Hip Check

by Deirdre Martin

  “Just her?”

  Michelle closed her eyes. “Daddy, don’t. Please.”

  “I owe you a big fat apology, Michelle. An apology as big and fat as I used to be.” He turned off the TV.

  “Are you having a stroke? I think you might be having a stroke. Let me call nine one one.” She started to get up to get her cell phone from the kitchen table, but her dad reached out, holding fast to the hem of her sweatshirt.

  “Very funny. I’m not having a stroke. I’m having—excuse me, had—what’s known as an epiphany. Sit back down.”

  Michelle sat back, unable to take her eyes off him. He’d never used the word “epiphany” before. Maybe he really was having a stroke.

  “Stop staring at me like you’re waiting for me to keel over,” her father said in exasperation, flexing his slippered feet. “People who have strokes speak gibberish.”

  “You did! You said you owed me a big fat apology!” Her father was unsmiling.

  “Okay,” she said, slowly reaching for a cookie. “Ellen’s gone. I’m all ears.”

  “I was wrong to tell you I was disappointed in you about the whole Saari situation, passing judgment like that. The more I thought about it, the more I realized: what the hell do I know? You were happy, the kid was happy, the Finn was happy, so I should’ve just butted out.” He leaned over and patted her knee. “The thing is, you’ll never stop being my kid, so I’ll never stop worrying about you, or wanting to protect you. And given Saari’s—Esa’s—track record, you have to admit it wasn’t nuts for me to worry about you getting kicked in the teeth.”

  Michelle remained wary.

  “But you’re a grown woman. If that’s what you want, if he’s who you want, then I support you no matter what. I just want to ask you one thing.”

  Michelle rolled her eyes. “Uh-oh. Here it comes.”

  “As far as I know—and I know daughters don’t confide in their fathers the way they do in their mothers, so I might be wrong—you’ve never been seriously involved with anyone before. Which mystifies me. You’re smart, you’re pretty—”

  “I’ve always been afraid they’d die on me,” Michelle admitted very quietly, her throat clogging with long-suppressed emotion. “I’ve always been afraid of being the one who’s left behind to deal with all the pain.”

  Her father looked sad. “I thought that might be it.”

  Michelle wished the TV was on, so she had somewhere to look. “I know it’s silly.”

  Her father put his arm around her shoulder. “It’s not silly.”

  “I feel like it is.”

  “That’s because you’re hard on yourself.” He looked down at his lap for a long time. “I did the best I could, kiddo. I didn’t know anything about little girls. I didn’t know much about being real hands-on with you kids, period. Some days it was hard for me to just get out of bed.”

  “I know you did your best, Dad. Honest.”

  “I know it was especially hard on you. Don’t think I don’t know.” Tears began spilling from Michelle’s eyes as her dad squeezed her shoulder. “I might not know much, but I do know kids need their mothers—or someone who’s like a mother to them. Which is what you are to Nell. You know that, right?”

  Michelle felt overwhelmed. “I try. She’s been through so much.”

  “She loves you.”

  “And I love her. I just hope the fact that things have changed between me and Esa isn’t confusing her too badly. I’m worried it is.”

  “So get back with him.”

  Michelle burst out laughing. “Now you are talking gibberish! We’re done.” She picked a renegade raisin off the edge of her cookie. “It was stupid, anyway. It never could have worked.” She was a teacher; she knew all about concentration. That was what she’d been concentrating on making herself believe ever since Esa said they’d never be romantic again.

  “I’m sorry that my stupidity soured this for you, Michelle. If I could take back all my dumbass words, I would.”

  “Maybe they were meant to be said.”

  “Don’t give me that mystical bullcrap,” her father smirked.

  “Got it.”

  “I’ve got three more things I need to say before I ditch you for Ellen.”

  “What?”

  “I know you love that kid, so if you can handle it, get back to where you belong: living with Nell and Sa—Esa full-time.” His eyes shifted away. “I’ve been selfish, making you go back and forth for so long. It’s just that it’s been so nice having you around.”

