Chapter 150: Mimi XX—Boys Boys Boys

 

            When he had called to the house, Michele had been surprised. Of course she had never found him disagreeable and there was a time when she was quite accustomed to him and his problems. Still, it had been awhile since he had called in that pleading, yet somehow serious voice. Just as easily as she used to, she said brightly, “But of course you can come over. You know I am never busy at this time.”

            Of course he had called at the exact time, 1:40. That meant that ten minutes ago Patrick had just consumed lunch, and lumbered up the stairs to bed where he wouldn’t be roused by World War until 4:00. 1:40 was always the safe time to call on game day... well safe? Was that the word; convenient was a more proper word.

            “Oooo what a sad face!” Michele exclaimed when she saw Chris Drury’s pouty mouth on the porch. “Come on in before you freeze on top of that.”

            “Thanks,” Chris mumbled, shaking the snow off his shoes and stepping into the house. Gigi was yapping at his ankles. Chris leaned over and patted the puppy’s fluffy head. “She’s cute!”

            “Yes,” Michele sighed. “She is adorable.”

            Chris stood up and frowned with his eyes. At first glance one would think the way he seemed to scowl was a result of being sour and sulky but Michele had learned fast that that wasn’t true of the young man. He was actually quite tender and shy at heart, in some ways still a little boy. “Is it true then that Modano sent the puppies to Joe? I mean I know everyone’s saying you bought them but...”

            Michele laughed and walked behind Chris, she almost roughly tugged off his snow dusted Jacket. “What do you think?”

            “Oh,” Chris said and Michele draped the jacket over her arm and stepped in front of him again. He had that sulky expression again. “I don’t know. I mean it looks like Modo’s straight now, he was just pulling a fruity act for a trade.”

            “And a wonderful act it was, don’t you agree?” Michele said as seriously as she could. “Yes he sent the puppies complete with a cute and fuzzy love note. Now are you hungry? I could make you...”

            “Oh no, no, no!” Chris said quickly. “No I’m not hungry.”

            Michele raised her eyebrows and smiled at him, at how suddenly pale he had become. She remembered a time when he was moaning about the fifteen extra pounds he was carrying on his body just because of her food. Evidently he was still somewhat traumatized from it.

            “Thirsty?” Michele asked as she hung his jacket up in the coat closet. “Coffee? Hot tea? Hot Chocolate? Warm Milk?”

            “Warm milk?!” Chris exclaimed this time a rare outburst of laughter, a twinkle in his eye. “What am I twelve?”

            “The warm milk I make is not for twelve year olds Chris you know that,” Michele said being careful to add a most offended sniff to it.

            Chris laughed again and shook his head. “No it’s OK, I don’t need anything.”

            Michele blinked and looked at him until the large smile slid off his face and a blush appeared in his cheeks. And then the young man cleared his throat and looked away. “Then what are you hear for if not my food, silly puppy?” Michele said.

            Chris cleared his throat again and looked sideways at her, suddenly looking somewhat sheepish. “Talk,” he said. “I was wondering if we could talk?”

            Michele smiled, relieved that he actually looked honest about that one. “Talk?” she repeated. “Oh of course, come on.”

            She began to walk to the living room but she didn’t hear him following. She turned around and saw him still shifting on his feet in the entryway and she smiled inwardly. He was impossibly cute. “Well?” she said. “I won’t bite.”

            Chris laughed. “Yeah right!”

            Michele crossed her arms. “Not if you don’t want me to, now get over here.”

            Michele sat down upon the couch and watched the young man as he stepped quietly into the living room; making no noise as if he were tip toeing and he sat on the heavy recliner, pressing his palms down onto his thick thighs. He seemed nervous.

            “What’s wrong then?” Michele asked, putting on her most sympathetic face. It wasn’t hard to do that. She still found the lad delightful.

            “You OK?” Chris asked abruptly, as if he were dodging her question.

            Michele frowned. “Pardon?”

            Chris pointed at his forehead. “The cut? Is it OK now?”

            Michele’s hand flew to the cut, which had healed to a deep scab along her hairline. “Oh,” she said, “Oui, is fine Chris. No need to worry, a little scar adds a little character, eh?”

            Chris nodded. “That’s good. When it happened I... I felt so fuck... friggin bad I mean I didn’t think that the glass could break and if I hadn’t have went at Maltby like that. You know.”

            “Is OK,” Michele said brightly. “Is that all that was bothering you?”

