Hip Check

by Deirdre Martin

  Sex with Michelle felt different. He’d slept with lots of women in his life. Apart from playing hockey, what on earth was better than sex? Nothing. But with Michelle it felt like more than two bodies colliding. Not all the sexual encounters he’d had over the years were one-night stands; he’d had a string of serious girlfriends, even a fiancée or two mixed in the bunch. But even during the encounters that had an emotional component to them, he felt that he was outside himself, watching.

  It was a detachment thing. An ego thing. He’d find himself thinking, I’m going to show this woman how great I am in bed. I want to watch her come because it’ll confirm my own prowess to me. He always made sure his partners had a good time, but not because that’s what lovers did for one another. He did it because he wanted them to tell him how great he was afterward. And they always did.

  But he was in his body the entire time he was with Michelle. He was aware of every sensation she triggered in his body. He’d wanted to please her: not for the usual reasons, but because giving her pleasure made him happy. He closed his eyes as the wheels of the plane started rolling faster down the tarmac.

  What the fuck was wrong with him?

  * * *

  The screams were piercing enough to jolt Michelle from a heavy sleep it had taken hours to achieve. It took a few heart pounding, disorientating seconds before she realized they were coming from Nell.

  Michelle flew into Nell’s room, the serene, pearl glow of the nightlight guiding her to Nell’s bed where she sat and gently shook her out of her nightmare. Nell’s eyes jolted open with a gasp; she, too, took a few seconds to figure out her bearings. Then she began to cry.

  “Uncle Esa’s dead!” she wailed.

  “He’s fine, honey. It was just a nightmare.” Michelle gathered Nell up in her arms, rocking her. “It was just a bad dream.”

  “He died in a plane crash like mummy,” Nell sobbed. “Mummy died after she’d been away for three days and Uncle Esa’s been away for three days and he’s on a plane and now . . .”

  Michelle hugged her harder. “It was a nightmare, Nell. Just because your mom died after being away for three days doesn’t mean the same thing is going to happen to your uncle.”

  Michelle continued rocking her. She’d had a bad feeling this might happen. Nell had been anxious when the team had flown south for a few days, but she’d dealt with it. But this was different. For her, a week was a very long time for Esa to be away, and so far away, too.

  Nell looked up at her with a tearstained face, her lower lip quivering. “What if the plane he takes back home crashes?”

  “It won’t, honey.” Michelle picked up Nell’s iPhone from the night table and checked the time: three a.m., which meant it was midnight in California. “Would you like to call him?”

  “He’s probably sleeping.”

  “That’s okay. I’m sure he won’t mind. The last thing in the world he’d ever want is for you to be upset and worried.”

  “But we text.”

  Michelle smiled sadly. “I know.” Esa was so awful and awkward on the phone that texting had proved to be the best way for him and Nell to communicate when they were apart. However, in this case, there was no way it would suffice.

  “I don’t know,” coaxed Michelle, “I have the feeling you might feel a million times better if you heard his voice.”

  “No, I’m all right now,” Nell insisted after a long pause. My ass, Michelle thought. It broke her heart sometimes, the way Nell sometimes denied she was a little girl and instead acted like a little adult who had to be strong. Maybe it was the way she was raised, or a way of protecting herself; a survival tactic she’d learned in the year after her mom’s death. “Nell.” Michelle wiped away the wetness on her cheeks. “It’s all right to need reassurance after a nightmare like that, especially from your uncle.”

  “I don’t want him to think I’m a baby,” Nell said quietly.

  “He would never think that. Ever.” Michelle picked up the phone. “Let’s call him.”

  Nell shook her head no. “I’m okay.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes.”

  Michelle put the phone down. “All right.” She kissed Nell’s forehead. “Can I get you a glass of water?”

  “No, I’m okay. Honest, Michelle.”

  “Well, if you need me, you just wake me. Try to get back to sleep.” She gave Nell a kiss and tucked her back in, glad she was able to console her. She didn’t know what Nell’s year with Leslie had been like, but she was going to call Leslie tomorrow and ask her some questions, big ones that Esa should have asked when Nell came to live with him.

