Chapter 20: Mimi II--A Little Education

Chapter 20: Mimi II—A Little Education

Michele wasn’t alone when she woke up. Jana was asleep next to her, the girl must have crawled onto the bed sometime during the night. Michele smiled, Freddy was also on the bed too, he was sprawled like a snow angel. She closed her eyes, the sun wasn’t completely up yet, she could sleep in a bit.

She thought of last night. She had Danny right in the palm of her hand, and then she had let him go. Why? She didn’t really know, she just knew that it wasn’t the right time, just yet. It couldn’t be that easy, this time.

Michele dozed off again and woke when she heard the movement next to the bed. When she opened her eyes, she saw Jonathen kneeling next to her. The corners of his mouth were turned down a bit. "Good morning," Michele said quietly.

"Mom," Jonathen said as he leaned his cheek on the edge of the bed, looking directly into his mother’s eyes, "Everything’s gonna be OK right?"

Michele smiled in confusion, "Of course, dear, they’ll catch the man, don’t worry."
Jonathen frowned with his eyes, "No not that," he said. "I mean..I don’t know."

Michele rose to one elbow, scruffing Jonathen’s hair with her fingers. The boy had hair like one of those wild-haired guinea pigs, all twirled and untamable. "What’s wrong, my love," she said. "You look sullen."

"I don’t know," Jonathen said, "Um....do you love dad?"

A sharp electric pain suddenly cut through Michele’s body. "What an odd question," she said with a small laugh. He couldn’t have seen anything last night, she thought.

Jonathen sat straight up. "Mom," he said, "I’m really serious. Do you love dad?"

Michele felt her cheeks reddening. No, she thought, he couldn’t have seen a thing.

"Of course I do," she said, "I love him very much, ever since I met him."

Jonathen nodded slowly, as if he were digesting every word. "I knew it," he said finally, "You’d never leave him right?"

Michele sat up, feeling ill. He must have seen something, she thought. But she didn’t want to believe it. She would never. "Jonathen," she said seriously, holding his face in both of her hands, "You’re starting to worry me. You’re too young to be thinking of such things. I love you too much, and I love your father too much to ever leave. I would die before I would be separated from you. OK?"

Jonathen smiled weakly, and he squeezed Michele in a huge hug. "OK," he said.

"Bon," Michele said, "How about some pancakes this morning? Or crepes, you love crepes. Your father isn’t here so lets take advantage."

Jonathen burst into a huge smile. "Yeah!" he said, "I’m sick of cereal every morning!"

"So Mimi! I know Danny’s been around the past couple days, don’t you dare hold back!" Debbie Sakic said as she squeezed the crook of Michele’s arm.

Michele smiled as she tossed down the pair of Armani shoes she had been looking at. "What do you mean?" she asked, batting her eyes.

Debbie narrowed her eyes, even though she was still smiling. "Come on! Tell me!"

Michele laughed as the women sauntered over to the perfume counter, sniffing gingerly at some French lotions.

"I was close," Michele said nonchalantly, "or shall I say, Danny was very close."

Debbie raised her eyebrows, "Danny?"

Michele waved off the perfume girl offering them assistance and after looking around, checking to see if anyone was listening, she leaned back on the glass counter.

"Danny was eating out of my palm last night," she said, "He’s a real sweet boy."
"I know that!" Debbie exclaimed, holding out her hands. "What happened?"

"He’s chivalrous!" Michele chimed, "He wants to be a savior, he can’t abide a woman’s suffering, especially if he thinks that he caused it somehow. So I simply play that card."

"Awww," Debbie said in mock pity, "You’re torturing him aren’t you?"

Michele laughed and held up her hand, making a little pinch with her fingers and holding her hand up for Debbie to see. "Just a little," Michele said. "Not too much."

Debbie crossed her arms.

"He carried me to bed last night, he thought I was sleeping. I thought he would just tuck me in, you know, a little gentleman," Michele said, "But do you know? He began to take advantage of me! He thought I was vulnerable, and the little chaton began to kiss my back, softly."

Debbie put her hand on her chest and sighed. "Ohhh," she said, "You have all the fun! And...?"

Michele held her arms out. "And I stopped him."

"Why?" Debbie exclaimed.

Michele wrinkled her nose. "It just didn’t seem right at that time. I suppose, I don’t know, it can’t be that easy. Where’s the fun in that! I’d like to see where this one goes."

"I don’t know," Debbie said, "Don’t play with your food too long, it might spoil."

Michele nodded. "The cat can lose a mouse, no? I think I’ll wait for Patrick to come home, and see what happens then."

Debbie leaned forward and placed her hand on Michele’s arm. "You’re evil, my dear," she said.

Michele laughed hard. "Non, non!" she giggled. "I just enjoy myself! It’s not like I’ve killed anyone."

Debbie laughed. "True," she said. "Come on, Mimi, I need some lunch."

"So what about Cecile," Debbie asked Michele as they were nibbling on their salads at lunch.

