It’s called the crayola colorcycle program! As on its FAQ, they mention the following:
“Crayola ColorCycle will accept all brands of plastic markers, not just Crayola markers. That includes dry erase markers and highlighters! ColorCycle will eliminate placing hundreds of tons of markers into landfills.”
There do seem to be some limits, however, as far as I can tell, anyone can ship in a box of markers. “Any sturdy cardboard box with minimal outer markings will work. The more markers you ship, the more efficient this program will be. We suggest a minimum of 100 markers and a maximum of up to 40 pounds.”
This is a really good idea, especially if you are trying to find an economic friendly way to get markers or crayons out of your abode without throwing them in the trash
Why do people think they hate each other?! Is there any substantial evidence of that?
They’ve just never had any *captured* cuddly moments for evidence and PR to spread around. They feel kinda distant. Even with picture of the wags she seems quiet and self contained. I feel like most girls flail all over their boyfriend/husband and she does not.
Notes: I didn’t use a specific roster, several years of players are intertwined. Because some I like and some I don’t like as much.
Exceptionally fortunate I grew up in a beautiful house on Chicago’s North Shore. My dad supported our home teams even through drafts, trades and losses. His aggressive love for all sports was passed to me and my sisters. He was well connected and had tickets to any game at the drop of a hat. All he had to do was call a friend or send an e-mail. The scores dictated what we did as a family. If the teams were doing well he would pull us out of school to travel. We went everywhere and we knew everybody from LA to Toronto.
I was starting my first year at De Paul University with my sisters. It was well into October by the time I caught up with the hardships of being a freshman. My dad’s good friend and the owner of the Blackhawks Rocky, met us before the game. “Where you been Megan, pick another city to root for?”
“She started school with us. Give her a break, she’s been busy.” My sister Laura answered for me.
“Besides if I picked another team I could never show my face in this town again.” I shook my head.
“Dad wouldn’t let you in the house.” Our sister Shelby took my arm, “Let’s get fries, they’re going to start letting people in soon.”
I sat just behind the glass pulling at my jersey due to the intense competition. We all wore our last name with the year we were born, Laura and Shelby matched because they were twins. The enticing win made our decision to stay later than usual. After showing the Stars of the Game and highlights and we waited by the private entry for our dad to pick us up.
“I didn’t know Rocky had daughters.” Patrick Kane dropped his bag in front of us.
“He doesn’t.” I said annoyed.
“I should have known. Because you three are much more attractive than anything he could produce.” He scribbled on a piece of paper, “Here’s my number.” He folded it crisply and handed it to me, “There’s a party at Jon’s tomorrow. Ten o’clock. Don’t bring that guy you were sitting with.”
“That guy was our dad.” I crumpled it in front of him and spoke with spite, “God, you’re putrid. Just because you’re an athlete doesn’t mean I’m going to rip my clothes off and beg you to take me.”
“I didn’t ask you to.” Displeased he left quickly.
Shelby frowned, “Jeeze Megan. You don’t have to be that nasty.”
“Actually, I think that sounded like fun.” Laura sighed. “But since Megan doesn’t want to…”
“Fine I’ll go.” I threw my head back dramatically, “Don’t tell dad. I promised I wouldn’t party this year.”
Brent Seabrook passed by us. I took the opportunity to ask him, “Hey, Jon’s party tomorrow, I know it’s at ten but nobody told us where.”
“Nice try girls.” He thought we were fibbing.
“Kane invited us.” I showed him the crumpled note.
“You know where the Christmas Market is? Two blocks south, take a left. The building is called Northbrook Preserve. Floor thirty eight.”
“He has an entire floor?” Laura asked.
“Yeah, it’s a pretty big apartment.” He said slowly. I could tell he was contemplating that he shouldn’t have told us.
Decked in our finest we followed the directions. I was talking to Laura when Corey Crawford interrupted, “Are you the one that was mean to Kaner?”
Shelby nodded, “She was rude and callous.”
Corey called out and pointed to me, “Guys, this is her. I knew it”
Later on I tapped Patrick’s shoulder. He turned, “Funny seeing you here.”
“I’m really sorry about yesterday. That was awful.” He didn’t respond. “Okay, so I was a total fucking bitch for no reason.”
“At least you admitted it.” He and his friends laughed. “But it’s cool. No problem.”
Corey was laughing so hard he was leaning on the table, “Nick Reddinger’s daughter turned you down.”
“You’re Nick’s kid?” Jon asked.
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
Alex DeBrincat looked into his cup, “It depends who you ask.”
“Rocky made us swear we would leave you three alone.” Jon explained.
“My dad would kick my ass too. He and Rocky told us to keep clear of you guys too.”
Laura was behind me, “But wouldn’t it be great if you went for it? We could actually live a little if you took the spotlight.”
“That would paradoxical. Dad would pull us out of school and then lock me in my room until I’m thirty.” I shook my head.
“He’s that strict?” Hossa asked.
I asked him directly, “If you had a daughter, would you want her messing around with dudes like you?”
“Fuck no. Your dad has the right idea.”
The average temperature hung in the teens to twenties. But Sunday night meant it was time to watch the Bears. I froze on the fifty yard line. “Snow has literally encased my entire body. I’ll bet my fingers are blue inside my mittens.”