  “You sure you’ll be okay?” Michelle wondered how it was possible for joy and guilt to well up at the same time.

  “Yeah, yeah, of course. Hold on a minute.” He took a bite of his cookie. “Second thing: I don’t see why you can’t get back with Esa. He’s got to know this whole stupid mess is my fault, right? If you want, I can go apologize to him in person.” Her father directed his half-eaten cookie in her direction. “It’s important you listen to me, Michelle. It’s scary that you never know if the person you love is going to be snatched away from you, that it can happen even when you’re young. But the risk is worth it. Trust me.”

  “Dad.” Michelle’s voice was shaky. “This is so weird. It doesn’t sound like you. To be honest, it’s freaking me out a little bit.”

  “It’s freaking me out a little bit, too.” Michelle was amused as he took another big bite of his cookie. Ed Beck, Queens original in-between-bites philosopher. “Sometimes a health scare helps you put things in perspective.” He shook his head, chuckling. “You would think I’d know all this stuff already after being a firefighter; you see and risk death all the time. But you can’t afford to think about it. And even after your mom died, I didn’t really think about it that much, I was so wrapped up in my pain. But coming so close myself”—he blew out a deep breath—“you realize life is really goddamn short, kiddo. You have to go for it and not give a damn what anyone else thinks or says. Most important of all, you have to get out of your own way. Don’t analyze things to death. Let yourself be happy.”

  Her father sucked in his bottom lip, always a sign he was trying not to get choked up. “Now, one more thing before I make you go home: your mom’s up there in heaven watching everything, and she’s very proud of you. She always has been. I just had to tell you that.”

  “Thank you, Dad.”

  “No need to thank me.” He waved his hand vaguely toward the kitchen. “Now get your purse and get out of here. I need some peace.”

  Michelle was grinning as she grabbed her stuff, amused by how fast that TV went on and how quickly her dad’s eyes were already one with the screen.

  “One more thing,” he said.

  Michelle clucked her tongue. “Jesus, Dad! This is like some bad deathbed skit!”

  “Tell Esa thank you.”

  “What?”

  “Just tell him that, all right?”

  “All right,” said Michelle. She knew it had to do with her; she just hated that it was so cryptic. She sucked at cryptic.

  She kissed her dad’s cheek. “I’ll call tomorrow.”

  “No, you don’t have to call tomorrow.” Her dad’s voice was distracted; Ellen was sucking him into the vortex. “I’ll call you in a few days, okay?”

  “Okay. Whatever you say. Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  Michelle walked out the door, leaving her father and Ellen behind.

  * * *

  “Look! My hair’s just like yours now!”

  Nell came spilling into the apartment, a bundle of uncontained energy. Michelle wasn’t surprised: the Blades had taken a red-eye flight back to New York from L.A., and Nell had probably slept the whole way. Esa was the one who looked worse for wear, with dark circles drawn under his eyes, his skin a little paler than usual. He also had a five o’clock shadow which, despite his weariness, made him look sexy. Michelle kicked the thought out of her mind.

  “I made your favorite scones,” she called to Nell, who was in her room un
packing.

  “Utmarkt!” Nell called back.

  “And I’m back for good!”

  “Super utmarkt!”

  Michelle looked at Esa, impressed. “Teaching her more Finnish?”

  “No. ‘Utmarkt’ is Swedish for ‘excellent.’ Torkleson taught her. I wanted to teach her how to say, ‘Don’t ever come near my head again with a pair of shearing scissors, you Swedish mong,’ but I don’t think there’s a Finnish equivalent for ‘mong.’”

  Michelle pictured the Swede’s giant hand taking a pair of scissors to Nell’s head, her beautiful blond hair falling to the floor in uneven sheets. “He didn’t.”

  “Oh yes, he did,” replied Esa sourly, shoving his battered safari jacket into the closet. “I almost murdered him. Seriously, what kind of an idiot plays barber with a little girl?”

  Michelle winced. “You know how persuasive Nell can be.”

  “She’s eight!” Esa practically yelled.