"What about her?" Michele said after a sip of water.

"Well," Debbie continued, "You are taking her in on the weekends, and I know how you are about nannies....this isn’t just to unite to lovers, is it?"

Michele shrugged. "I’ll think of something, I don’t know everything!" she exclaimed through a mouthful of lettuce. "It seems like a charming situation, though, doesn't it? Lots of possibilities."

Debbie nodded, swallowing. Then her eyes widened. "Ooooh, Mimi....not Patty! You’re not going to feed her to Patty, she’s too sweet!"
Michele smiled. "You’re so melodramatic, Debbie," she said. "Patrick will do what he wants, although you have given me an idea. Cecile could do with a little education, don’t you think?"

Debbie smiled carefully, her eyes never left Michele for the rest of their lunch.

A little education.

Michele thought about the phrase as she sighed and relaxed on her bed. It would be an hour before she was to be up again, picking up the children from school, taking them to hockey practices, bringing them home, making dinner, and there was Patrick’s game in Phoenix tonight. She was going to be off her feet for just this hour.

Michele closed her eyes. She could feel Danny’s soft, shy kisses on her back, on her fingers. They were a little boy’s kisses, kisses that she received when she was just a girl. She had forgotten what kind of kisses those were until last night.

Patrick had never kissed her like that, not even when it was their first kiss. They were practically babies then, she hadn’t even been twenty. He was twenty, and already playing starting goal for those damned Canadiens. In fact, that’s how he had tried hitting on her, by flaunting his position as he sat next to her at a softball game. Michele had disliked him immediately, a skinny, reddish haired, pale, arrogant brat.

But he certainly had been persistent. And he was exciting.

She liked him after he had his nose broken, trying to slug away at a group of thugs who had dared to look at her. Of course he had been beaten badly and he lay there in a pool of blood and bruises, wheezing through his busted nose. "Just try that again! Again!" he kept howling, acting as if he had won the fight.

Well, there must be something to this one, she had thought. So she went to dinner with him, and almost immediately, to bed with him. That was the fun part. There was a frantic, almost violent urgency to his love-making, if that’s what it could be called. She was left almost scared and breathless, slightly bruised and exhausted. A definite keeper.

When she started going to games, she had noticed the same raw, frantic energy in his game. It was hard to watch. He’d make the most spectacular saves and then have the crowd of Montrealers hissing for his head after he’d overplayed a shot, abandoned the net Jacques Plante style to chase down an unchaseable puck, or just simply abandoned the net to attack someone. He’ll be in the minors by the playoffs, Michele had thought to herself.

It didn’t matter. She decided that she liked him a lot. It wasn’t until they had been together for a few months that she decided that she loved Patrick. She had dropped by Montreal Canadiens’ veteran Lucien DuBlois’ house where Patrick was billeting. It had been his first day back from an extended roadtrip, and she was excited to see him.

Her smile had disappeared as she entered the dank basement where he was sitting on his bed. He didn’t even notice her as she sat down next to him, he was just looking at his hands, tears dripping onto his palms. "Patrick," she said, "What’s wrong?"

Patrick just looked at his hands. "I can’t do it anymore, I can’t fight anymore. I couldn’t fight him this time....I was too tired...I had just played a game, and I couldn’t fight him...."

Michele had felt cold at that moment. "Patrick," she said. "What happened?"

Patrick didn’t answer her, he just kept muttering to himself. It had started to scare her. "Patrick," she whispered, running her fingers through his shaggy hair, "It’s alright, you’re alright..."

Patrick suddenly reacted like a cornered dog, with a vicious look in his eyes that she had never seen before, he had grabbed Michele and pinned her onto the bed. "I’m a man!" he snarled into her face, "I’m a man!"

"Patrick!" Michele had gasped, she was frightened.

"I’m a man," he had hissed and then he kissed her hard on her mouth.

Michele relaxed gradually as he continued to kiss her, pinning her wrists above her head. Her heart was beating too fast for her to feel it, but her body was becoming more and more limp. He wasn’t hurting her at all, he was exciting.

It wasn’t until after they were done, that Patrick broke down into tears again, apologizing for his behavior and then explaining the reason. It was Mario Tremblay, he said. The man was unspeakable and so were his appetites. Patrick didn’t know what to do anymore, Tremblay was a locker room veteran and Patrick could never dare break the code of silence that all teams held sacred.

"He treats me like I’m a girl," Patrick finished telling Michele, "He keeps asking me if I love him....I..I..don’t know what to do."

Michele thought to herself, how much it hurt her to see him like this. She wanted him to be happy, she wanted to make him happy. She loved him.

"Patrick," she whispered, leaning against his chest, "There is something you can do, without breaking the silence."

"What?" Patrick had asked her.

"Break his heart," Michele answered. "I think you should give this Tremblay, a little education, no?"

The alarm rang loudly in Michele’s ear interrupting her reverie and she sat up, breathing heavily. It was time to get the children, to start life again. She didn’t have time to be thinking about the past.

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