The entire bar was silent. I felt like I was in an old-timey movie and the record player in the back just screeched to a halt. You could have heard a pin drop in that damn place.
“To scumbags!” a bearded, burly customer hollered back from the bar and the rest followed suite, thankfully.
Without missing a beat, I sat behind the small piano and let Say Something by A Great Big World pour from my soul.
Gret
I sat entranced by the heartbroken singer as she bared all of her feelings for the packed bar. I felt like my heart was breaking along with her on that stage.
When her set was over, I had Jackie send her a drink on me.
Jackie met her at the side of the stage with a rocks glass in hand. Etta smiled as Jackie pointed at me.
My heart started racing as the songbird flew to my side. Her long dark hair was swept up in a bun, showing off bare dainty shoulders in her strapless, dark blue evening gown. The storm brewing in her irises met mine as she took a seat next to me.
“Cheers,” she giggled as she clinked her glass to mine.
“You were fantastic. You deserved someone to buy you a drink after that performance. Sorry to hear about the scumbag lawyer.”
Throwing a duffle bag at her feet, she shrugged. “Just lost a hundred and eighty-five pounds of dead weight.”
“I can drink to that.”
“Do I know you from somewhere?” Her eyes scanned my face as she tried to place me.
“I come here a lot,” I admitted.
“Maybe that’s it then.” Etta pulled at her hair, letting it fall into loose curls. Her pale green eyes were glassy as her onyx locks framed her face perfectly.
Jackie leaned over the bar, pointing at my nearly empty glass. “Hayes, another?”
“Just water. I have to be in the barn bright and early.”
“The barn?” Etta asked as she cocked her head to the side. “Where in the hell is there a barn in Manhattan?”
I damned the fact that I was about to explain who I actually was to the gorgeous songbird. “The barn is another name for an ice rink. I have to go skate in the morning.”
“A little big to be a figure skater, aren’t you?” Etta teased.
“Yeah, definitely too big and clumsy to be a figure skater. I play hockey.”
“Like professionally? Are you famous or something?”
Jackie started laughing as she put the water glass down in front of me.
“Zip it.” I shot Jackie a quick glance and she backed away with her hand over her mouth to cover up how hard she was laughing.
“I don’t know if I would say I am famous, but I do play for the New York Otters.” The back of my neck prickled.
“I’m Etta.” She held out her hand to shake mine.
“I’m Gret.”
“That isn’t a name that you hear all that often.”
“It’s a nickname.”
“What’s it short for?”
I swallowed hard. “You have to promise to not laugh.”
Holding up three fingers, Etta smiled. “Scout’s honor, I will not laugh.”
“My name is Gretzky Hayes.” I hated my fucking name. Why couldn’t my parents name me something normal like they did for my two older siblings? My brother got Garrett and my sister got Gwen. And there I was with the stupidest first name that I could never live up to.
“So you had no choice but to become a hockey player, then?” I could see Etta fighting back hysterics. “And I thought it was bad that my mom named me Etta and threw me into voice lessons when I was three.”
“I guess both of our sets of parents had high hopes for us. At least you are incredibly capable to fill the shoes you were born in to. I am middle-of-the-road at best when it comes to talent.”
“Come on now, don’t sell yourself short.”
“Well, you’re not the only one that had a shit night. We can just leave it at that.”
“So, your boyfriend dumped you in the middle of a set, told you that he already sublet the apartment and brought you a bag with a weekend’s worth of stuff in it, too?”
“Fuck. That is really awful.”
“Tell me about it.” She rolled her eyes before sipping her amber drink.
“I lost the game for my team a few hours ago.”
“At least you have a place to stay tonight.” Her eyes locked onto the bar top as her voice broke a little.
A lightbulb went off with the most asinine idea that I could have possibly come up with. It was probably the liquor mixed with my crippling need to do something good after a baleful loss.
“Ok, this is going to be so fucking forward but here it goes. Come home with me tonight.”
Her eyes got wide as she shook her head. “I don’t even know you.”
“Look, I’m not trying to be creepy or get in your pants. I have a spare room in my apartment. You don’t have anywhere to go, I have an extra bed. Simple as that.”
“Fuck it.” Etta chugged the rest of her drink. “It’s not like I am going to be able to find a room in Manhattan this late. Just promise you won’t skin suit me in the middle of the night.”
“What? Fuck no. What in the world does that even mean.”
“You need to watch more crime dramas.”
“Apparently.”
Chapter 3
Etta
What the fuck am I doing?
Walking into Gret’s sprawling apartment was surreal.
How did my life shift so far on its axis?
“The spare room is just down the hall,” Gret explained as he threw his keys in a crystal bowl on the credenza.
I took a few steps into the living room. It was a total man’s place—dark wood and leather furniture, black and white art work, bigger-than-necessary TV taking up most of the far wall.
“Thank you,” I muttered, throwing my duffle bag onto the couch to finally see what Lee had packed for me. Sifting through the contents, all I could find was three shirts, one pair of sneakers, a few pairs of yoga pants, one pair of jeans, a toothbrush, deodorant, and one bra. No panties. None of my makeup. Nothing good enough to handle the New York winter that we were knee deep in.
