“Hey Mom!” Michele heard Jonathan call out to her heart’s delight.
“Mom!”
The boy had sprung out of Alex’s car and he was bolting up the long
walkway to the front door. Michele wasn’t quite prepared for the force of his
body and hug as he slammed into her, squeezing her and they both fell onto the
grass.
“Mon Dieu bebe!” she exclaimed. “Don’t kill me!” Gigi was barking and
hopping all over them. She then
looked up at Alex and his grin as he strolled up the lawn towards them. “Thank
you so much Alex.”
“Eh,” Alex said, blushing and shrugging. “It was nothing. You
know...”
“Nonsense,” Michele said. “And how have you been my love?” She lifted
Jonathan’s chin with her fingers, looking into his newly vibrant eyes, his
messy, unkempt hair. “You look so much better, yes?”
Jonathan nodded. “Mmmhmm, totally. Alex lets me have junk
fooood!”
Michele narrowed her eyes and looked at Alex who grinned back nervously.
“Well up then, you’re breaking my legs.”
Both Jonathan and Gigi darted into the house first and Michele wrapped
her arm around Alex’s waist as they followed them in. She was pleased to feel
the extra bulk of muscle he was putting on. He had been fretting over the last
few years about still feeling to slim and boyish. “He was not too much trouble
for you I hope?”
“Eh!” Jonathan barked as he began to chase the puppy into the kitchen.
“I’m an angel!”
“No, no,” Alex said. “No trouble at all. In fact it was like a blessing,
it’s been so quiet and lonely at night.”
What a haunting comment! Michele thought. It seemed so simple and blunt.
“Really?” Michele exclaimed, and then she gave him a quick kiss on his cheek.
“Then get yourself a pretty girl, yes? Someone to snuggle
with?”
“Actually,” Tanguay said, looking down at the ground and stepping out of
her grasp. “I was wanting to talk to you about something... Kinda like that but
not really...”
“Oh,” Michele said raising her eyebrows. “What is
it?”
Oh what a shame if the lad were gay! She suddenly thought remembering the
days when he would giggle with Jana on the couch watching cartoons. Sometimes
boys were too perfect.
“Oh... some other time,” he murmured. “I mean not
now.”
Michele smiled a bit tightly and patted him on the waist. “Is good. Come
on then into the kitchen I’ve baked some sugar pies.”
“Oh can I have one to go?” Alex asked with bright eyes. “I mean I have to
meet the guys at Wynkoops in like half hour?”
“Just one?” Michele smiled.
“Two?”
“So what did you do?” Michele asked Jonathan airily as she sipped at a
glass of water after Alex had left and the boy was digging into his
pie.
“It was great!” Jonathan said through a mouthful of pie. “Alex took me to
Palomino’s after you left me there and the Sakic’s were there and the
Trepanier’s and even Peter and his GODDESS!”
Absolutely tickled inside Michele lifted an eyebrow.
“Goddess?”
Jonathan blushed. “I mean Miss Ruiz.”
“Aw that’s nice,” Michele said. “So it was a
party.”
“Something like that,” Jonathan said taking a gulp of milk and wiping his
mouth. “I think it was just gonna be the Sakics and Peter and Jo but then Debbie
invited us and then the Trepanier’s came in and sat with us. And Peter and Jo
were late, of course everyone was interested in that.”
“Of course,” Michele said. “Did you discuss anything interesting?” She
began to take a long drink of water.
“Well,” Jonathan said squinting one eye. “Kinda... I heard Mrs. Trepanier
mention something about a “delicious evening” and that made Debbie spit out her
drink and yell ‘Jesus Christ’. That was pretty funny.”
“Jesus Christ!” Michele yelled spitting out her water. I am going to kill
that woman! She thought. I am going to strangle her that little
snake!
Jonathan paused and then laughed. “Yeah just like that Mom, you’re pretty
funny!”
Grimacing and looking up at him wiping at her mouth and forcing a grin so
as not to make him suspect anything. “I try,” she giggled and shook her head.
“Like that then?”
“Yeah,” Jonathan laughed. “I wonder what it was. Except since I’m a kid
they don’t tell me anything. And the ladies all left for the
bathroom...”
“Well it’s just nice to see you smiling again,” Michele said kissing the
top of his head.
“Yup,” Jonathan said. “And I got school tomorrow...
guh-reat.”
There are many reasons why I shouldn’t feel blessed. Michele thought to
herself as she wrapped the quilt around Jana, the baby girl finally asleep.
There are many reasons why I don’t deserve to be. There are a million reasons
why I should be miserable and sometimes I am.
She didn’t want anymore children than this, she decided. And Patrick
finally had his daughter. Perhaps he would agree. She was tired. The babies were
tiring, beautiful to be sure, adorable for certain, but she would be glad when
finally one by one they would go to school. That would be awhile yet for the
littlest one.
And the people around her as well. Tiring and draining with questing
eyes. The lockout had left a great many men at home, an almost cold shock for
the wives. Day by day Patrick growled and stalked around the house, dying to be
back on the ice. It was fortunate that the babies were still small, in that
respect because they would occupy him for a spell during the day, drawing a
smile from him. Otherwise, domesticity pissed him off and he didn’t want to be
home when he knew that there would be no games or roadtrips to go to. Michele
hardly saw him.
She missed him. She missed his post win giddiness, lustiness, and even
his post loss growling and glaring. She just wasn’t seeing him anymore and when
he slept in their bed all he would do is dream, yell, and snore. When was the
last time he had touched her?