  Michelle slipped back into bed, trying not to think about Esa. Though he was out of the apartment more often than he was in it, she missed him. In the three days between when they’d had sex and he’d left for his road trip, things had felt weird. The sexual tension was worse than before. Or maybe she was just imagining it. For someone who prided herself on being in control, the only time she felt like she wasn’t floundering was when she was taking care of Nell. She turned onto her back, couldn’t get comfortable, and shifted back onto her stomach. She should have pushed harder for Nell to talk to Esa. Too late. She’d tell Esa about Nell’s nightmare when he got home. For now, she’d just keep doing what she did best: loving Nell, and keeping her safe, happy, and secure.

  28

  The last thing Esa expected to see when he walked into his kitchen at six-thirty a.m. following a red-eye flight back from L.A. was Michelle at the table sipping coffee, her head bent low over a crossword puzzle. Obviously she was waiting for him. Despite his exhaustion, he felt desire creep through him; maybe Michelle had changed her mind and had decided they should just go for it.

  “Hey,” he said, determined to keep it casual. “Surprised to find you awake.”

  Michelle folded the newspaper closed. “I have a lot on my mind.”

  She looked pensive. Not a “go for it” expression. Esa fought the urge to stand behind her and rub her shoulders. She probably wouldn’t let him. He’d have to settle for conversation.

  “How was your flight?”

  “Fine.”

  Michelle smiled faintly. “Good.”

  Esa felt an uneasy tug in his gut. “Michelle, is everything all right with Nell?”

  “Yes and no.” She quickly tucked a strand of hair that had come loose from her ponytail behind her ear. “Look, you know I normally wouldn’t hit you with something the minute you walked in the door, but today’s my day off, and I thought you should know before Nell wakes up.”

  “Right,” Esa said with a tight smile. Jackass. He hadn’t checked the calendar while he was out west; his focus had been solely on the ice.

  “The good news is that she had a great week at school,” Michelle said proudly. “She got high grades on her language arts and math tests, and she was named Student of the Week, which made her very happy.”

  Esa sat down opposite her, bracing himself. “Now tell me the bad.”

  “She had a horrible nightmare about you dying in a plane crash. It took me several minutes to calm her down and assure her you were okay. I kept urging her to call you, but she wouldn’t. Every night this week, she’s been doing everything she can to stall going to bed.” Michelle hesitated, then her hand crept to his. “You’re going to have to talk to her.”

  Esa nodded, filling with sadness. Every time he thought he had it beat—thought he and Nell had it beat—something would happen that would set things back. He felt like he kept rolling a rock up a mountain, only to have it roll back down again.

  “I called Leslie,” Michelle continued.

  Esa pulled his hand away. “What? Why?”

  “Because I thought it would be good to know what Nell was like last year after your sister died. She said Nell was a little trooper.”

  Esa looked distressed. “Of course she was. Just like my sister. Danika hated showing weakness.”

  “Sounds like a family trait.”

&
nbsp; “Yes, it is,” Esa admitted without any hesitation. “Finns are very stoic. We pride ourselves on being tough and not complaining. We fought off the Soviets on our own for fifty years. Some people say we’re cold and unemotional.” He decided to issue a challenge. “Tell me: have you found that to be true?”

  “I don’t think right now is the time or place to talk about what happened between us,” Michelle said softly.

  “Of course.” His exhaustion was making a rapid return. “Did Leslie say anything else?”

  “Just that she tried to get Nell to talk about Danika, but she didn’t want to, even though she’s known Leslie all her life. She sounded really nice. Very open, relaxed.”

  “She is.” He rubbed his eyes. “I’m sure Nell would have opened up to Leslie eventually,” he said curtly.

  “Are you?”

  “Yes.”

  “You sound angry.”