  It was pure impulse: Michelle put a hand on his forearm to calm him. “Relax. No matter what she looked like, she looks adorable now. Little girls play hair salon all the time. It’s just usually not a vicious Swedish defenseman who’s the other barber.” Esa glanced down at where his hand rested on her forearm and gently removed it. Mortified, Michelle took a small step back.

  “She wants pierced ears,” Esa informed her.

  “That’s for you to decide,” Michelle said coolly.

  Esa sighed. “But it’s a girl thing,” he murmured, closing his eyes as he slowly ran his forefingers along his eyebrows. He stifled a yawn.

  “No, it’s a guardian thing.” She was dying to ask him if he’d broken through the wall between him and Nell, but he seemed to be in a very bad mood.

  “I could fall on my face right now,” he announced.

  “Go take a nap.”

  “I’m physically tired, but I still need to wind down mentally.” He paused. “Do you think I might have a couple of those scones?”

  “What do you think?”

  Esa’s mouth curled into a tired smile. “Thank you.”

  “Apparently, I’m supposed to thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “You tell me. My dad just said to thank you.”

  Esa opened his eyes.

  “What did he mean?” she asked.

  Esa shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said, covering his mouth to yawn.

  Watching his back as he retreated into the kitchen, Michelle knew he was lying.

  * * *

  The entire day felt out of whack. After very early morning scones, Esa crawled off to take a short nap. Nell couldn’t have cared less about sleep. She’d already recounted most of the trip to Michelle over the phone, but she retold it, this time in greater detail. How she went to Magic Mountain in L.A. with Uncle Esa, Uncle Eric, and Uncle Jason. How Uncle Eric “spewed” after the ride. How she watched the games with Lou and the two of them ate things like fish tacos and Navajo fry bread. How she watched The Wild and the Free “with the guys,” and they all were upset that Aunt Monica had been possessed by a demon. There was just one thing that made her sad, she told Michelle: “You weren’t there.”

  “Well, I’m here now,” she told Nell as they lay side by side on Michelle’s bed with sunglasses on, pretending they were at the beach tanning themselves.

  “For good? Honest?”

  “Do I lie?”

  Nell chewed on the inside of her mouth for a long time. “No.”

  Michelle pushed herself up on her elbows, lowering her sunglasses just enough for Nell to see her eyes. “Hey! That should have been a no brainer, m’lady!”

  “Sorry,” Nell muttered.

  “Apology accepted.”

  Michelle lay back down, wishing spring would get on with it already. She wanted to take Nell to the beach, and enjoy the magnificent terrace, even use the grill out there that Esa told her he’d never touched. She started envisioning all the things she and Nell could do together when Nell slipped her hand in Michelle’s.

  “I’m sad.”

  Michelle took off her sunglasses, rolling onto her side so she was facing Nell. “About what, sweetie?” she asked, even though she was pretty sure of the answer.

  “I wish you and Uncle Esa loved each other again.”

  Michelle drew a patient breath, even though her heart had stopped beating. “Honey, we already had this talk. I told you: people can go out and not love each other.”

  “But you’re not going out anymore,” Nell accused.

  “No, we’re not,” Michelle said evenly.

  “Uncle Esa said it was because of your dad, and his hockey.”

  Michelle plucked Nell’s sunglasses off her nose, placing them atop the tower of paperbacks on her night table. “Yes. And you already knew that, too.”

  “But your dad is better now.”

  “I know. But it’s very complicated.”

  Nell frowned. “Grown-ups always say that when they don’t want to give you the real answer.”

  “That is the real answer, Nell. Things are complicated. You’re a little girl, and sometimes, no matter how mature you are, some things just aren’t your business,” Michelle replied firmly.

  Nell’s mouth fell open. “That was mean!”

  Michelle remained firm but unapologetic. “Sometimes the truth is mean, honey.”

  “You sound like my mum! And you’re not!”

  “I realize that,” Michelle said very quietly. “But maybe you need to stop and think a minute about the fact that two grown-ups have said the same thing to you. We’ve got to have said it for a good reason, right?”

