Chapter 164: Keaner III—Worry So Much
Keane couldn’t remember if he had seen anyone so obviously in love with Mimi as Danny was. He had seen infatuation, like with Alex, and with Drury. He had seen that sort of temporary addiction as with some of the other men she had courted around her. He had seen it in himself but he had never seen someone so lost as Danny was. He had seen the kid’s face after Mimi had kissed him and it was the face of someone touched celestially. It worried him, that look did. Something could go too far here.
Dammit Michele was such a brat that she was used to having everything go her way around her. Patrick was the same way in a sense. Patrick, however, lost games, lost playoff series, he dealt with getting scored on so his expectations although high, were also accustomed to defeat. Michele, well he couldn’t recall her losing very often. How could she handle something that went out of her control?
“You worry too much Keaner,” Mike muttered to himself as he leaned over the boards watching the opening face off.
“What?” Noter asked. Keane looked into the kid’s glowing, fresh face and eyes. He felt a twinge of fear but he didn’t know for whom.
“She kiss you aye?” Keaner said to him.
Danny blushed instantly. Oh yeah, he had it bad this one. He couldn’t even begin to hide his feelings.
“She kissed all of us, right?” Danny said helplessly.
Keane smiled at him. “Of course she did, of course.”
Keane leaned over the boards and watched the play go down the ice. Sakic shot a puck in at the goaltender from the blue line. It looked like a harmless shot but somehow it squeaked past the goalie’s arm and into the net. The red light went on and the applause was instantaneous. Keane raised his eyebrows. Now that was too easy! Not everyone was even at their seats yet.
“Woah, we’re only fifteen seconds into the game!” Hinote exclaimed.
“We’ll take it,” Keane muttered.
He watched
as one of the Rangers skated to the distraught looking goalie, was it the kid
playing,
Line change, puck drop.
Within seconds the red light was blaring again and Alex Tanguay was hopping in celebration. Keane grimaced. If a game started this easy, it wasn’t a good sign sometimes. Knee injurys, bruised ribs, those were usually the price to pay for such games.
“What the hell is going on?” Adam Foote exclaimed, “Two shots on goal two goals.”
“They gotta be changing the goalie,” Danny Hinote replied.
Keane shook his head. He couldn’t see any move being made to change the goaltender on the Rangers part. They were just talking to the kid again. Dunham had to be injured, that would be the only reason why they weren’t even starting the game with him.
“Woah can you believe it man?” he heard Derek Morris giggle as Sakic left on another line change. “I mean damn I thought Michele was really gonna go down on Debbie! Heh heh, those chicks were hot!”
Keane grinned. Poor little Debbie, her eyes were wide and she kept giggling as Michele had ravished her body as much as five minutes of heavy petting would allow. It didn’t seem as if Debbie had really known what she had gotten herself into and she had seemed a bit lost. And Joe! Taking her in the back like that. It was good for them, they needed something like that in their marriage.
“Hey stop it!” Danny Hinote protested. “Look those ladies were only trying to get their charity game and you guys have to abuse their trust like that!”
“Hey they got what they wanted,” Chris Drury said. “Why shouldn’t they put on a little show?”
Hinote shook his head and Keane patted him on the back. “Noter,” he said, “They’re not twelve year old girls. They can handle it.”
Large, mournful eyes, a little boys helpless eyes. Keane sighed. It was hopeless. The boy was lost. It wasn’t as if Michele would keep him, he could recover. But there was just that nagging feeling telling him something important was about to happen. He couldn’t recall if he’d ever had that feeling before. Perhaps it wasn’t important at all and he was just overreacting.
The Rangers
had slid the play down into their own end, they wanted as little of the play
near
“Man I can’t stop thinking about those babes!” a voice on the bench bellowed.
Keane looked at Sakic who was jumping onto the ice. Joe had heard that comment and he glanced at them with narrowed, irritated eyes. There was a hush all around as Joe skated into the play.
“Shut up about them,” Adam Foote snapped. “That was the captain’s wife.”
Keane could see the play hemming in on Patrick’s net. He made a save but the puck slid to an open end. Sakic batted at it to move it out but hit it the wrong way, sliding it straight into the net. There were cries of horror from the stands and surprise off the bench. “Gawdammit!” Keane roared at his teammates on the bench. “No bothering the captain!”