            Chris shook his head and looked away. “No,” he sighed. “I mean I don’t know anyone I can talk to without them just... laughing at me! I’m a little depressed I guess.”

            Michele’s heart tickled at the sound of those words. She remembered how he used to say them all the time, rolling away from her body, pressing his palms to his eyes and moaning, “I’m a little depressed.” That was his explanation for everything he went through from colds to anger to trauma, it was just a little depressed. Those days were long passed, as were many things, but familiarity and friendship, she always made sure those were the things that remained. Sweet memories....

            “Well tell me about it,” Michele said as she stood up and unlocked the little bar at the end of the room. She poured a shot of whisky and presented it to him. Chris shook his head and Michele rolled her eyes and pressed it into his warm hand. The speed in which Chris gulped it down satisfied Michele that he indeed has a problem.

            “The guys and I... in Los Angeles,” Chris began, “Well we got into a bit of a situation...”

            Michele nodded. “You don’t need to be delicate, Chris, you know me.”

            Chris raised his eyebrows and he half grinned. “Right.”

            Michele squatted down on the carpet and leaned her chin on the arm of the soft recliner. “Mmmhmm,” she said softly.

            “Yeah,” Chris replied. “Yeah. My girlfriend dumped me.”

            “Oh, I’m sorry,” Michele replied. “So sad.”

            “And it’s because I was a shit, you know. It was my fault.” Chris said, his voice sounded elastic now, whiskey loosened. “And I don’t know if I feel bad cause I was caught or cause I miss her or what! I mean should I go after her? Should I let her go?”

            “Well what did you do?” Michele asked, sensing a tantalizing tidbit here.

            Chris gulped and looked at her with helpless blue eyes, his right eyelid fluttering a but not unlike Patrick’s when he got stressed. “Peter and I got drunk and shared a hooker in L.A. and she bit me all over my body. When Paula saw them she dumped me.”

            Michele could feel the blood inflaming her face and the explosion beginning in her chest, she could feel her bottom lip trembling, and the tears sparkle in her eyes. She pressed her lips into the arm of the recliner and squeezed her eyes shut.

            “You’re gonna laugh too!” Chris said in a whining, wailing voice. “I knew it!”

            “I’m sorry!” Michele laughed and she stood up and pressed her palms on Chris’s shoulder to keep him from jumping out of the recliner and storming out of the house. Chris was scowling hurt and seething pale. She leaned over him and still giggling she stopped herself by kissing his round cheek and pressing her forehead to him. “Please forgive me,” she whispered. “It’s not a thing one expects to hear.”

            “Well I’m sick of people laughing about it,” Chris snapped and he crossed his arms. “I need help!”

            “Ooo no you don’t,” Michele said, wiping the tears from her eyes and sitting on the arm of the recliner. “You’re angry because no one is here to pity you and your newfound loneliness yes?”

            “Noo,” Chris said loudly, peevishly. “That’s not it. I was just confused... I mean I want to get Paula back but I don’t know how.”

            Michele reached over and pinched Chris’s freshly shaved chin and looked down into his face. Why did she not miss this face more often? He was irresistible! “What do you want her back for? Were you in love with her? Did you buy her a ring?”

            “No,” Chris said. “But she was so cool, and I liked her there when I came home...”

            “Psssh!” Michele said hitting him lightly on the top of his head. “You just liked an airport ride, yes?” Still a silly puppy! She thought.

            Chris scowled again but he didn’t deny her.

            “Anyway,” Michele continued. “You wouldn’t want her back, can you imagine the power she would have over you, FOREVER?”

            “Power?” Chris asked. “How?”

            “Women are wicked creatures, Chris,” Michele said. “How can you men be so blind to it? No decent woman would take a man back after he comes home with a few love bites on his body, and if a woman did take him back she is either a woeful doormat or else eager to torture him. Not a fight, not a day, not a disagreement would go by without her getting her way by alluding to “those little bites” and she would lay the guilt. He would be paying for his transgression forever! It isn’t worth it, not for an adorable puppy like you.”

            Chris’s eyes widened with boyish horror. “She would do that to me?”

            Michele shrugged. “If she were smart, and all the power to her, what are you doing with a whore getting bit?? Common sense Chris!”

            Chris nodded. “She is smart. But now I’m lonely!”

            Michele smiled. “And a little depressed.”

            Chris grinned. “Yeah, a little depressed.”          