“We can’t be inside for every sport. Basketball is inside. Hockey is inside.” Laura’s teeth chattered, contradicting her speech.
“The Cubs play outside but it’s nice during summer.” I huffed into my scarf to warm my face. “Dad, can I go? I’m going to die of hypothermia.”
“Are you kidding me, sacked on fourth down?” He scowled at the players, “Yes fine. They’re getting their asses handed to them anyway. You’re coming to the next one for sure.”
So thankful, I let the car’s vents blast warm air. Driving past Madison Street I saw the Hawks game was about to start. I parked in my father’s reserved spot in the team’s lot and hurried in. Not wearing my traditional gear, in an orange and blue jersey, I stopped by the merchandise counter to score red attire. I was the only one in our stretch of five reserved seats. Rocky messaged me, “Where’s the fam?”
I sent back, “Snow storm at Soldier Field. Wimped out.”
He wrote, “Nothing wimpy about a superior sport.” I knew he didn’t care for American football, citing it didn’t require more than ten seconds of skill at a time. For hockey you had to move constantly and keep track of every person around you, plus the small puck.
They lost in overtime. I was reaching for my keys to start my car with the remote. “You got a hard on for Towes?” Bryan Bickell asked.
“Girls always go after Cap’n Jon.” Kris Versteeg smiled smugly.
I pulled off the shirt to be sure I heard him right, showing my orange and blue one beneath. Corey and Brent were coming down the hall witnessing the scenario. They laughed, “Do you wear always layer your jerseys?”
“I was at the Bears game with my dad. It’s freezing so I came here but I didn’t want to wear a football jersey so I quick grabbed one before I sat down. I didn’t think to look at the name.”
“Good pick by chance.” Jon was looking at his phone.
Alex walked by and spoke in an airy voice, “Maybe she’s in love.”
Brent started singing, “Jon and Megan sittin’ in a tree.”
More players came down the hall. Bryan gathered them around, “You know, we could have a Mean Joe Greene moment right now.” They opened their duffel bags.
I backed into the wall, “No!” Ten sweaty, sloppy jerseys landed at my feet. I was repulsed.
“Now you have a better selection for the next game.” Sharpie messed up my hair and walked out.
“If you really want to piss them off, wear it again.” Jon offered a hand as I jumped over the mess. “I’m having some people over again this weekend if you’re interested.”
“Sure, but I think I’ll leave my sisters at home. Don’t mention it if you happen to see us before then.”
Our family also came to the Tuesday game. In the front row I took off my Canada Goose jacket showing my Toews jersey. Chalking up 4-2 win against Nashville, Duncan Keith joined me walking out. “Wearing nineteen again?”
“Only because [i]I am[/i] nineteen. As of October eighth.” I smiled taking out my keys and dangled them. “Do you need a ride? I have a brand new BMW.” I sang.
He took out his keys replying in the same light voice, “Land Rover.”
I was off the hook explaining where I was, my dad had a cold and was in bed trying to recuperate. On Saturday I got ready at my dorm. With a grey sweatshirt, black leggings and Ugg boots I was pulling for the lazy winter look.
It was another great night, made better that I wasn’t policed by my sisters. The following morning I woke to pounding on the door. My hands were in my sweatshirt pocket and I was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, lying on Jon’s couch. “Megan I know you’re in there.” The pounding continued, “Dad’s been looking for you for hours.” I opened the door, it was Laura. She took my jacket and my purse, “He knows something’s up.”
She brought me home, not having time to yell at me herself. I walked in with messy hair and smeared make up. “Megan, why would you do this to me? To yourself?”
I wiped my scummy eyes, “I went to Jon’s and ended up falling asleep. I didn’t mean to.”
He frowned. “Do you mean Jonathan Toews? For what?”
I murmured, “A party.”
“A party?” He asked in disbelief, “I warned you so many times, stay away from these guys. They’re not interested in anything young ladies have to offer.”
I corrected him, “You also said they’re nice boys-”
“They are nice boys. When they’re not thinking with their cocks. Which they usually are.”
I spoke cautiously, “I fell asleep on his couch. I admit I shouldn’t have gone but I wasn’t drinking and I kept my clothes on.”
He shook his head, “Why don’t you understand I want you to watch from afar? Do not develop relationships, don’t bond. These guys get traded and dropped. And they also get married to other women. I don’t want you to get your heart broken.”
I nodded, “You’re right.” He and my mother looked relieved. I took a deep breath, “I won’t go again.”
Except I did. A lot. My life went from being all about sports, school and my family to being all about Jon’s team. By the end of February I’d been to almost all of their houses, I knew all of their middle names, former teams, what kind of cars they drove and their hometowns. It was exhausting coming up with excuses why I wasn’t at our usual events or staying up until three in the morning to go to class for eight but it was worth it.
At Jon’s again I did a bad shot and went into the kitchen to catch my breath. Curious, I poked around in the pantry looking at his health foods and protein mixes. “Spying?”
“The shit Alex mixed up made me kind of sick. I had to take a breather.”
He left the door slightly open and sat on the floor. “It is kind of nice in here.”
