Chapter 165: Mimi XXI

Chapter 165: Mimi XXI—You’ve Never Done That Before

 

           

            What a sweet boy.

            Michele hadn’t known exactly what she had been looking for when she found him. The moment she had seen him, however, she felt the need for him. Sleepy eyed, slim, precious little man. She needed him instantly and as young as he was, it was too simple.

            “Oooo!” Jana cooed as the little girl was rooting through her purse. “Candy! Mommy can I?”

            Michele felt a zing through her chest and she took the purse out of Jana’s lap. “No baby, no you can’t have that.”

            Jana’s face crumpled and the little girl frowned. “Why not? I want some candy please!”

            “Non,” Michele said curtly. “No you wouldn’t like it.”

            Jana’s little chin jut in a pout that was so reminiscent of her father’s that Michele felt annoyed and softened at the same time. “Why not?” Jana peeped. “I like candy!”

            Michele leaned forward and whispered into her daughter’s ear. “It tastes like coffee.”

            “Ewwww!” Jana squealed. “Yucky. Yucky. Why would you have candy like that Mommy?”

            Michele smiled. “Because that’s what grown ups like I suppose, yes?”

            Jana shook her head, her face was still crumpled. “Grown ups are weird, Mommy.”

            “Yes we are,” Michele sighed. The boy was looking at her. She could tell. He was fumbling the puck every time he was behind the net and she could just see the gaze of his droopy, calf-like eyes. He was having a better game than she thought he would have. She was a little impressed.

            “I’m not gonna be weird when I grow up,” Jana declared as she tugged a red licorice whip in between her teeth. She jerked it so hard that the whip snapped and the little girl squealed as she fell back into her seat and then slid off it and onto the floor. Michele leaned forward and looked at Jana as the little girl shook her head, sending strands of blond hair out of her braid. She then looked up at her with wide, blue eyes.

            “Don’t get your pants dirty,” Michele said calmly as Jana stood up.

            “It’s the seeeeat!” Jana exclaimed. “It’s too loose.”

            The little girl wrinkled her nose and kicked at the bottom of the seat. “Yah!” she snapped and then she gripped the edge of the seat and started jumping up and down. To be honest, Michele couldn’t figure out what Jana was doing, but she couldn’t stop watching her.

            “See Mommy, too loose!” Jana gasped and then she slipped again and fell onto her butt.

            Michele laughed and leaned forward. “Get back in your seat.”

            Jana shook her head. “I don’t wanna.”

            Michele frowned. Before she could say anything, there was a loud gasp from the audience. Zinging like a bullet, a puck fell from the air and smacked against the edge of Jana’s empty seat and then rolled into the little girl’s lap. Jana’s eyes widened and she picked the puck up in her hand, her little fingers wiping at the wet shavings of ice on the disk. “Woah!” she gasped. “That’s cool.”

            Michele could only feel horrified as she saw the scraped paint on the seat where the puck had hit it. She glanced up at the billowing netting above the glass and she looked at a man sitting behind her. “Where did that puck come from?” she gasped.

            The man shook his head. “It was weird it came over the glass and hit something over there,” he pointed, “and then it bounced all the way over here. Sheezers, it’s a good thing your daughter wasn’t sitting there.”

            Michele sighed and looked back at Jana who was standing back up and blowing on the puck. “See Mommy,” she said still looking at her puck, “I didn’t wanna.”

            Michele rolled her eyes.

            Jana held the puck out at arm’s length, squinting at it and then she crawled onto her seat and leaned over the back of it. “Here you go,” she said, holding the puck out to a little boy. “You can have it.”

            Michele’s heart swelled with pride as the boy cracked a huge smile. “Woah, thanks!” he exclaimed and he eagerly took the puck from her.

            “It’s still wet from the ice,” Jana said.

            “You’re a sweet girl,” the boy’s mother said. The woman then met Michele’s eyes. “What a wonderful mother you must be.”

            Michele could only manage a weak smile and she looked back at the ice only to see the boy-goalie looking, no gazing at her through the glass. She closed her eyes and whispered to himself. “No I’m not.”

           

            Patrick was silent with her. He had hugged the children and talked a little with Jonathan. The boys had watched the game in the video room and it looked as if they had spent some time in the locker room as well. It was good for them, to feel a kinship with their father’s team.

            It was a tough game to be certain. Patrick had given up three goals in the first period and another one in the third, so of course she couldn’t expect that he would be that overjoyed with his performance. Still, he seemed cheerful enough with the children, but he hadn’t said a word to her.

            The children dropped off to sleep, one by one in the car on the way home. Patrick didn’t say a thing and his silence became thick and she could feel a heat in it. She hadn’t felt a silence like that from him, since… well in a while. She could have said something to him in the car, but she found herself to afraid to.

            “What is it?” she asked him finally as she held the bed covers back for him after the children were tucked in.

            Patrick was looking at her and his arms were crossed over his bare chest. “Why?” he asked. “What was that for? So the entire team could laugh at me?”

            Michele wrinkled her nose. “Debbie?” she exclaimed. “Don’t tell me you’re blowing a little trick like that out of proportion, you’re being ridiculous.”