Joe was shaking his head as he skated back to the bench. “Guys,” he said but he was interrupted by Footer who merely said that they could cover that easy. No problem.
Keane jumped onto the ice, he looked briefly at Hinote who was skating to the other corner and he settled into the face off circle. Puck dropped. Keane scrabbled it back and slid it to Skoula who turned to take it out of the zone. He was stripped of it however and the puck was dumped back into their zone.
Patty went for it behind the net and Keane took it from him. As Patty was settling in his crease Keane heard Mark Messier bellow at him. “Hey Patty you ain’t giving your woman enough at home?”
“Fuck off,” Patty yelled and Keane passed the puck over to Noter.
Keane skated to Messier and swatted his stick at the man’s heavy calves. “Outta the crease jackass!” Keane yelled.
Messier laughed. “Yeah Patty,” and the puck was shot at him, Messier tipped it and Patty blocked the shot back into the crowd of players. “Your woman was sniffing around our locker room, she popped Danny Blackburn, the hungry slut.”
Keaner actually paused and stood still as he looked at Messier in surprise. Another shot flew at them and Patrick caught it only to juggle it awkwardly and actually drop it into the net. The red light blared and the crowd groaned in disgust.
“Shit!” Patrick spat and he stood straight up. “Liar!” he snarled at Messier.
Keane was shaking his head and he stepped in between Messier and Patrick as the old man skated closer to the goalie. Dammit Mimi, he thought, what have you done now?
“Nope,” Messier snipped. “I’m not lying, the little whore spanked the kid and pumped him with her sugar cookie scent. She called him a ‘silly puppy’ hehe sound familiar?”
“Whore!” Patrick snarled and he went at Messier. That sent up a commotion and Keaner snatched ahold of Messier’s jersey, tugging him back as the refs got in between everyone. Fortunately no penalties were called on it. Just warnings were issued.
“Patty you know he’s lying just leave it aye?” Keaner said quickly and the goalie’s eyes met his, burning blue and sparking.
“She’s a whore you should have tossed her long ago.”
Keane felt a chill because he didn’t see Patrick’s lips move and the voice wasn’t at all familiar. Patrick flinched and hit his stick back against his goalposts. “I don’t know what to do with her sometimes,” Patrick said in a gravelly voice.
Keane nodded. “But you love her same don’t you?”
Patrick didn’t answer him.
Keane sighed as he skated back to the bench. Directly off the face off, Dvorak scored on Patrick with a high shot that seemed at first as if were going wide but the way Drury was stomping his foot in pain it must have deflected off him into the net. Patrick was flinching and yelling as he circled around his net, obviously angry with himself. Keane looked back up at the score board, they were now trailing 3-2. Yup, he never did trust those easy leads.
The rest of the period was uneventful save for the booing from the fans at the horn ending it. Everyone was silent at first in the locker room. Patrick sat quietly by himself on the bench, sulking. Keane was surprised to see actual age showing on his face, lines around his eyes and mouth deepened with a frown. Patrick was getting old, wasn’t he.
“Come on boys!” Keane barked. “Two flukies, we can take it.”
The second period was where things got interesting.
Keane noted
sometime during the beginning of the period that
“What he say to ya Cap?” Keaner asked.
Joe frowned and then laughed. “Kid asked for my autograph after the game.”
Keane laughed. He then leaned over to Peter Forsberg. “Hey Pete,” he said.
Forsberg looked at him with his icy eyes. “Yeah?”
“You liked what you saw, Mimi’s hand up Debbie’s skirt?” he whispered.
Peter’s grin was instantaneous, “Hoo yeah,” he whispered back.
“Mimi’s
sitting right behind
As soon as
Peter jumped off the ice, he whispered the same thing to Drury, Reinprecht, Messier and Hejduk
Results were not far off as Peter, Drury and Mess scored a quick string of
goals over the next five minutes to pull them ahead 5-3. What really tickled
Keane was that it was obvious that
Keane sighed and looked at Michele as she was sitting with Jana in her lap. He knew he worried too much.