I helped myself to a bottle of water and tossed him one. He caught it despite my terrible aim. “You’ve got serious technique.”
“Yeah, a lot of girls say that.” He flexed.
I sat beside him, “Oh? Tell me, when was your last one night stand?”
“Never.” He shook his head, “I’ve never slept with a girl and not talked to her again. I think that’s really shitty that some of my friends do. What about you?”
“Never.” I shook my head. “Ever.”
“You’re a Reddinger and you haven’t porked anybody?”
“Not even a peck.” I stuck out my lips to accentuate my point, he touched his them with his. I was blown back.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I thought I would be funny.” He apologized profusely. I touched them as they tingled. “It was spur of the momen-”
I pressed to him again. On impulse I moved so I was sitting on his lap. He hesitantly put his hand on my back. I adjusted my angle and moved with him as he sat up straight. I grazed my teeth on his lower lip, then let my forehead rest on his shoulder. “There’s no way that was your first.”
“I have two older sisters. They’ve told me a lot.”
The pantry became our go to. At any house, we’d casually disappear and spend an hour together. We evolved from affectionate innocence to barely being able to contain ourselves, panting with hands beneath clothing. At Corey’s place I excused myself, Jon simply followed. He had his hand on my breast and my fingers were laced through his hair. Before we could separate the door opened. “Holy shit,” Brandon Saad stood with Adam Burish. “Nobody’s gonna believe this.”
I quickly pushed Jon away and ran down the hall leaving my coat behind, unbelievably embarrassed we were caught. My legs shook after racing down twenty flights of stairs. I heard him asking me to stop, he too trudged down. I skipped every few hoping to lose him. Cars raced by as I began to cry, my face was hot and I didn’t know where I was going but I was moving quickly. I dodged the oncoming foot traffic. He was persistent and caught my arm halfway down the next street.
“Megan, I’m sorry. They won’t tell anybody.”
“I should have never started hanging out with you or kissed you.” I choked as I spoke in short segments, “My dad’s going to find out and kill me. And my mom’s going to think I’m a tramp. And so is your team. Now I’m the laughing stock.”
He pulled me into his chest and covered me from the snow, “Let me bring you home.”
“If I go to my dad’s he’ll see you and if I go to my dorm all of my friends will ask why I was crying.”
“Do you want to come to my place?” He was cautious.
I nodded, not finding any other plausible choice. I wandered the long hall that separated the gathering rooms from the bedrooms. I looked through his dresser for a set of comfortable clothes and changed leaving my sparkly shirt on the floor. I got under the covers and was near asleep when he came in. He tenderly caressed my cheek.
“You can stay.” I sat up, “Unless you don’t want to.”
He was warm. I pressed into him as I shivered both from nerves and from the temperature.
Thinking he was still asleep the next morning I collected my clothes. He turned over, “Shouldn’t we talk before you go?”
I folded his pajamas and put them at the foot of the bed, “Do you want to call this off? The last couple of weeks were great but,” I thought of his point of view, “We’re at totally different places. And we’re very different people.”
“I was kind of thinking that if you hung around more, not only at parties, we could really have some fun.”
I thought about the consequences I’d face if I told my family, but I also thought about what would happen if I held it in any longer. I leaned against his footboard putting my shoes on, “What did you have in mind?”
“Tell Nick and your family. I’d tell Rocky and the guys. And we wouldn’t have to hide in the kitchen anymore.” He laughed.
“What would happen if they found out on their own? Maybe let them discover by observation.”
“No, it’s important to let them know. I want your dad to be okay with this because if he’s not, I’m not going to rub it in his face.”
Ready to confront them, I showered at my dorm then went home. “Hey dad, mom, can I talk to you?” The three of us met in the dining room. “I’ve sort of been seeing Jon Toews. And I’ve been going to parties with him. Almost every week since my birthday.”
My dad was calm, “I know.”
“You know?”
He picked up the remote he accidentally brought up with him, “Of course. I know that you got caught with him in the pantry and that you were at his apartment last night.”
“Who, who told you?” I struggled to ask.
My mother tapped her fingers on the table, “Those boys gossip worse than old maids.”
“Anything else? Can I get back to my movie?” My father stood. He asked sarcastically, “You’re not pregnant, are you?”
“No, I haven’t, no, not ever, not yet.” Again, I couldn’t speak.
“Keep it that way and I won’t wring you. Jon is a good person, I like him.”
My dad left but my mom remained at the table, “Not yet?”
“No. I couldn’t. I’ve only really known him for a couple of weeks.”
Shelby took out a carton of ice cream, “Did you think he wouldn’t notice that you haven’t been at any of our usual stuff? And dad has his way of extracting information.”
Laura opened a bottle of chocolate syrup, “He could get a handful of coins to talk if he tried hard enough.”
I packed my books that were on the table, “I have class this afternoon. I’ll see you at the Bulls game on Friday.”
“Unless you’re at Jon’s.” My mother comedically patronized me.
On my way to school I called him with the surprising news. “They knew and they’re okay with it. I can’t believe it.” I pulled my hair into a pony tail. “Even that I was at your place last night.”
“I think most of them overheard yesterday. Somebody must have let it slip in front of Rocky, who then told your dad.”