            Michele couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t really claim “caught in a moment” because she knew exactly what she wanted. She stood up, cupped his cute face in her hands, and kissed him softly on the mouth, tasting the tracings of whisky on his lips. His large hands slid over her back, nudging her forward. Instead of following his lead she broke the kiss.

            “You don’t need to be lonely,” she whispered.

            “I don’t!” Chris agreed and he again tried sliding her onto his lap.

            Michele giggled. “But you don’t need me.”

            Chris scowled again. “But... but...”

            “Ooo you haven’t thought of me that way in... years! And suddenly feeling sorry for yourself you come slinking here? So sad. Non, non, you don’t need me,” she saw the disappointment on his face. “How many pretty girls are in this city? And you a wealthy young man with a charming apartment? How hard would it be to go to those pretty girls and invite one for a drink? Don’t be lazy.”

            “You think I’m lazy?” Chris said with a serious voice and a humor in his eye.

            “I know you’re lazy,” Michele whispered back.

            Chris smiled a genuine smile. “You’re right,” he said. “Like always. I’m sorry to bother you like that... but thanks for everything.”

            Michele stood up, still tasting him in her mouth. “How many bites?”

            Chris blushed anew. “Almost twenty.”

            “Twenty!” Michele gasped. “Are they still there?”

            Chris shrugged, “Some of them.”

            Michele grinned. “Can I see them?”

            Chris narrowed his eyes. “Mimi!”

            The doorbell rang and Gigi leaped off her perch on the couch and ran yapping to the front door.

            “Expecting anyone?” Chris said with raised eyebrows.

            Michele shook her head.

            Chris followed close behind her as she went to answer the door. Debbie Sakic was glowing with the cold, stamping her feet. “Hi Mimi!” she breathed as she stepped into the house, “It’s snowing again I can’t believe... oh I’m sorry am I interrupting anything?” She looked at Chris and suddenly she seemed a little unnerved.

            Michele rubbed the small of Debbie’s back. “Non, not a thing,” Michele said and then she opened the coat closet. “Chris was just leaving anyway.”

            “Yeah,” Chris said agreeably, taking his coat from Michele. “I was just leaving.”

            “Chris and I were just talking to pass the time,” Michele said airily.

            “Yeah,” Chris said in a wistful voice and that whisky goofy look he directed at her made Michele want to strangle him. “You never forget your rookie year....”

            He just stood there, holding the door open, gazing before he abruptly shook his head and scampered out the door. Michele shut the door and looked at Debbie who had one eyebrow raised. “Mimi...” she said in a chiding tone. “You’re not gonna tell me what it seems like you’ve neglected to tell me...”

            “Ooooh dammit,” Michele snapped. “It’s not important now, he was just being pouty that’s all.”

            Debbie nodded and slipped off her jacket. “Riiight. Boys, boys, boys.....”

            Michele had barely hung up Debbie’s jacket when the doorbell rung again and sent Gigi into spasms of excitement. Michele rolled her eyes, there was no way Patrick could sleep through all of this, was there? Debbie was quick to answer the door and Michele heard some familiar male voices greet her.

            “Goodness!” Debbie exclaimed. “Mimi!”

            Michele sighed and went to the door and gasped. Alex Tanguay, Danny and Mike Keane were standing on the porch, each one of them grinning ear to ear.

            “Hey Michele,” Alex said. “Hope we’re not bothering you.”

            “Yeah, it’s all Tangers’ fault,” Danny said with an earnest nod of his head, “He couldn’t shut up all through practice today about your sugar pies and how you bake ‘em on Thursday morning, he got us all worked up and everything.”

            Debbie laughed and Michele dropped her face into her palms.

            “Hey we’re young men with appetites!” Tanguay said in a self-important voice.

            Michele peeked up from her fingers and looked straight into Mike’s laughing blue eyes. “And what’s your excuse?”

            Keane raised his eyebrows. “I’m an old man with an appetite.”

            Michele rolled her eyes and she slapped Alex’s bottom as they filed into the house with stomping, jaunty steps. “Get into the kitchen, they’re still warm. I hope you all get fat and can’t skate tonight!”

            She looked helplessly at Debbie. “I don’t know what’s going on today!”

            Debbie grinned and shook her head. “Boys, boys, boys,” she muttered. “What’s a Mimi to do?”

            “Oh hush up!” Michele snapped.

            Debbie only laughed and hugged her, Michele laughed as well when she felt Debbie’s friendly kiss on her cheek.