by Lila Moore
We stepped out onto the ice. I looked around and imagined what it must be like in the middle of a game. The roar of the crowd must be deafening.
“What’s it like?” I asked. “When you’re playing and everyone’s cheering you on?”
“To be honest, I never notice. I’m too focused on the game. I don’t hear the crowd or see them. It just fades into the background when I’m in the zone.”
“I could never do what you do. I’d be too conscious of all those eyes on me. Not to mention the pressure. I’d be terrified I’d blow it and everyone would hate me.”
“You can’t think about those things. If you screw up, all you can do is own your mistakes. Take responsibility, fix what you can and make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
It was clear we weren’t just talking about hockey anymore.
“You’re right. We’re not kids anymore. I can’t bury my head in the sand and hope my problems go away. I should have come to you and told you everything.”
“I know how scared and overwhelmed you were,” he said.
I wanted to laugh, but I swallowed back the urge. Sledge had no idea how hard the past year had been for me.
“We have to put the past behind us and move on.”
“What if the past’s not through with us?” I asked.
Sledge gave me a troubled look. “We’re in control of our own future. No one’s going to take the baby away from us, not your father, or your aunt-no one.”
Sledge knelt down and held out the baby’s hands, giving him support while he attempted to walk across the ice. He slipped and slid, but Sledge was there to keep him from falling.
Jake leaned against his daddy and looked up at the empty seats. His eyes went wide as he pointed up and made a sound. Who knew what he thought about all this, but his expression made us laugh. We took turns walking the baby across the ice before finally heading out.
As we left the arena, I noticed several girls arguing with the security guy. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but when their eyes locked on Sledge they turned big and round. One of them pulled out her cell phone and started taking pictures of Sledge with the baby.
“The secret’s out now,” I murmured.
Sledge ignored the girls and quickly got the baby into his car seat. We took off with them chasing after us.
“Sledge!” they shouted as we drove away.
I pulled out my cell phone and checked the message boards. There was a flurry of comments about the events of the last few days.
“What are you reading?” Sledge asked.
It suddenly occurred to me how embarrassing it was to admit I followed Sledge’s life online. Though at this point, I had nothing to lose. I didn’t see how Sledge could think any of less of me. He already saw me as a crazy, pill-popping liar.
“There’s this website I follow… it’s all about hockey. There’s a message board and the posters are really into hockey gossip. They write about you…” I admitted sheepishly.
“What do they say?”
“It’s mostly gossip about what’s going on behind the scenes with the team, or about you and Svetlana.”
He gave me a look that said he was uncomfortable with this. Who could blame him? A group of strangers were talking about his love life and wildly speculating on what went on behind closed doors.
“They know about me,” I said.
“What do you mean?”
“They know my name and that we’ve seen together. They also know I turned myself in when Svetlana falsely accused you of attacking her.”
“Have they been harassing you? I can get my lawyers to shut down the site.”
“No, they’re just nosey.”
The idea of having the site shut down made me feel guilty. The posters on the site were harmless. I suspected most of them were like me: obsessed with hockey and looking for an escape from the trouble in their lives. The site had been a needed distraction for me during dark times. I didn’t want to take it away from others who might be in a similar position as me.
“They’re harmless,” I said. “They’re just a bit too interested in the lives of the players.”
“You were using the site to check up on me?” It wasn’t a question.
“I was curious about how you were getting on. I wanted you to be happy.”
“And did you think I was happy?”
The baby fussed in his car seat.
“I don’t know. It looked like you got everything you ever wanted. You were playing professional hockey, making a lot of money, you had girls lining up around the block.”
“That’s all that you think I wanted? Girls and money?”
“Well, most guys-”
“I don’t care about most guys. I only ever wanted you, Bobbi.” He ran his hand through his hair then gripped the wheel, as if it pained him to admit this. “I’ve been miserable without you.”
It was wrong to take pleasure in Sledge’s misery, but it made me feel wanted in a way I hadn’t in a long time. Sledge still loved me in spite of it all. I wasn’t sure how to respond. How do you tell someone you love them madly, that they’re all you ever wanted in life?
Sledge was blunt and brave. He could say what he was thinking without selfconsciousness. I was raised to keep your thoughts to yourself. You don’t express emotions. My parents never hugged me or told me they loved me. Now I had a man who wanted to give me everything I was missing and more.
The love I felt for Sledge and our baby in that moment was indescribable. It proved to be fleeting. The love I felt was quickly replaced with dread.
We pulled up to the front of Sledge’s place. My father was standing out front, arguing with the doorman. As soon as Sledge saw him, he slammed on the brakes, threw the car into Park and jumped out.
“Stay here,” he said to me.
He slammed the door. I immediately locked the doors. I was scared my father would try to snatch the baby. Sledge didn’t waste time with small-talk. He walked straight up to my father. My dad turned to face him. His chest was out, his shoulders square. He turned a severe eye on Sledge and opened his mouth to yell at him. It was clear he thought he could intimidate Sledge into backing down. Obviously, he didn’t know Sledge very well. Sledge was beyond being intimidated. And if my father thought he could order him to back down, he was in for a rude awakening.