“I guess it was the best way, letting it go up the chain of command.”
I heard his door shut and the elevator buzz, “Do you want to get dinner tonight? I haven’t been to Shear’s in a while.” It was one of the most expensive places in Chicago. A steak alone was almost a hundred dollars. Each glass of wine was about the same.
“We’ll work our way up to that. Want to get a pizza and make out instead? That seems more like a date I’d go for.”
We had one delivered but we didn’t open the box. From the moment I crossed the doorway his hands were on me. He worked my shirt off and was unbuttoning my jeans. I pushed his hand away, “Not yet.” He gave a soft smile with a sigh, continuing at my neck and chest.
The same scenario played for two weeks.
Heavy kissing for the better part of twenty minutes, he still didn’t go for my skirt. Rewarding him I pulled on the zipper and let it fall to the ground. His hands ran up my thighs, stopping at the only piece of cloth separating us. He looked at me with pleading eyes. I bit my lip and shoved him back, “One step at a time.”
He was familiar with taking off my clothes but made sure he lingered to ask permission. Tonight was the night I’d let him undress me completely. I didn’t bother wearing panties. His hands went up my dress, his eyes bulged as he felt the lack of fabric.
He unzipped the back and helped me pull it off. He couldn’t hide the substantial swell in his boxers. I slipped my hands in the front. To my touch he took a deep breath and stiffened. I moved slowly stroking the length of his shaft. Attempting to follow Laura’s advice I used my entire palm, then switched to only the pads of my fingertips in long soft strokes.
In the next weeks I became very skilled with him but always pushed him away when his hands came too far up my thighs. We lay in his bed with the blanket over us, “Megan, I can’t tell you how much I love it when you touch me. But are you ever going to let me touch you?” I didn’t answer and further communicated I wouldn’t be by turning away from him. “You must be wet when you’re done.” He slowly kissed my shoulder, my collar and up my cheek, “Let me do it. One time and you’ll see. It’s like your body is doused in cold flames. You’re blinded by sheer joy.” His lips were right by my ear, he bit the lobe softly. He slowly traveled to a territory I’d closed him out of so many times. “I know it’s hard to let somebody else do it. But you’ll never want to stop. I mean, I never want to.”
I moved out of the bed quickly to dress but contemplated his explanation, “Thursday you have your shot. Don’t mess it up.”
“I’m in Denver.” He groaned. “Wednesday until Friday.”
“I’m going to the Patriots game this weekend. We fly out Friday night.” I pulled on my pants and sweatshirt, “Tuesday I’m yours.”
I was nervous but didn’t dare mention anything to my sisters or roommates. I waited to go to his place until ten o’clock. He picked me up and carried me through the house. He tossed me his bed which was covered in rose petals and a single candle was lit on the dresser. I unbuttoned my jeans. He took my hand, “Hold on, we’ve got to do this the right way.”
“Do you want to go first?”
“No, tonight is about you.” He put his lips to mine. “I don’t want you to be nervous.”
“I already am. What if I don’t do it right?”
“You’re nervous you won’t have an orgasm right? I don’t think that’s possible.”
He let down my ponytail. He graced the hem of my shirt and pulled upward. He ran his hand up my flank, the other fixed on my hip. “Lay back.”
His lips went up my belly and slowed between my breasts. Unhooking my bra, he tossed it to the side. He massaged my hips. As snug as they were he pulled my jeans down inch by inch. He removed his pants and boxers. He hooked his thumb on the delicate lace of my panties and his hands skimmed my inner thighs on the way down. With the fabric barely past my knees I shoved him back, “Stop, stop.” I pushed him further and crawled away from, “I changed my mind. I don’t want to yet.”
He covered me with the quilt. “That’s fine.” He was breathing heavily, “Its fine.”
“You were really excited, weren’t you?”
He took a separate blanket, “But you weren’t. I’m glad you told me.”
We were surprisingly unscathed by my lack of confidence but he continued to push me to new boundaries. Walking out of the dressing room he kissed me in front of his teammates, in front of Rocky and in front of my family. He sent me flowers on Valentine’s Day, the card with a simple heart. What was really groundbreaking was him posting a photo of us on his Instagram, which he openly tagged my username.
I was at home with Laura and Shelby. When I was sure my parents were gone I consulted with them. “Can I ask you guys a serious question?” They looked to me with curiosity, “How was… your, your uh, first time.”
“Why, are you thinking about having sex with Jon?” Laura asked.
“I’m just so nervous. He seems to want it so bad. For me too, not only for him.” I twitched, “We almost did, we were so close, but I told him no.”
“You should be nervous. It’s a milestone in a relationship.” Shelby was supportive, “I’m glad he’s enough of a man to wait for you.”
“It was really cute. He had flower petals and he even had a candle. He tried really hard.”
“How old is this guy? Sounds like he knows what he’s doing.” Laura asked.
“His birthday is in April, so almost twenty-seven.” I blushed.
“He’s eight older than you?” Laura was surprised.
“Ben is four years older than me. And we’re only two years older than you.” Shelby added, “So it seems like a bigger age gap when you’re not even twenty.”