  Nell just folded her arms across her chest and stared at the ceiling.

  “Can I ask one thing?” she asked Michelle sulkily.

  “You can try. Go ahead.”

  “I asked Uncle Esa if you were going to love each other again and he said, ‘I don’t know,’ so that means you might again, right?”

  Michelle was stunned. “I don’t know.” She wished Nell were Hannah, or Marcus, so she could shake one of their arms and say, “What the hell—?”

  “But until you do, it’s going to be weirdness all-round and I hate it,” Nell continued.

  “It won’t be weird forever. I promise.”

  But how she planned to make sure that happened remained a mystery.

  * * *

  This was a better idea, Esa thought to himself as he sat down on a bench near the Bow Bridge in Central Park, waiting for Michelle to arrive. When he’d suggested they meet for coffee at Starbucks after she’d dropped Nell off at school, she’d gestured at the sun outside the kitchen windows as it winked brightly through the lengthening leaves of the trees. “Why sit inside when we can sit outside?” He decided she was right. He probably spent too much time in Starbucks. A Finnish friend told him that one had finally opened at home, at the Helsinki Airport. Finland was getting to be like the rest of the world, fast.

  Michelle had gone to a nearby diner to pick up the coffees. She’d looked taken aback by his initial suggestion they meet outside the apartment, but Esa wanted a change of venue.

  He spread his arms out along the back of the bench, the phrase “king of all he surveys” popping into his mind. He had no idea where the quote came from, but that was how he’d felt most of his charmed life, until Adam Perry had put it into perspective for him two years ago, at least as far as things went on the ice. Now he lived in Reality Land off the ice as well, thanks to Nell and Michelle, which was okay. He just wished someone had given him a fucking map to follow.

  * * *

  “Large black for you, small skim milk for me, chocolate chip muffin to split if you want some.”

  Michelle handed Esa his coffee, sitting down on the bench beside him. His inviting her for coffee surprised her, sparking something in her a little unnerving. She wasn’t sure what to expect, especially given his recent coolness. Perhaps he’d changed his mind, and the weirdness she told Nell would soon evaporate would disappea
r quicker than she expected. She smiled to herself.

  She offered him a piece of muffin. Esa shook his head. “You shouldn’t eat things like that.”

  Michelle laughed at him. “You hypocrite! You’ll eat the scones and cookies Nell and I bake, but you won’t have a piece of this.” She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  Esa removed his arms from where they were stretched out along the back of the bench, telegraphing that the conversation was going to be slightly less casual. Michelle understood immediately. The conversation was going to focus on Nell. He started to talk but she interrupted him before he could get started.

  “In a minute,” said Michelle, surprising herself. “First I want to know why my dad said to thank you.”

  Esa waved a hand in the air dismissively. “It’s not important.”

  “Clearly it is, considering my father’s opinion of you now is very different from the one he had when he left the apartment on Christmas night. Tell me.”

  Esa sighed heavily. “There was no reason for him to say anything to you.”

  “But he did. So tell me,” Michelle demanded.

  “Those three extra days in the hospital that his crappy insurance plan didn’t cover? I picked up the tab.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “I told you very clearly, ‘No help’!”

  “And I told you I would be there for you in any way I could.” Esa’s gaze direct, almost challenging. “You’re angry with me, but I don’t care. You know how I felt about it: that you were cutting off your nose to spite your face. It was ridiculous for you and your asshole brother to have to deal with that kind of added stress when I have so much money. So I took care of it.”

  Michelle heard a rhythmic whooshing sound in her ears. It took her a few moments to catch on that it was her heartbeat, growing more and more insistent, not with anger, but with amazement. “How did my dad find out it was you?”

  “I don’t know. I just wish he hadn’t said anything to you.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  Esa took a sip of coffee. “You don’t have to say anything.”

  “You’re wrong. I do.” Her eyes began welling up. “Thank you.”

  Esa looked uncomfortable. “You’re welcome.”