That was perhaps one of the reasons why she still tolerated Matty
Schneider when he came prowling around, somehow always knowing when the babies
were down for a nap. He had come over one day, with a smile and a kind hand. She
knew what he wanted and how he was only slightly concerned with her problems,
and that he thought himself to be so clever seducing the goalie’s wife. For a
spell, Michele had let him believe in his own dominance, played the game he
thought he was leading.
He wasn’t very interesting though, and Michele had long ago become bored
of him. She just didn’t have very much energy to shoo him away. In a way, she
was half hoping that Patrick would actually come home and catch them as he
weakly slipped his body into her own, pressing her onto the couch. Then that
would be interesting. She knew Patrick couldn’t stand Schneider, and it would be
fun just to see Mathieu’s face when Patrick’s rage was directed at
him.
Michele had thought that it was more than likely Mathieu when she went to
answer the door after the babies were in bed. Already she had decided that she
would just tell him to be gone for good, she was sick of his ten-minute
fumblings. Kirk Muller, their captain was standing in the doorway. Michele
sighed; she didn’t like this scenario. Muller was a new captain, and even though
hockey was not being played, he was still recognized as such. Briefly, she
thought about not answering the door.
“Hello,” she said with her brightest voice when she answered
it.
Muller’s dark eyes did not smile with his mouth. “Hello Michele, can I
come in?”
“Patrick, he is not here,” she said quickly.
“I know,” Kirk said. “I wanted to talk to you.”
Michele sighed and stood still for a moment before standing back and
letting him in. He didn’t smell like liquor she noted as he passed by her. At
least that was good. “Can I get you a drink?” she asked
politely.
“No,” Muller said as he sauntered right into the living room, looking
around it. He leaned over and peered at a framed photograph of the three
children.
“Isn’t it a darling,” Michele said a but nervously. “They actually
behaved for it.”
“Are you expecting anyone?” he said bluntly.
Michele swallowed. “Oh... yes actually I...”
“Don’t lie,” he said and he turned around to look at her, his eyes as
black as ever. “You’re not expecting anyone.”
“Then why did you ask?” Michele snapped, dropping all pretenses if he was
going to.
“We have a Code,” he replied and Michele felt the ice of it inside of
her. When was the last time she had heard that phrase?
“I know you do,” she answered.
Muller sat on the couch and patted the cushion next to him. Michele could
feel her pulse quicken, and her stomach twisted. The moment Guy Carbonneau was
no longer to be captain she missed him dearly. His eyes had always been so dark
and kind. Muller’s never had a kind look for her. Deciding not to seem too
adversarial Michele went to the couch and sat tensely upon it, making sure to
keep a cushion’s distance between them.
“You’ve been fucking Schneider,” Muller said.
“Someone’s been talking too much,” Michele replied. “Making up
stories.”
“I know you have,” Muller said. “And I think both of you have forgotten
the rules. The Captain always gets first taste.”
Michele rolled her eyes and glared at him. “Don’t be so archaic!” she
snapped. “We’re not living in the 50’s, yes?”
“You’re such a haughty bitch,” Muller said calmly, he was always so calm.
“Why are you such a stuck up bitch? Hasn’t anyone ever put you in
place?”
“I think,” Michele said standing up, “You should leave
now.”
Michele screamed once in fear and surprise when Muller pounced on her,
gripping her tightly and pinning her onto the couch. “Get off!” she hissed not
wanting to wake the children. His mouth was on hers, his tongue alien and
probing, and his hand was gripping her breast so tightly it nearly blinded her
with pain. “Get off!” And then she caught his lip with her teeth sinking them
in, not enough to break the skin but enough to hurt.
“Dammit!” he growled and closed his hand on her throat and raised his
closed fist above her face. “You want me to smash your nose? You get points if I
don’t have to hit you!”
The phrase rattled into her and angered her, unable to
move.
“That’s better,” he said when she let her hands fall limply. He wouldn’t
take long would he? She reasoned to herself. It would only be for a few minutes,
then he would leave, and it would be done. She could see the flushed animal lust
twisting his face as he tugged at the zipper on her jeans, his fingers reaching
down the front of them. And she thought about closing her eyes and then his face
blanched. His eyes almost looked fearful and his fingers stopped probing. His
gaze was fixated she could tell, and it wasn’t on her.
“I can’t do this with him staring like that,” he
whispered.
“Mommy?”
Michele’s heart stopped, that was Jonathan’s voice. Muller had become
limp, he backed off her a little bit, letting her sit up, and she looked at the
little boy. Jonathan was hugging his stuffed bear, his eyes wide and blinking.
He was four; Michele thought absurdly, almost five... how long before he could
forget this sight? “Go back to bed, precious,” she whispered, “Please Mommy’s
just fine.”
Jonathan’s bottom lip trembled and the tiny boy shook his head, stomping
as he went to her and crawled into her lap, burying his face into her breast and
squeezing her. Michele inhaled sharply and wrapped her arms around him looking
at Kirk who had now stood up. Not even he could attack her like this it was
impossible.
With no other word, Muller left, slamming the front door behind
him.
Michele began to hum softly and rested her chin on the boy’s little head
and she again thought to herself, there are many reasons why I shouldn’t feel
blessed. There are many reasons why I don’t deserve to be. There are a million
reasons why I should be miserable and sometimes I am.
And then there was this little boy, the blessing she knew she could never
deserve.
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