My knee bounced, “That’s partially what I’m afraid of. He’s got to have way more experience, way more expectation that I’m not going to live up to. I’ve,” I motioned to replicate a hand job, “A couple of times.”
Laura smiled. “You’ve been asking about a lot of details, more than to qualify for a couple.”
“Okay, like ten.” I admitted.
Laura shook her head, “Or fifty.”
Shelby sat up straight, “Megan, when you’re with somebody in the sheets it doesn’t matter what you’ve already done or haven’t done. You don’t know how it feels yet but it’s,” She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, peacefully, “It’s not only great for the peak. It’s all of the parts before and after, too. You’re so attracted to the person with you. And they want you to feel that way. It makes you happy when,” She paused again, “When he goes. He’ll be happy to do the same.”
The next week when Jon returned from Calgary I asked him to go to dinner. I styled my hair and wore a tight black cocktail dress, knowing he would be planning on going somewhere ritzy. Beneath I had on a set of bright red lingerie, it was so thin it was nearly transparent. I expected it would drive him crazy.
He picked me up at my parent’s house. I hid my scant amount of clothing with a trench coat. It fell open as I buckled the tall heels that accentuated my calves. “Woah, where are you going?” Laura caught me as I was leaving.
“To dinner with Jon. Don’t wait up.” I winked to her.
I was excited to see him for many reasons. He always looked nice when he was spruced up in a suit and freshly shaven. “I missed you.” I kissed his cheek, “You look handsome.”
“You look,” He helped me into his car. “I can’t even say what I’m thinking right now. Or you’d slap me.”
While he was navigating through traffic I looked to him, “I promise I won’t slap you. Tell me.”
He shifted in his seat, “I want to rip your dress off to see what’s underneath. And take you back to my place.”
“And do what?” I pressed.
“And…” He exhaled, “You know.”
“Say it, Jon.”
“I really want to fuck you.” He sighed thinking I would be upset.
“Okay. Let’s do that instead.” I hoped he didn’t think I was playing him.
“Right now?”
“Unless you want to wait until after dinner.”
He cut over to the next exit and barely obeyed the traffic signals. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other in the elevator. He worked quickly. Suddenly I was on his bed, there wasn’t much for him to take off. His hands tracked the band on my bra. “I thought you’d like these. I got them just for you.”
He unlatched it and let it fall. “I do, a lot.” He looked to my panties, “Are these for me too?”
I nodded and he started pulling them down. He slowed where I previously stopped him. “You can keep going.” I assured him. “I’m okay, I swear.”
They too landed on his floor. He opened the drawer of the table beside his bed. Pulling out a shiny black wrapper he tore it open. I took it from him and slowly rolled it up his stiff penis. He let out a primal moan as I took extra time to excite him. I knew what came next, now enthusiastic I laid back and he followed. My soft legs brushed against his, I inhaled deeply relishing in his presence. He was pushing my legs apart, “Tell me if you want me to stop.”
I shook my head now anticipating the flames and the exhilaration I was promised. He hardly had the tip in and was struggling. I rolled my shoulders back to give him better access. There was a sharp sensation, I cringed and slowly exhaled. He pulled back, “The first time can be painful. It gets better once it’s all in.”
“How many girls have you instructed through this?” I adjusted again, “You seem like you’ve coached a class.”
He formed a smile, “Welcome to the Toews seminar. Tonight you’ll be learning how to take it in missionary.”
The sharp feeling returned as he worked his way in. I squeezed his hand as he continued to lower himself, stretching me intensely. He was close to the truth. It was still tender but after he found his stride the stinging dissolved. I let go of his hand and draped my arms around his shoulders. I began to move with him and sprang upward as he hit a sensitive spot. Satisfied he continued and was speeding up. It didn’t take long for me to go, as I was his apprentice and he wanted me to have it right away.
I struggled for a breath as his boundless pace continued. It was a shocking and overpowering feeling, all senses filled with elation. I could feel him inside me, still striking the same wonderful bit. He wouldn’t stop, I panted and my abdomen tightened further. It was freeing, “Jon,” I tried to tell him I loved it but only his name would form.
I could tell it did him well to hear it in that fashion. His orchestrated movement became disjointed as he moaned into my neck and became limp. It was short lived but I didn’t think I could take much more that same night. I breathed deeply trying to let the event sink in. He was beside me and kept running his hands through my hair, “Was I right?”
I shyly admitted it, “Yes, definitely.” Fatigued, I fell asleep quickly.
In the morning I woke alone. I heard the shower turn off. I fondly recalled the previous night. Pulling the sheet around me it lagged behind as I followed the scattered trail of clothes, picking them up as I went. My panties, his boxers, socks and pants, my bra. Moving to the hall I found his belt and shirt, my dress, his tie, my heels, his shoes and my purse. I put them in separate piles in his bedroom.
I peeked into the bathroom. He had a towel at his waist and was turned around brushing his teeth. He saw my reflection in the mirror. I pushed open the door and blushed when he asked, “You want to go again, don’t you?” Trying to fight a smile I bit my lip. With assurance I dropped the sheet, he matched by dropping his towel.
We couldn’t get enough. If I wasn’t in class I was in his bed. He was taking off my shirt when my phone rang, “Leave it.” He instructed unbuttoning my jeans.