            There it was again. His eyes a blank, dull sheet of ice and he circled the bed looking at her. It was a hunter’s eyes. She refused to cower as she sat up straight and stared back at him. He sat on her side of the bed and slouched forward running his hands over his face. “The boy,” he said in a low voice. “The boy. The entire team was laughing about it through the game, and I’m sure everyone else will be sooner or later. What were you thinking? Where was your discretion! You’ve never done that before.”

            “Done what before?” Michele asked. “Patrick don’t act like a jealous….”

            “It has nothing to do with jealousy,” Patrick snapped looking at her with sparking eyes. “It has everything to do with recklessness. You don’t think the entire league will know about this within the week? How does that reflect on us? You’ve never done something that reckless before, where, where it was so obvious!”

            A boy as soft as pudding. A boy sparkling fresh like frost on a window pane. No Michele would not apologize for something like that. She had enjoyed him and she knew Patrick would never pass up an opportunity like that… perhaps especially with a boy like that.

            “Just pass it off as a rumor,” Michele said with a flick of her wrist. “We are not new to such things. Is not so bad yes?”

            Patrick took a deep breath. She could see his body expand with it and then he slowly let it out. He still wasn’t looking at her. No, it wasn’t guilt she was feeling. She refused to feel it. Why should she feel it?

            “Oh stop it,” she said as calmly as she could, annoyed with him. “Stop sulking. I am in no mood.”

            Patrick looked at her. “Was it because you were jealous of Debbie?”

            Michele frowned. “Pardon?”

            “You didn’t get enough attention in that locker room so you had to go and do that?” Patrick said his voice deep with an edge.

            Michele narrowed her eyes, feeling an anger twisting in her breast. “Debbie had nothing at all to do with it. I saw the boy, I took him. And if you’re jealous of a boy, then..”

            “No I’m humiliated!” Patrick snapped. “That’s all.”

            Michele jumped off the bed, standing in front of him on the carpet. She wanted to scream at him but she couldn’t wake the children. “What do you know about real humiliation eh?” she hissed. “Don’t you talk to me about being embarrassed when…”

            “If you’re referring to what I think you are,” Patrick said slowly, “From what I hear, you didn’t mind it at all.”

            Michele saw his eyes as soon as the words left his mouth. She saw that melting into regret but that couldn’t ever change the fact that he’d said that. The pain sliced through her abdomen, through her joints, through her breast.

            “I’m sorry,” Patrick said quietly.

            Her cheeks were burning and she put her strength into slapping him. Her palm hit his face and she could see the reddening patch already beginning. Patrick’s reaction was immediate and although she didn’t see it, she felt the side of his hand on her cheek, she felt the force behind it, she felt no pain, but she found herself on the ground. She looked up at him in shock, pressing her hand to her cheek and watched him as he was at her side on the carpet. He was talking to her in a rapid voice and his arms were around her.

            “You’ve never done that before,” Michele finally said, “Patrick you’ve hit me.”

            “No, no, no,” Patrick said and she could hear the helplessness in her voice. That damned boyish whine that always won her over. “No I didn’t I just… I didn’t even touch you that hard.”

            It was already twisting in her mind. She didn’t really know what to think. He had pushed her perhaps. Pressed his hand against her cheek and shoved her down. She felt no sting on her cheek, no numbness no indication that there had been any actual violence done to her. She supposed that he hadn’t hit her, but she didn’t care.

            “You son of a bitch!” Michele snarled scrambling out of his arms. “You hit me! I can’t believe you hit me. How dare you touch me like that!”

            “Michele,” Patrick said, with wide, blue eyes, “You’re overreacting I didn’t hit you, I shouldn’t have done it but I shoved you.”

            Michele balled her fists. “I can’t believe you hit me!” she snapped.

            By this time Gigi had jumped off the bed and the puppy was running around her feet, barking and wagging her tail.

            “Mimi,” Patrick said in an irritated voice. Gigi snarled at him, barking loudly. “Shut-up,” he yelled at the puppy.

            “Don’t pick on her,” Michele said as she picked up the puppy. She glanced at the bed and grabbed her pillow, hugging that to her body.

            “Where are you going?” Patrick asked.

            “Out of here,” Michele replied. “I don’t care what you do.”

            “What?” Patrick exclaimed. “Don’t be a…”

            Michele didn’t listen as she stormed out of the room and as she entered the hallway she heard the unmistakable sound of some helpless piece of furniture being broken.

            She was surprised to see Jonathan awake and on the computer when she entered his room. The boy pushed away from the screen on his chair. “Mom?” he asked.

            Michele frowned. “What are you doing on the computer?”

            Jonathan shrugged. “Chatting with Elena, I’m sorry.”

            Michele shook her head. “Is fine, is fine. You don’t have school tomorrow.”

            She sat down on his bed and closed her eyes, feeling Gigi wiggle out of her arms and run across the mattress. She sighed and rolled under the blanket.

            “What’s going on?” Jonathan asked.

            “I don’t like your father right now,” Michele said with a yawn. “Continue chatting.”

            Michele was barely asleep listening to the sound of Jonathan’s fingers clicking on the keyboard and then she heard him turn it off. Gigi whined and moved over her body as the boy crawled into bed and Michele turned around and hugged him.

            “Is it gonna be OK?” Jonathan whispered.

            Michele kissed him, “I’m sure it will be.”