“Fucking asshole!” I yelled while zipping up the bag.
“Here,” Gret handed me a glass of wine along with a shirt and basketball shorts. “Figured this might help a bit.
“Why are you being so nice to me? We’re strangers.”
Sinking down on the couch next to me, Gret threw the bag onto the floor. “It’s not like I think that you are a damsel in distress or anything. I just saw someone in a bad spot and I have the ability to help. So, why not be a decent human?”
Uncontrollable sobs started to gush as I sat there staring at my knight in shining armor. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
Putting a soft and on my forearm, Gret’s face twisted into pity. “Do you have any family or friends close by?”
I shook my head and started to sniffle even harder.
“Do you have plans for the holidays?” His question took me aback. Christmas was days away with New Year’s trailing right behind. Lee and I were going to spend them like we usually did—alone with him working most of it.
That’s when I completely lost it. “How did I get to this pathetic point where my life revolved around a man?”
“I’ll take that as a no, then.” Gret tried to chuckle a little but there was no way to lighten the black cloud of a mood that I had landed us in.
I pulled his shirt over my dress and wrapped myself in the throw blanket he had given me. “I should probably figure out what the hell to do next. I need a place and a better job. Fuck. I can’t afford anything in this damn city. I’m going to be another failed musician cliché, running back home to live with mommy on her couch.”
“You don’t have to figure your life out in one night. Stay here for a while. I’m gone all of the time between practice and away games.” Gret motioned around his home. “I have way too much space for just one person, a
nyway.”
“What’s in it for you?” I couldn’t help shake the feeling that there’s no such thing as a free lunch.
Gret shrugged, “It’s Christmas and no one should be alone throughout the most magical time of the year.”
“Next you’re going to tell me that you save puppies from gutters and volunteer to cuddle babies in your spare time. No one is that much of a saint.”
“Actually, I don’t save puppies—or at least I haven’t yet. I totally would if the situation presented itself. But I do volunteer to cuddle sick babies and dish food out at a soup kitchen not too far from here when I have the time. A bunch of the guys on my team have started to do it with me.”
“Where did you come from and how the hell aren’t you wifed up already?” I was in shock. Gret was too good of a human being. Like all the gentlemen on the planet should take a page out of the Gretzky Hayes handbook and step up their game.
Filling up our glasses of Zinfandel, Gret glanced over at me. “I was raised right, I guess. And the whole relationship thing isn’t the easiest when I am on the road so damn much.”
“Well, at least you don’t drag some poor girl all over the damn place and then break her heart when life is just about to get good.”
“That’s exactly what I have been trying to avoid. Besides, puck bunnies aren’t usually marriage material. At least not the kind of wife that I would want to have. My mom set that bar pretty high.” Gret started laughing. “That was so damn stereotypical. Momma’s boy trying to find someone just like her.”
“I think it’s sweet,” I admitted. His candor was refreshing. “She sounds like a wonderful lady.”
Pursing his lips, Gret stared off for a second. “I have a Christmas party to go to tomorrow night. I’m supposed to bring a date. Mom kind of requires that we all do. I obviously don’t have anyone to take. Would you go with me?”
I took in a sharp breath. There’s the catch.
“Sure,” I finally spit out. “It’s the least I can do for everything that you have done for me.”
“You already have the dress.” Gret’s voice was lined with excitement as his stormy eyes locked with mine.
“This is very true.”
Yawning, Gret glanced at the clock on the wall. “I have to be up pretty early for practice in the morning. I’m going to turn in. Make yourself at home. The kitchen is through there and my bedroom is just on the other side. If you need anything, just holler.”
As he got to his feet, I leapt into his arms. “Thank you so much.”
Sweetly, he kissed the top of my head. “You deserve a break every now and then, Etta. It’s honestly my pleasure.”
* * *
I had never felt a bed so damn comfortable in my life. Gret’s guestroom was better than any hotel I had every stayed at in my life. A huge flat screen took up most of the far wall. The dresser had a basket of all of the travel size toiletries anyone could ever think of needing—he even had a few bath bombs in there for crying out loud. The queen bed was covered in soft purple sheets and a plush down comforter that felt like a cloud was hugging you—add in the pillows that must have been made by angels and I was in awe.
I didn’t think that it could get any better until I walked into the en-suite bathroom. It was covered in pale marble with dark wood flooring. The tub is what did it for me. Tucked in the corner was the most magical crawl foot bathtub that made me want to get in and never leave.
After brushing my teeth and washing off the pound of makeup I had on my face, I crawled into bed. Grabbing a pen and paper off of the nightstand, I started to make a list of everything I needed to buy the next day to get me through until I could figure out where I was going and how to get my stuff from my mom.
My mom.
I hadn’t thought about it until that very second. I needed to tell her what happened. After my father died when I was seven, she was all I had. Letha James was the strongest woman I knew and she never faltered on telling me how she felt. My mother hated that I was with Lee. She made it a point every time we spoke to remind me that I was throwing my life away. Five years of fighting strained our relationship. I thought that I was proving her wrong the entire time, blindly in love with the wrong man. The entire time, I should have just listened to her.