I leaned over, “It’s Shelby.”
He blocked my outreaching arm and directed my face back to him, “You’re busy.”
I had to fight him off, “I haven’t talked to her for three days. I think it’s a record.”
He continued to pull at my pants; they were down to my knees when I answered. “Where have you been? I was about to put up out a missing child alert. I haven’t seen you since spring break.”
“I’ve been with Jon.” I stepped out of them.
“Correction, you’ve been under me.” He interrupted still pulling at my clothes.
“Sit.” I whispered hastily pushing him on the couch. I took a seat on the far side and turned away from him. I gave her the same answer twice, “I’ve been with Jon.”
“Under Jon.” He said again.
“Where have you been?” I asked with interest, “Laura said you’re thinking about moving out of the dorms.”
“Yeah, I’ve been searching for apartments.” Shelby went on but I couldn’t hear her. He crawled over and was unhooking my bra. I stood and pulled it back to cover the best it could.
“Leave that alone. I only need a minute and then you can have me all night.” I didn’t realize I said it into the receiver.
“What?” Shelby laughed in disbelief. “Are you doing what I think you are?”
I pushed Jon back again. “I’m,” I couldn’t think of an excuse. Standing behind me, he was kissing my neck. I let my head fall back as his hands went down my sides and started sliding down my panties, I sighed unintentionally, “I’m,”
“Are you with him right now?” Shelby knew exactly what was going on.
“Your minute is up, dear.” He hung up.
We were careful when Rocky or my parents were around, otherwise we were unconventionally affectionate. We regularly hung out at a prestigious club called Element. You could only get in if you were a celebrity or were with one. We could act any way we wanted there. The DJ saw our large group and recognized the team, he played Chelsea Dagger. I was getting another drink with the ladies when it started. We skipped the refill and went out to the dance floor. Jon was watching intently as I danced with Abby and Jana. I thought of the lyrics and was ready to provoke him. After this he would need no excuse to leave.
I replicated what the song portrayed, “Chelsea, I believe that when you’re dancing slowly sucking your sleeve.”
Biting the fabric on my wrist it stretched far, he obviously saw. I slowly swayed my hips to the song and looked right at him. I took his hand and we left before the song was completely finished. His friends and the other attendees chanted in his favor.
There was another match on Wednesday. Before I met my family in our seats walked with Jon to the lockers. He peeked through the door and pulled my hand, “Come here.”
Patrick Kane held up a custom jersey. It was number nineteen but the name wasn’t Toews. “Tell me your name, is it sweet?”
I put it on over my sweatshirt, “My boy it’s Dagger.”
Watching from the first row Jon was moving quickly trying to bypass the other players, three of them were right in front of the goal. Having the puck taken, Jon took a nasty fall but got up and went after it again. He had a cut on his lip didn’t pay it any mind.
“Oh no,” Laura teased, “Who are you going to kiss now?”
“I’d put my money on Corey. He’s cute.” Shelby looked to him as he lifted his mask to get a drink. “But there’s only ever been one set of lips for Megan.”
“Jon was the first boy you kissed?” My mother asked openly.
“Yes and thank you for announcing it. Thank you everybody.”
“That’s actually really cute.” Laura crossed her legs, “He was your first everything.”
My dad froze, “What?”
I turned away from him and pretended I didn’t hear Laura’s comment. They patched Jon’s lip and we watched the rest of the game in silence. Minutes left in the last period I went to wait for him by the dressing room. When it was over my family caught up with me, along with Rocky. I was looking at my phone to seem busy, hoping my dad wouldn’t talk to me.
“Do you think I didn’t hear Laura’s comment? It seems pretty clear that you’re not keeping up your end of the bargain. I told you to keep your clothes on when you’re with him.”
“Well dad, it happened. And it’s not like I was going to come up to you and go ‘Guess what? We had sex’, in case you wanted to stay informed.” I huffed wishing Jon would come out sooner so we could leave.
“Nick, this isn’t the time or place to have this type of conversation.” My mother warned.
“You’re done with him.” My dad declared ignoring her, “You’re not coming to his games, you’re certainly not going to his house. You’re staying at school and focusing on your work.”
“I have a four-oh grade point average and I’m sailing through the courses like they’re nothing,” I insisted, “You have no right to make that call.”
“I said you’re through.”
“It’s not like I can take him off the team.” Rocky intervened.
“He’s not the one I have a problem with!” My dad yelled.
My mother tried to make sense of the skyrocketing conversation. “Nick, she’s right. She has great grades and she’s always been responsible.”
“I don’t want to clean this up when it goes wrong. Look at what happened to Shelby.” He sighed.
Shelby started yelling too, “Every girl is going to have her heart broken once or twice. I got over Ben in a couple of weeks. If things go south with Jon, Megan will be fine too.”
My mom spoke again, the only one with reasonable volume, “If you forbid her to see him you know for a fact she’ll be pregnant by the end of summer. You’re going to chase her right into his arms and right into his bed.”
My dad was trying to remain calm, “Cathy, she isn’t even twenty. Jon is almost thirty. You don’t have a problem with this?”
My mom shook her head, “You’re five years older than I am.” She proved his point. “What’s a few more?”