Sledge punched him in the face harder than I’ve ever seen him hit anyone. My father’s head snapped back. To his credit, he didn’t drop to the ground. He was a strong guy. In his youth, he’d been a professional hockey player. He knew how to take a blow. Sledge had taken him by surprise though. No one ever stood up to my father like this. He wasn’t prepared for a fight.
Sledge hit him again. This time he went down.
Sledge loomed over him, his hands balled into fists at his side. I’ve heard stories about people so filled with rage that they literally shake. I always thought this was just a dramatic, narrative flourish, but Sledge actually shook with anger. It was like every cell in his body was electrified with the need to destroy my father.
For once it looked like Sledge was trying to use self-control. He leaned over my father and grabbed him by the collar. He brought his face close and said something to him. Their faces were an inch apart. Sledge’s eyes were filled with murder. My father’s showed an emotion I’ve never seen from him before: fear.
After Sledge was done speaking to him, he jumped back into the car and sped around the corner to the parking garage.
“What did you say to him?” I asked.
“I told him he took away two of the most important things in the world to me. Now it’s my turn to take away the only thing he cares about in the world.”
19
The fallout was immediate and devastating. Sledge called the head of our hometown hockey organization as well as the school board. I’m not sure what he told them, but my father was fired immediately.
There was no farewell party, no reminiscing about his career or congratulating h
im on all the professional hockey players he’d produced as a result of his coaching. He was unceremoniously fired.
My father tried to save face by claiming he’d decided to retire. No one believed him though. They knew hockey was my father’s life. Everyone assumed he’d drop dead on the ice, probably while screaming abuse at one of his players.
I was terrified he’d return with a vengeance, but Sledge assured me he wouldn’t. I wasn’t sure what kind of dirt he had on my father but it must have been bad. I begged Sledge to tell me, but he refused. I got my answer one night in the form of a call from my mother. She told me that my father had been falsely accused of sleeping with a student at the high school.
“It’s just the most ridiculous thing,” she said.
There was an unmistakable strain in her voice though. She believed the rumors. The thought of my father cheating on my mother had never occurred to me, let alone with a girl my age. It was gross and terrifying.
When I asked Sledge about it, he only replied: “I’m sorry.”
“So, it’s true?”
“Yes. We all knew about it. No one said anything because he was the coach. He was like a god to us. Everyone worshipped the ground he walked on.”
“I had no idea.”
“I didn’t want to upset you.”
I had no intention of ever speaking to my father again. Still I was shocked to learn the depths of his hypocrisy. He despised me for being a bad Christian all while he was having an affair with a teenager.
What a pig.
My father couldn’t stand the small town gossip about his firing. He left with my mother and they settled in Florida. I didn’t speak to either of them and they made no effort to contact me. It was a relief to know they were far away. Putting all those miles between us helped me relax.
Still, I watched Jake like a hawk.
Sledge had taken to calling him Bear because of the way he growled when playing with his teddy bear. After a while the nickname stuck. Everyone called him Bear. I dreaded the idea that this was the making of a hockey legend. Would he follow in his father’s footsteps?
I held him on my lap as Astrid and I sat and watched the game from the box seats. Bear bounced up and down excitedly. He pointed at the rink below and said: “Dah! Dah!”
I checked my watch. It was getting late. The baby needed to get to bed and so did I. I had class in the morning. After Sledge beat the shit out of my father, he insisted I stay in his condo until we could get things settled. I never left.
Sledge and I started out sleeping in separate bedroom, but soon enough we were sharing a bed again. By all accounts, Svetlana was furious when she found out. She tried to change her story and claim it was me all along. I’d attacked her, tried to murder her. The cops didn’t buy it. They’d heard one too many of her lies.
Sledge’s lawyers threatened to sue her and leak all the dirt they had on her to the press if she didn’t stop making wild accusations. She kept her mouth shut and moved on to a wealthy oil baron. We hadn’t heard from her since and I hoped we never did. Svetlana was part of a chapter in my life I never wanted to revisit.
Sledge and I were forging on ahead. We were going to make a life together and put the past behind us. No one was going to tear us apart.
Suddenly the crowd erupted. Bear yelled excitedly. Sledge had gotten into a fight. Again. What a surprise. I watched as Sledge knocked a player’s helmet off and hit him.
“Okay… I think that’s enough hockey for one night,” I said.
I picked up Bear and carried him out of the arena. He didn’t need to watch his father fight another man. Besides, what if it gave him ideas? It wouldn’t be long before Bear started school. I didn’t want him to think violence was the answer to all his problems. Fighting on the ice is one thing, but fighting on the schoolyard is another.
I put Bear into his car seat, then turned at the sound of cheers. The arena was lit bright. Shadows danced across the clouds. The sound of the audience shouting, “Sledge! Sledge!” echoed through the parking lot. I smiled.
“I think your daddy just scored,” I said to Bear.
His eyes were heavy with sleep. He yawned, then his eyes closed. It was only a matter of time before Bear started playing hockey. God help me. I was going to be a hockey mom.
I got behind the wheel of the car and drove through the city. Traffic was light, but the city was alive with possibility.
How had we come this far? I never dreamed I’d find happiness, or that I’d ever feel safe again. Sledge had given me my life back. I was free. Together we would build a home and family.
The End
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