On the top of the list: call mom and let her tell you ‘I told you so’.
Then the list continued:
Makeup
Panties
Clothes
Shoes
Staring at the four words written out was hilarious. I didn’t need a list for that shit. I needed to buy everything. My entire life was being reduced to boxes being shipped to a home that I wasn’t particularly welcomed in anymore. All because I fell in love with the wrong guy.
Fucking insane.
Putting the pad and paper down, I turned off the lamp and tried to get comfortable. As I was left to deal with just my thoughts, I realized how immature I had actually been over the years. Of course there were tons of people that met their soulmate when they were a teenager, but how could I ever think that I was one of those lucky few? I felt so foolish to not have seen the signs that were glaringly obvious in hindsight.
“You’re an hour late,” I barked as Lee walked through the door.
Throwing his keys and wallet down onto the coffee table he yelled, “You knew when we moved here that I was going to have to put in more hours. I am the new fish swimming with a million sharks out for blood.”
Lee started to take a seat on the couch.
“What are you doing?” I asked as I grabbed my bag before slipping my heels on.
“I am going to sit here and watch the damn game. It was a shitty day and I don’t want to deal with you or anyone else, for that matter.”
“We have a function for your damn company tonight. I am doing you a favor singing at this damn thing.”
Lee pointed to the door. “Then go. I’m not fucking going.”
“You’re the one that always says we have to make sacrifices for your damn career and now you’re just going to be a jerk and sit on your ass while I go and look like an idiot because my boyfriend couldn’t be bothered to make a fucking appearance?” I unzipped my dress, letting it fall to the floor. Standing in my heels, slip and bra, I added, “If you’re not going, neither am I and they can just be without entertainment for the evening.”
“Get that fucking dress back on.” Lee scrambled to his feet. “I’m not the one that is going to look bad because you are scared to go alone.”
Thinking back on that night and countless others, I realized that I really was just a joke to him. Ultimately, Lee had the balls to be honest with me and the rose-colored glasses had finally gotten ripped off my face.
The most bitter pill to have ever pass my lips had hit me hard. I was better off without him. At last, I could be the person I wanted to be.
Chapter 4
Gret
My morning routine was robotic to say the least.
Fight tight muscles and climb out of bed.
Shuffle into the bathroom and start the shower.
Stretch out my back while the water gets hot.
Get clean.
Get dressed.
Make coffee.
Consume a huge breakfast.
Sitting at the breakfast table, I flipped through awful news articles on my iPad about how terribly I played the night before.
Fuck this.
I set the device down and tried to shut off the nagging self-loathing that continued to plague me.
Today is a new day.
There was no way to fix what had happened the night before. All I could do was go in to practice with my head on straight and be better than I was before. The fact of the matter was that it was my job—I needed to get my head out of my ass and do my job better.
Had I given one-hundred percent the night before? Nope. I could have played better, been smarter, fought harder. But I hadn’t. There was no changing that. I wasn’t the best puck handler or fa
stest skater but one thing I did have going for me was the fact that I usually was able to see three moves ahead. I needed to get back to treating hockey like chess instead of checkers.
It was six in the morning. I had about an hour before I needed to get into the locker room but I couldn’t wait. I had a fire lit inside of me that needed to be stoked.
“Morning,” Etta sauntered into the kitchen and my breath was taken away. Literally. I stopped dead in my tracks. The dolled-up woman from the night before was now a rare gem of simplistic beauty. Standing in the middle of the kitchen with her hair up in a messy bun, no makeup, in my shirt with tired eyes and blushing cheeks—she was stunning.
“Ma-morning,” I stammered as I jumped to my feet. “Coffee?”
Rubbing her sleepy, puffy eyes, Etta nodded. “That sounds wonderful.”
“I can make you some eggs or I have oatmeal. I think there’s some fruit in the fridge.” I started yanking food out of the pantry and refrigerator like a crazed buffoon.
“Coffee is perfect. I don’t really eat breakfast,” she responded as she put sugar in her mug.
“Well, I have to eat and I am not going to eat in front of you like some jerk. You don’t have to touch the food, but I’d appreciate it if you at least pretend so I don’t feel like a terrible host.”
“All right.” She smiled at me as she tucked her legs up under her on the plush seat.
I went to town, scrambling egg whites with onions, spinach, tomatoes and peppers. I fried up an entire pound of bacon. Made toast. It looked like I was trying to impress Etta but I ate like that most mornings.
As I put a plate full down in front of Etta, she asked, “What is the plan for tonight? What time do I need to be ready? Am I meeting you there or are we supposed to go together? What is the dress code?”
I laughed as I took a seat across from her. “The party starts at seven. Your dress from last night is perfect. I can drop it off at the dry cleaner before I head into practice and it’ll be ready for tonight. We will go together. I have a car scheduled already. It’s a family party but most of the people will be from my team. My dad’s the head coach, my uncle is the assistant coach. You’ll be meeting tons of people tonight and for that I am sorry.”
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