Rocky even made a comment, “He’s got a firm foundation and he’s the best of any of them. Nick, I’m terrified of your girls, too. But they’re not going to be yours forever.”
He threw his hands up and walked out. The rest of them followed, my mother was last. “Give him some time to adjust. You’re his baby, you always have been. He wants you to be careful.” She understood how exciting it was to be nineteen, “I want you to be careful, too.”
When the door leading outside closed, the locker room door opened. There was no possibility they didn’t hear. They kept their eyes low as they passed. Last out, Jon took my hand, “What do you want to do?”
“Go to sleep and wish this didn’t happen.” I wiped another tear.
Still in my new jersey and jeans I laid in his bed. His arm was around me with my back to his chest. “I’ve never seen him that mad,” I laughed out of stress, “Even if all of his teams lost or his favorite player got traded. I feel like I should have gone home with them. Or maybe you should have left me there alone.”
“If I didn’t like you so much, I would have.” He secured his arm firmly, “He’ll calm down eventually.”
I didn’t go home for almost a month. Laura called, “Mom has been worried about you.”
“What about dad?”
“He’s,” She paused, “He’s been doing what he does best, watching sports.”
I pictured him in front of the television or in the stands at a game. “I have to go. Tell him I said hello, would you? And that I miss him.”
Jon came back from a press conference. I was still lying in bed at four o’clock. He pulled my hand, “Get up. You need to get ready.”
“Where are we going?”
He pushed me into the bathroom, “Wear something comfortable.”
For the first time in weeks I was eager. In the car we passed beautiful homes and I admired them until I recognized we were driving up my street. “Why are we at my house?”
We were greeted by my mother in her apron. “Hello Jon, it’s so nice to see you again.” She hugged him, “And hello to my little Megan.” She walked back into the kitchen.
“What the hell was that?” I asked surprised she took to him so well, like they were old friends. We walked past the dining room. The table was elaborately set, multiple glasses and plates neatly arranged.
My father was in the sitting room and I planned to keep clear however my mom guided me directly to him. “Jon arranged for us to have a civil dinner. Right Nick?” She began.
“Correct.” My dad took a drink of his mixer and leaned forward. “I don’t like being upset with you.” He looked up, “I don’t like that we haven’t spoken in weeks. But with the choices you’ve made, I guess I’ll live with them too. Because I do like Jon,” He nodded, “He’s a great athlete and he treats you with respect. From what I hear you’ve been close for some time now. I can value that,” He paused. I knew it was difficult for him to speak so I didn’t interrupt. “You’re both adults. But I expect you to act as such.” He pointed to me, “You’re going to come to more family activities,” He pointed to Jon, “And you’re going to send her home more often.”
We both nodded in agreement. He clapped, “Alright, unpleasantries are over. Let’s eat.”
They went into the dining room. I was left with Jon, “That’s it? No yelling, no shame, no crying?”
“That’s it.” He answered. “I’ve been talking with your mother, and of course she’s been working on your dad. So we arranged this dinner. And the worst is over.”
“Mom made puttanesca and mini soufflés. Come on!” Shelby yelled.
Eating dessert Jon took another sip of wine, “This is good. What is it?”
“Galardi Terra di Lavoro.” My mother looked at the label.
“My mom likes it. I thought I recognized the flavor.” He put his glass down, “Did you know that means ‘land of work’? They gave it that name because those who crushed grapes were sent home with a bottle at the end of the week.”
“Interesting, I’ve been trying to get my hands on their 1996 Cabernet. It’s impossible.”
“I have a bottle of 1990 Romanee-Conti Grand Cru. Rocky gave us each a bottle when we won the Cup in 2010.”
“I didn’t know you had a taste for wine.” I looked to Jon.
“That’s what happens when you date somebody a little older.” My mother said, directing her comment at my father.
“Yeah, well anybody younger than Megan would be in high school.” He said laughing, still disturbed by our relationship but he was coming around enough to joke about it.
Jon winced, “Nick, you’re making me feel like I’m robbing the cradle.”
My dad started laughing again, he looked to my sisters. “That saying always reminds me of the time you two kept taking Megan’s baby doll out of the little wooden crib. I bought you girls everything, and I mean everything. But you fought over that doll for years.”
“What was her name again?” Laura snapped her fingers, “Melissa or something.”
“Wasn’t it Meredith?” Jon asked.
“It was!” We all were surprised.
“You remembered that?” I was pleased. I told him the second time I met him, way back in October.
“It was the night Seabs was bitching about his kids fighting over Barbies.”
My dad stood abruptly. The phonetics must have tripped him, “I forgot, I have to talk with Mike Barber. He’s got my tickets to the Rockets game on the ninth. Bulls are taking them on in Texas.” He put his napkin on his plate.
“I thought we were going to see Oakland play at Soldier Field.” Shelby spoke up.
“You can still go but Mike got us floor seats.” He excused himself and my sisters began clearing the table.
I walked Jon to the door, “My mom freaking loves you.”
He put on his coat and took out his keys, “No, she loves you. And I make you happy. That makes her happy.”
I reached for my jacket but he stopped me, “Stay here tonight. Let them know that we didn’t come just to impress him.” He backed away without a kiss, “I’m out of town until Monday. See you next week.”