“I think I’m going to leave him, Mike. I just can’t do this!”
Keane frowned and he looked at Michele as she picked at the food on her plate. She had been lonely, he knew that, these past few days and he had finally convinced her to just drop the kids off with a friend and actually leave the fucking house. He had taken her to Le Cirque Bleu, a gorgeously expensive little restaurant. She didn’t seem too interested in the food at any rate.
She finally looked up from her plate; there were no tears in her eyes. There was only a dull sort of resignation. “I haven’t seen him in two days, Mike. Two days! Where is he? I saw him play last night but he didn’t come home, I don’t know where he’s staying.”
Mike had seen her, a thin slip of a girl. She was barely old enough to be living on her own, pale amber eyes, long dark hair.
“He hasn’t been home?”
Michele rolled her eyes. “No, he hasn’t. I mean, I suppose I could handle it but the babies, what about them?”
She liked to sit in Patrick’s lap and giggled when he nibbled on her throat.
“I don’t know what he’s been up to,” Mike replied. “I’m really sorry.”
Michele finally speared a strip of duck onto her fork and chewed it slowly. She sniffed. “Mike I know I blew it, I know I did. I’m not saying none of this is my fault because I suppose all of it was. I shouldn’t have done it, there isn’t an excuse. But the fact that I did? What does that say about me eh?”
She took a long drink from her wine and Mike watched her slim throat move with her swallows. That was the part of her he loved the most. He loved closing his hand over that throat and holding it there lightly. Thinking of that, however, just reminded him of how much he really wanted to kill Mathieu Schneider for even breathing on that peachy skin of hers.
“I can’t tell you how to feel, Meems,” Keaner said. “That’s up to you.”
Michele’s forehead crinkled as she looked at him. “Mike I don’t know! That’s the part that bothers me. I know there was a time when the sight of him made me tremble, when he looked at me and I felt myself disappear from my own independence. I never wanted to be anywhere else. And I don’t want to be anywhere else but…” She frowned and leaned her chin on her hand, closing her eyes. “Mike, he doesn’t love me anymore. You know why I did what I did?”
Mike nodded although she wasn’t looking at him.
“I wanted his attention, badly,” Michele said. “I wanted him to notice me again and feel possessive. I wanted to know that he still thought that I was something worth fighting for. When he found out, I knew he would… Mike you know how he’s always hated Matty, yes?”
Keane nodded but inwardly he was boiling that she even called Schneider by an affectionate nickname. “What happened?” he said gruffly.
Michele opened her eyes. “He… he looked at me with these blank eyes and he…”
She stopped and swallowed. Keane felt a twinge of anger. Patrick had stormed straight into the locker room, quiet, with blank eyes. It hadn’t been until the second intermission when Patrick had snipped about Schneider’s less than alert defensive skills for the game. Schneider and responded by swinging a punch at Patrick. It hadn’t taken long. Muller had held the rest of them back while Patrick and Schneider exchanged blows. Keane had never seen that flash of violence in Patrick’s eyes before, although he had heard that it could happen. Schneider hadn’t put up too much of a fight either before he turtled on the locker room floor, breathing heavily and trembling.
It was Schneider actually who had asked for the trade, and a trade was what he had got.
“He didn’t hit you, did he?” Keane asked.
Michele shook her head. “No, and that’s the funny part because I feel as if he had. I almost wish that he had, it would be easier to explain.”
“Just explain,” Keane said and he reached over the table and grabbed her hand. It was cold and smooth, and it tickled those ever present feelings he had in him.
We learned to swim and so will you.
Michele took a sip from the wine. “He shoved me, and I fell to the ground but I don’t know if he shoved me that hard or if I just threw myself down. He didn’t say anything he just got down on his hands and knees and he crawled towards me, and his eyes were so dead. I… I didn’t know if he was going to hurt me, it suddenly seemed possible that he would. At that point… at that point I felt a little excited. And then he put his hand around my throat and squeezed just a little. But he didn’t leave a mark on me, he just stood up and walked out. Said nothing the entire time.”
Her name was Dinah or Diana. She sounded American, spoke little French. There were bruises on her throat constantly. And Patrick never spoke of her by name.
