my fingers through her hair, until the tears have stopped, and her breathing is back to normal.

  Kinley pulls back enough until she can look up at me, and I can see a few tears still lingering around her lashes. I reach up and wipe them away, then lean in and place a soft kiss against her lips, my thumb caressing her cheek.

  Realizing that she isn’t ready to open up and talk to me yet, I look into her eyes, where I see fear, pain, and heartbreak.

  Keeping my palm on her cheek, and my eyes on hers, I whisper, “I love you, Kinley. Nothing is going to change that. I know you’re hurting, mind, body, and soul, and I wish there was a way I could take that pain away from you, but I can’t. But I can be here for you to lean on for anything, and I mean, anything. If you’re mad and need something to punch, punch me. You need something or someone to yell at, I’m your man. You need someone to just hold you and remind you how important you are, I will be the first one volunteering. Do you understand?”

  She just nods her head, very slightly, in response. She stays in my arms for a few more moments before pushing out of my arms, and out of the bed. I stand to follow her, when she turns, snapping at me, “I’m just going to the bathroom. I don’t need a chaperone.”

  “I’ll just head out to the living room. Call if you need anything, sweetheart,” I reply back.

  I will take any communication I can get from her, snapping or not. At least she’s talking to me.

  The rest of the day goes just about as well as the morning did. I finally convince Jessica to head home, with a promise that I would keep her updated with Kinley’s status.

  Most of the day, Kinley stayed in her bed, asking to be left alone. As much as that killed me, I gave her the space and took up residence on the couch. I ordered in some takeout, and settled in to watch my guys take on the Blues in the first game of the playoffs. During the pregame conversations, the announcers mention the fact that I was a healthy scratch and are speculating as to why the coaching staff would do so. They’re wondering if I really did sustain an injury that we were just not disclosing yet.

  My food arrives just as the first period is getting ready to start. A short time later, I hear Kinley’s door open, and she steps out into the living room. She’d obviously showered, as she has wet hair and clean clothes on.

  “Are you hungry? I ordered extras, if you would like any,” I tell her, pointing to all the Chinese takeout containers.

  “A little,” she says, still not moving from where she stands.

  “Sit, and I’ll grab you a plate. Would you like anything to drink?”

  “Just some water.”

  I come back a few minutes later, with a plate, silverware, and a bottle of water for her.

  “Thank you,” she says lightly, from her place on the couch.

  “You’re welcome, sweetheart,” I reply, kissing the top of her head. “Can I get you anything else? A blanket?”

  “I’m good for now. Just hand me that container, please.”

  I hand her each container she asks for, so she can fill her plate. I’m taking her desire to eat something more than toast a good sign.

  We sit in silence as we eat and watch the game. The guys slipped early, letting the Blues get in a goal. They have been fighting to get back ever since, with no success yet. Just goes to show that playoff hockey is a beast of its own. It doesn’t matter that we were the number one team in our division headed into the playoffs, and playing the bottom team. They’re out to prove something, and we must be just as dedicated to winning as they are.

  Around the start of the second period, Kinley excuses herself back to her bedroom. I let her have the space while I finish watching the game. We somehow squeak out the win, putting us up one game to nothing. The best way to start out the first round of the playoffs. I wish I was with my team, helping them to a win and celebrating in the locker room right now, but being here is more important than any of that.

  Chapter Twenty

  Kinley

  I know I’m being a bitch to everyone, especially Brian, but I don’t know how else to cope. I just want everyone to go away and leave me to grieve on my own. I don’t need them meddling and trying to do shit for me. I just need to be left alone.

  When I woke up yesterday, I just knew something was wrong. It didn’t take me long to see the blood, and I knew instantly what was happening. I called my mom first, knowing I needed to go to the hospital. I cringed at the thought of going to the ER, and being seen by one of the doctors I work with, but it was my only option.

  When I told my mom what was going on, she, of course, was sympathetic and heartbroken for me. I still hadn’t told her about the baby, so it was a double shock. She kept pressuring me to call Brian, saying he needed to know. I just didn’t know how to tell him. I figured he’d be pissed at me; my body failing and all that. I know, deep down, there isn’t anything you can do to avoid a miscarriage, but it still fucking hurts and the guilt is there.

  I’ve done my best to keep everyone locked out. I was weak for a little while after Brian showed up on my doorstep, and I allowed him to hold me while the emotions overtook my body. Crying with him holding me like that made me feel so loved and cherished. But I don’t deserve that from him. Not after what my body has done, how I’ve crushed him with the loss of our child. I have to push him away. There is no way he will ever forgive me for losing our baby, and that kind of resentment will just create a rift between us, eventually tearing us apart. I would rather push him away now, while I’m already miserable, rather than later down the road.

  With my mind made up, I just have to figure out how to get him to leave. I know he can be stubborn, and trying to convince him to go back and join his team isn’t going to be easy. I’ll sleep on my decision, and come up with a plan tomorrow, to get him to leave once and for all.

  I wake up feeling so protected. Strong arms are around me, a warm body against my back, and I know it’s him. The calm that I wake feeling isn’t welcomed, though. I don’t deserve to feel this way. I deserve to fee
l the pain and heartache that comes with losing a baby. But, I give in and remain in Brian’s arms for a while longer, second-guessing myself and what I have planned to do today. As I lie there in the comfort and security of his touch, my mind is conflicted, going back and forth between pushing him out of my life and taking what he’s offering, using him as my sounding board, my protector, my everything.

  The tears come again, almost hitting me like a semi-trailer truck slamming a brick wall. I can’t control them, nor the emotion that floods my body, hit so hard by the wave of grief that I start convulsing. I don’t realize Brian has woken up and is talking me through my panic attack, running his fingers through my hair and rubbing my back, all in an attempt to help calm me down. As soon as I notice what he’s doing, I practically jump from his embrace and run for the bathroom, locking the door behind me.

  You don’t deserve him, the devil on my shoulder keeps whispering in my ear.

  I take a look at myself in the mirror, not even recognizing the reflection staring back at me. My face is so swollen from the amount of crying I’ve done the past couple of days. My hair is a huge rat’s nest, my clothes are baggy and covered with tears and snot. I’m an absolute basket case.

  I strip my clothes and start the shower, turning the water as hot as I can possibly stand it. The scalding water loosens my sore muscles and relaxes my body. Before the water turns cold, I at least get my hair washed, but otherwise, I just stand in the water, crying, feeling so lost.

  Leaving the bathroom, I find a clean pair of sweats and a sweatshirt to put on. I can hear Brian moving about my kitchen, and from the smells of things, he’s cooking breakfast. After pulling my hair up into a knot on the top of my head, I finally exit the bedroom. I stop at the end of the hall, and he looks up at me with a sad smile on his face.

  “Feel better, sweetheart?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you hungry? I made enough for the both of us.”