  “Not angry. Perplexed. It mystifies me why she couldn’t get a nanny for Nell if she was traveling so much. Wouldn’t that have been better than uprooting her and sending her to me?” Michelle looked shocked, but Esa forged ahead before she could say anything. “I know what you’re thinking: that I’m saying this because I resent having Nell. But it’s not true. I love Nell. And I’m glad she’s here. Really. But I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. And the more I do, the more I realize Leslie wasn’t as good to Nell as she could have been.”

  Michelle regarded him uneasily. “Actually, she was, Esa.”

  Shit. What was she going to hit him with now, before the sun was even up? He waited.

  “Her giving Nell to you had nothing to do with her career. It had to do with her personal life.” Michelle hesitated. “She got engaged to a man who doesn’t like children. He pretty much ignored Nell whenever he was over at Leslie’s. Or he would act like her presence was a huge imposition.”

  Esa felt a thundering behind his eyes. “What?”

  “To her credit, Leslie didn’t want Nell growing up in that kind of atmosphere.”

  “She could have dumped this asshole!”

  “People can’t help who they fall in love with.” Michelle looked down at the table. “That’s what I’ve heard, anyway.”

  Esa felt warmth spreading through him as he momentarily forgot about the Leslie/Nell situation. What Michelle had just said about not being able to control who you fall for should not have been affecting him this way, and it shouldn’t have prompted her to look away, either. Esa thought she was pretty delusional in thinking their going to bed again might happen. It definitely was going to happen. Not right now, not today, but it was.

  He tugged his wandering mind back to the Leslie situation. “Why didn’t she tell me all this?”

  “Because she knew you’d want to go to London and punch the guy’s lights out. You know, the way you do right now?”

  Esa shook his head in anger. “The idea of anyone being mean to Nell . . .”

  “I know.”

  Quiet settled over them like a veil. Michelle, the woman who was always in control, looked distraught. If I went around the table and held her in my arms, he thought, would she push me away? There was only one way to find out.

  He went to her, stroked her cheek, wrapped his arms around her neck from behind. “I missed you,” he confessed.

  Michelle seemed to hold her breath. Then she rose, turning to him.

  “I kind of missed you, too.”

  Esa couldn’t help but smile. “‘Kind of’?”

  Michelle looked troubled. “Esa, this is just too—”

  “Yes, weird, I know. So let’s keep it simple so your head doesn’t explode.” He drew her into his arms. She was stiff at first, but gradually she loosened up, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her body was warm, her scent soft and innocent, and he found himself going very still. He wanted to make that innocence disappear, right here, right now. Take her on the table, or up against the counter, her legs wrapped around his hips while he pumped in and out of that tight, wet pussy.

  Michelle gently pushed him away after a few seconds. “That’s as much simple as I can handle right now.” She looked up at him apologetically. “Okay?”

  “Yes, of course.” He was lying. His longing for her wasn’t flagging one bit, and he thought: I’m used to just taking what I want and getting it, and I want you. But he’d told her he’d keep it simple, and he had to follow through. The only way to do that was to get out of the kitchen as fast as he could, so those plump, inviting lips of hers weren’t right in front of him.

  “I’m really beat,” he said.

  Michelle nodded. “Me, too.”

  “Nell will be up in a few hours?”

  Michelle, who Esa knew truly did think of Nell first, looked accommodating after a thoughtful pause. “I can leave later today so you can get some sleep. Say noon?”

  “Thanks, Michelle,” said Esa as a wave of gratitude washed over him. “I really appreciate it.”

  “It’s important you’re not dragging your ass all day—for Nell’s sake.”

  “Right.”

  “Good night, Esa.”

  “You mean ‘Good morning.’ I’ll talk to Nell first thing tomorrow—I mean, later today. I promise.”

  “Good.”

  Esa watched her leave, her tiny body receding away from him through the kitchen doorway, then through the living room, until finally she was out of sight. He heard her bedroom door open then close quietly. Finally, he was left with the continuing gallop of his own heartbeat. Simple had always been his MO when it came to women. Now, not one but two women were bringing disorder to his carefully controlled life, and he wasn’t kicking against it the way he might have just a few short months ago. Was that good or bad?