“Come on,” Mike said, “Let’s get you home.”
As they were getting up from the table, Michele had insisted on leaving the tip. Mike walked a few steps away from her and that’s when the waitress came. Mike saw the woman say something and Michele blanched and stepped away from her. Mike was quick to her side. “What she say?”
“Let’s just go,” Michele snapped picking the money off the table and tossing it at the girl. “I hate this fucking city.”
“Well?” Mike snapped looking at the waitress who was glaring at them, “What did she say?”
Michele sighed and pressed her fingers into Mike’s cheeks, she kissed him fiercely and he wasn’t at all prepared for it. Her lips parted his, there was that heated hungry defiance that he had forgotten was there. It was her ability to sweep a man off his feet and again he felt that rage to Schneider. It was only after she stepped away from him that he heard the murmur go through the restaurant. Of course everyone knew who they were.
“Satisfied, bitch?” Michele snapped looking at the waitress. “Or shall I repeat that?”
As soon as they stepped out into the cold air Michele tilted her head back, her eyes closed and Mike couldn’t help but blush as he watched her. There was something damaged and childish about her. That’s why he felt that need to protect her, why any man felt the need to do it. There was a sickly air about her that could fast poison a mind.
“I hate this fucking city,” she repeated. “I hate it. I hate it. I hate it.”
“In a restaurant? Mike in a restaurant? How could you do this to me? Your wife!!” Tammy screamed as soon as he stepped into the front door of his house. “Or did she make you forget like she always does?”
Mike raised his eyebrows. “Gossip travels fast,” he said.
“Gossip?” Tammy growled. “No news. NEWS! I get a call from Cynthia saying you were at Le Cirque making googoo eyes with that slut and kissing her for everyone to see. It’s embarrassing!”
Mike held his breath, feeling his pulse race and the anger fill him. He wasn’t sure who to be mad at. He knew he should be mad at Michele and her disregard for his name but he found he was angrier with Tammy. “Aw blow it Tammy,” Keane snapped. “Life goes on.”
“No it doesn’t,” Tammy said. “I am you wife. I am the mother of your children and… Oh Jesus Christ you stink like her too! How could you?”
Mike frowned. “Now you’re just being paranoid,” he replied.
“You’re obsessed with her, aren’t you?” Tammy whispered, tears in her eyes. “Aren’t you?”
Keane ran his fingers through his thinning hair and closed his eyes. He wasn’t going to yell at her. “No, I think you are. All you women are and it’s pathetic.”
Tammy laughed humorlessly, her eyes wide and incredulous. “Don’t be ridiculous!”
“Well,” Mike snapped, looking at her. “It’s obvious all you women do is gossip about her doing things that she’s never done and blowing the things she has done out of proportion. You can’t get enough of her. All I hear from you or their lips day in and out is anecdotes about her latest exploits it’s tiring. How about getting a friggin life?”
Tammy remained silent and breathing heavily. Mike wanted to apologize but he didn’t.
“Get out,” Tammy whispered. “Get out now I can’t look at you right now.”
Mike pressed his forehead on the steering wheel. He shouldn’t worry so much about her. It was ruining his marriage. It was disrupting his life. Michele wasn’t a child, Patrick wasn’t hitting her. There was no reason for him to go out of his way like he did. He was hooked. He knew it. He was hooked and sometimes it felt as if he were drowning.
“Did you forget something?” Michele asked, her eyes wide and questing when she opened the door and saw him.
Mike shook his head.
“Daddy?” the voice rang out, the little boy’s voice. Mike saw Jonathan run into the room dressed in his pajamas a large bear in his arm. The golden retriever barked and ran to Jonathan, wagging his tail and licking his hand. The boys face darkened when he saw Mike and he sat down on the carpet. Michele went to him and scooped him up.
“Come on to bed, Daddy will be here tomorrow, yes?” Michele said and she walked away with the boy. The dog followed them, his claws clicking over the wood floor.
Mike stepped into the house and closed the door, hanging his jacket in the closet.
It wasn’t long before Michele came back. “Who is she?” Michele asked.
Mike saw those amber eyes, that small little waist.
“What?” he asked.
