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Chapter 49: Debbie II
"That was too bad about tonight," Debbie said to Joe, saying anything to break his silence in the passenger seat. The babies were asleep in the back of the car; Joe was just sitting quietly where he was. She hated driving with just streetlights to keep her company. "Peter tried so hard, what a shame."
"Hmmm," he said.
Debbie sighed silently. "Does your head hurt again?" she asked.
"A little," Joe answered quietly.
Why? Debbie cried inwardly. Why did this have to happen? Why did he have to be in pain like this? Why did he have to stumble when he walked, moan in his sleep, cover his eyes from the light if it were too bright sometimes, and even burst into tears for no reason other than the facetious? If it had happened in a game, she could take it, she knew she could. It was something to be expected and dealt with, these concussions, these traumas that had the power to melt a grown man to a weeping, babbling child. But it hadn’t happened in a game. It had happened because of her, because she couldn’t keep quiet, because she wanted him so badly, because she loved him too much. She had pushed him off a cliff. Not just a cliff, but a cliff that was suitable only for love puppy teenagers and other such sleaze.
"I’m sorry," Debbie said. "Joe, really, I’m sorry..."
Joe didn’t say anything. Instead, he reached over and placed his hand on her thigh. His touch was light and warm. An enormous pressure floated from her breast momentarily. Quoteless Joe. He didn’t need to say any words. He never really needed to say any words at all.
It had always irked her the way Joe was always criticized by the press, by other people, even by herself. She knew she was guilty of it, being infuriated by his silences and his restraint. So many people spun in a circle around him, he drew in so many who just strayed near him and were captured by him. It was his silences perhaps, it added an aura of mystery to him and people then craved more. And when he didn’t give more, they became infuriated.
Joe didn’t give out much.
Defense mechanism perhaps, Debbie decided. It had to be. That was the only way he could have survived during those turbulent years when they should have been just kids, courting and kissing and cheering through children’s games and championships. But it wasn’t just a child’s game. It was a rather dangerous game, thought up by Indians with bone skates and a certain bloodlust, a morbid curiosity in seeing how much pain their opponents and teammates could take.
That was why there always seemed to be something wrong with the game Canada cherished so much. As much as the crowds of today cried for a clean up of the violence and blood of the sport, wounded by the many images that are magnified and repeated on the television, as much as exposes on TV and in books cried for the clean up of the game for their children and youth, Debbie knew it would never happen. It was after all, still that violent game of the Indians, refined to that brutal game flaunted and first presented by the crazy Quebecois. There was no changing the root of the sport because it was a sport of survival and a sport of pain. Joe had dealt with it all in Swift Current, and he had survived leading with quiet silence and perseverance. Debbie had always been there by his side, holding his hand, quietly holding onto him throughout all the denials, and whispers and accusations. She knew his survival still depended upon his self-denial and discipline, otherwise, he would be the emotional mirror of poor little Theo.
Debbie sighed. When Pierre had made the initial trade for Theo Fleury it had been a wonderful and horrible day. For one, when Joe heard of the trade, she had never seen his face light up so much, she had never seen him actually gush with such bliss. That had been wonderful, but on the other hand, she worried about what sort of effects it could have in the long term.
It was nice while it lasted. Debbie had always had a soft spot for Theo, the same sweet spot that Joe had for him. It was great having him and his family over, laughing with them, and just seeing Joe relax with someone he truly cared for. But it inevitably brought changes, and Joe was soon emotionally topsy turvy, even picking fights on the ice. Pierre Lacroix saw that immediately, and being savvy as he always was, he made sure Theo was gone.
It was later, after the kids were in bed and the house was relaxing, that Debbie began to realize how sleepy she was. Her feet were hurting and her knees were sore. She yawned before she washed her face and buried it in a soft towel.
How could she have caused such an injury to Joe? So much on his mind, well she wouldn’t bother him anymore. She’d always loved him, and that was enough.
"Oooh!" Debbie squeaked in surprise when she pulled the towel off her face. Joe was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, just looking at her. "Joe, honey, you scared me there. Need the bathroom? I’m done, it’s free."
When Debbie tried to brush past him out of the bathroom, Joe hugged her tightly, taking away her heartbeat and nudging her back in. "I need you," he whispered. "I’ve always needed you."
"Oh," Debbie managed to gasp as he smothered her in kisses, lifting her easily onto the large bathroom counter near the sink, his hand sliding up her nightgown and rendering her helpless. Her eyes filled with tears as she kissed him back, draping her arms over his shoulders, squeezing her legs around his waist.
It was over quickly, too quickly for her to gain much physically from it, but emotionally, it was everything she needed. It was a reaffirming that he still loved her, and that she was still more to him than just a mother to his children, and just a childhood friend.
"I’m sorry," Joe muttered, hugging her against his warm body. "I shouldn’t have surprised you like that."
Debbie laughed silently. Always a gentleman.
"I love you," she whispered. "You can do whatever you like, and I love you. You leave me helpless Joe, you always have."
Joe closed his eyes tightly, was he fighting with emotion? Debbie knew how ashamed he felt whenever someone saw him vulnerable so she slid slowly off the bathroom counter, trailing her fingers across his back and padding out of the bathroom and into bed.
Debbie woke up later that night, Joe was moaning again, sitting up on the edge of the bed and holding onto his head. Debbie sat up, her breast hurting for him and she leaned against his back. "Take your medication, hon," she said.
"I did," he whispered. "It just needs to take."
Debbie kissed the back of his neck.
"You’re so soft," Joe said.
"You won’t be playing anytime soon, will you?" she asked.
"No," Joe said. "I don’t think so."
"Then don’t leave tomorrow," she said. "Stay here for this one roadtrip, stay with me."
"I can’t," Joe said.
"But Danny was allowed to stay," Debbie persisted. "Why can’t you?"
"I’m the captain," Joe said. "My duty is with the team."
But what about a husband’s duties? Debbie thought. But she didn’t say it. She knew what she had signed up for when she married him, and she wouldn’t become a nagging thorn to him.
Joe turned around and kissed her deeply again. Debbie almost fainted when he pressed his body on top of her, pushing her softly back into the bed. Could it be possible that he was willing to go again? Oh heavens!
"Maybe I could stay," Joe said making Debbie’s heart spin. "I could use Danny’s excuse and stay home to watch over Patrick’s family."
Frozen fear shot through Debbie’s veins at the very suggestion that her husband would spend any amount of time alone at that house. Mimi’s sparkling eyes and laugh suddenly punctured her chest. "Oh no!" Debbie cried. "No!"
Joe paused and she could feel the frown on him. "What?"
"No," Debbie said calmly, her heart still racing. "You needn’t stay here just because I’m clinging onto you. You’re the captain the boys need you. I can wait for you."
Joe kissed her again and rested his cheek against her heartbeat. Debbie toyed her fingers through his hair until Joe ran his hands under her waist, lifting her body against his. Almost laughing with bliss, Debbie cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. This time it wasn’t over quickly at all, and she slept soundly afterwards, reliving every kiss and whisper in her dreams.
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