  29

  “What are we doing today?”

  Nell’s voice was laced with impatience as she threw herself down onto the couch beside Esa. He understood: she’d been awake since eight, waiting for him to get up, and he’d only just now, at eleven thirty, stumbled out of bed to grab a cup of coffee. Michelle left the moment he woke. He hadn’t slept as well as he’d hoped.

  “I don’t know yet,” he said honestly. “Let me have some breakfast, and we can think about it.”

  Nell frowned. “All right.”

  “Tell me about school this past week. Michelle said you did well on your exams.”

  “Tests. They call them tests here. Yes, I did well. Because they were BOR-ING. They were very easy.”

  Esa looked down into his coffee cup so Nell didn’t catch his painful smile. She sounded like Danika, who always made school sound like a breeze. Esa was never sure whether she really did glide through every subject, or whether she just said it to make him feel like a dolt. The only thing he glided through was the ice.

  “She said you were Student of the Week.”

  “It’s just an honorary title. You don’t get a cash prize or anything.” She looked disappointed.

  “That kinda sucks.”

  “Uncle Esa! You shouldn’t say ‘sucks’! It’s not nice.”

  “You’re right.”

  She kept glancing at him sideways as he sipped his coffee. “I’m going to miss Michelle today.”

  Esa broke into a smile. “I bet.”

  “Are you going to miss Michelle today?” Nell asked, watching his face carefully.

  Esa scratched the whiskers on his chin. “I guess. I mean, it was fun when we went ice skating.”

  “Maybe we can do more things together,” Nell suggested.

  “Maybe,” Esa said noncommittally. Nell looked disappointed again, but there was nothing he could do about it. He wasn’t going to refuel her fantasies about the three of them becoming a family.

  Nell settled back against the couch, seemingly fascinated with her left braid. She undid it, then started rebraiding it again. Esa had been slightly dismayed that when he’d gotten up she hadn’t greeted him with a big hug the way she had the night he’d come home with the walking boot on his foot, especially
knowing that she’d had a meltdown about his plane crashing. He took a long gulp of coffee to fortify himself. He was going to get the plane crash issue out of the way so it wasn’t hanging over them all day.

  “Hey. I need to talk to you about something, Nell.”

  Nell kept braiding her hair. “What?”

  “Could you maybe stop doing that for a minute and look at me? This is kind of important.” Christ, he sounded like a wuss. But he felt as if asking her directly—“Please stop doing that”—would sound like an order, even though it was just a request.

  Nell flipped her half-finished braid over her shoulder and looked at him with mild alarm—exactly the thing he didn’t want. “Am I in some kind of trouble?”

  “No, of course not. Michelle told me you were very anxious about me being away last week,” he began.

  Nell’s eyes darted away.

  “She said you had a really, really bad nightmare.”

  Nell took the end of her right braid and started chewing on it distractedly as if she didn’t really hear him.

  “Nell.” Esa was surprised by how quickly he found himself becoming shaky inside. “Being worried about me when I’m not here is okay, and so is having bad dreams. It makes sense, after what happened with your mum.” He gently removed her braid from her mouth. “Nothing’s going to happen to me. Not on a plane, or anywhere else.”

  “You don’t know that for sure,” Nell insisted, sitting on her hands. “Anything could happen anytime. Anything.”

  That’s not true, Esa wanted to say. But it was. He wasn’t sure how to respond.

  “You’re right: I don’t know for sure,” he eventually admitted. “But I’d say the odds of something happening to me are pretty slim, especially my being in a plane crash. Plane crashes are pretty rare.”

  Esa could imagine what she was thinking: then how come mum died in one? He often thought the same thing. But Nell was just a kid; of course she’d think that. He hated that she was so young and had already figured out that life could be terrifyingly random. Innocent people died in plane crashes.