“Don’t lie,” Michele sighed. “It will not make me feel better, yes?”
Mike shrugged. “I don’t…”
“Tell me or get out!”
Mike sighed. “Look, I don’t know her name. I think she’s a prostitute.”
Michele frowned. “A prostitute? Does he love her?”
Mike shook his head.
Michele nodded and then Mike felt almost nervous as she took his hand and walked with him into the bedroom. He hadn’t been with her like this in quite a few years but there was something different about this time. She wasn’t being warm and playful and her kiss was melancholy and searching.
She looked at him with mournful eyes and then she sat on the bed and slipped out of her sweater, dropping it onto the floor. He could see that she was trembling. Feeling a sorrow gnawing in his throat, Mike knelt on the carpet in front of her, pressing his palm against her soft cheek and looking into her eyes.
“That’s not what I came here for,” he said. “I don’t expect that from you.”
Michele leaned forward, hugging him to her warm skin. Her heartbeat was slow and comforting. Mike closed his eyes and inhaled. “Why are you here?”
Mike looked up at her and she kissed him again, softly, her hands sliding over his shoulders and goading his body to rise and slide over hers. He kissed her throat and the smooth slope of her collarbones.
“I can’t,” he whispered.
“No one’s forcing you,” she replied.
She was sleeping now. The goosefeather comforter was piled all over her body and moving with her breath. Mike was sitting on the cushioned, antique French chair that was by the bed, just watching her, knowing she was hidden in there.
Was that the only way she knew how to placate someone. Was that the only way she knew how to entertain someone other than feed him? It worried him. A woman couldn’t live like that for very long, much less carry a family. And he knew he shouldn’t be worried at all. It should be none of his business.
He slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans and sighed. He was sleepy and wanted to go home, but if he didn’t smell like her before, he smelled like her now. At this point he didn’t want to annoy Tammy any more.
“Where’s Daddy?”
Mike looked at the boy. Jonathan was standing in the doorway, the face of the dog at his waist. He remembered Michele laughing about the dog, how he slept in the children’s rooms all the time, ever on the watch to protect them.
“I don’t know,” he said.
Jonathan narrowed his eyes. “Are you hurting Mommy just like the other man?” he asked.
Keane frowned. “Matty?”
The boy frowned back and shook his head. “The mean man. He hurt Mommy and sat on her.”
Muller. Keane closed his eyes briefly. “You’re making up stories kid.”
The boy reddened. “I am not!” he breathed. “The mean man hurt her.”
“Why didn’t Jacques protect her? He would have if you were telling the truth,” Keane replied motioning to the dog. Jacques whined and walked over to him flicking his pink tongue over his fingers.
“Cause Jacques was at the doctors,” Jonathan replied. “And Daddy wasn’t here either. He’s never ever here!”
Keane sighed. “I’m not here to hurt your Mom kid. I like your Mom. I would never hurt her.”
Jonathan stuck out his bottom lip and looked at the bed. The boy’s hair was twisted and twirled all over his little head. Keane couldn’t help but feel amused.
“Come here, kid,” he said reaching out to him.
Jonathan obeyed, walking to him and crawling up into his lap and curling against his chest. Kids were the only reason to live, he knew that now. Kids were the only reason to earn money and marry and love.
“Look kid,” Keane said. “Your Daddy loves all of you. He’ll be back and everything will be a lot better. I can guarantee that. And you have to do something too.”
“What?” Jonathan asked.
“Take care of your Mother. I can’t be doing it and your Dad can’t do it all the time either. She doesn’t seem to want to, so that leaves it to you.” He said knowing the burden he was now placing on the boy’s conscience.
“Take care of Mommy?” he asked.
“Just love her. A son’s love is the only thing a woman can depend on sometimes. Just love her.”
The boy slid out of his lap and crawled onto the bed, wriggling under the comforter. He heard Michele whisper something to him, he saw the movement under the blankets and within the minute he knew that both of them were asleep.
Keane groaned as he stood up and he flicked off the lamp, patting Jacques on the head as he left the bedroom. The retriever whined and then sauntered down the hallway to one of the children’s rooms he supposed.
He didn’t know why he worried so much.
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