There was a fine balance between Jon, school and my family but we had respite once summer hit. I was in Jon’s bed, nude beneath the covers, waiting for him to get home from announcing the team’s choice for NHL draft. I left my purse by the door so he wouldn’t be surprised.
A woman spoke when the door opened, “What can I say? I love you.”
Lights and shadows were now visible under the door, “How long are you staying?”
“Until the fifth.”
“I don’t know if Megan is ready to meet you yet. I don’t want to scare her off by moving too fast.”
“Is she here?”
Jon lowered his voice, “Shit, I bet she’s sleeping.”
I was furious until I heard more voices. A young child shouted with excitement, “Megan is here? I love Megan. Jon said she’s nice and he might get married.”
A man spoke, “Shh, we can meet her tomorrow when we wake up.”
“We’re going to bed,” An older female voice spoke softly. “I’ll make pancakes tomorrow.”
He spoke softly, “Goodnight mom.”
There was shuffling with doors opening and closing. I heard him change. He lifted the covers, “Nice.”
“You didn’t tell me your family was going to be here!”
“You didn’t tell me you were going to be here.” He countered. “Naked.”
I put on a pair of my pajamas, now with a drawer of belongings in his room. “If you ask me, I thought it was a nice gesture.” I got back into bed and turned to him, “What was that about getting married?”
“Tracy was asking me about you when I picked them up. She said ‘Are you going to marry this girl, Jon?’ and I said maybe.”
“You want to get married?” I asked with haste.
“Like your dad doesn’t already want to stick a knife in my chest. Let’s be sure he has the opportunity.” He said sarcastically.
“I’m serious. You want to get married?”
“Not today. But maybe, yeah.”
“Married?” I asked again.
“This isn’t Sixteen Candles, Long Duk Dong.”
“What does that mean?” I asked with great confusion.
“Ugh, I forgot you haven’t seen all of the great movies yet.”
In the morning a child’s laughter and loud cartoons woke us. Jon wiped his face.
“Evan, turn that down right now.” The volume was lowered. “Come give Grandma a hug.”
“We should go out there.” He tore the covers off.
“What a way to meet them.”
“I had it planned differently but you had your own agenda.” He handed me a bathrobe. “Which I would have preferred too.”
I followed him into the kitchen that overlooked the living room. “Hey kid.” His dad was reading the newspaper.
“Morning dad.” Jon sat beside him. His brother was drinking coffee and his mother was making pancakes as promised.
He looked over his shoulder, “This is my girlfriend Megan.”
“Bryan,” His dad nodded, “Nice meeting you.”
“My brother David. And my mother Andree is making breakfast.”
“Grandma, I have an important question.” Evan jumped.
“The most important question is,” She poured the batter, “Do you want chocolate chips or strawberries?”
Jon looked to me with another smile, “Chocolate chips, duh mom.”
The little boy pulled on my hand, “Are you Megan?”
“Yes, are you Evan?”
“Yes. I love you Megan. Mom said you’re going to be Jon’s beautiful bride.”
I looked to the female on the couch and shot her a smile. Evan dragged me in front of the television where he had small cars and action figures laid out. “How old are you Evan?”
“I’m five.” He held out his fingers, “How old are you?”
I flashed my fingers twice, “I’m almost twenty.”
“Wow.” He flashed his fingers back at me before looking back at the television. “I love Sesame Street.”
I sat on the couch with the young boy’s mother, “I’m Tracy. My husband is David.”
“Megan. But it sounds like you know.”
“Sorry about that. We were talking about you and then he showed me your picture.”
Thinking I was out of ear shot Jon was talking with his brother. “What do you think you’re doing hanging around with this teenage girl? She looks like she’s fifteen.” David picked up Evan and fed him a strawberry.
“Well she’s got a twenty year old body.” Jon bragged. “If you know what I mean.”
“Tracy thinks you’re getting married.”
“No,” Jon took Evan, “But I really like her. I think she needs some time to grow before we get anywhere near that.”
Rightfully, my parents were at our house and his parents were at his house. We were getting restless due to lack of privacy and my dorm provided nothing of the sort.
I was home alone when I messaged Jon, “Can you get away for an hour?”
Soon he was scaling the stairs. I let Shelby and Laura know hoping they would decode my text, “Jon is here.”
We lay in my sheets. There were pictures of ice cream cones on my pillows. He spoke nervously, “Now I know how your dad feels.”
“What do you mean?”
His fingers brushed my hair back from my face, “Your pillowcases.” He sat up and looked around, “Your room is painted pink. You wear an extra small jersey. You haven’t seen any movies that I like, you still ask your mom and sisters for advice.” He continued, “You’re only nineteen. You graduated high school last year. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“What do you mean, Jon?” I was picking up that he was trying to say. “You swindle my parents into liking you. I date you for months. You fucked me five minutes ago, now I’m too young for you?”
He tried to save himself, “Being here, in this room, your room, I finally understand your dad’s perspective.”
I put my pants on, “What’s yours?”
“I love spending time with you,” He began, “You’re so funny and sweet, you’re smart and you’re in to sports, more than any woman I’ve ever met. I don’t think anything should change except our perception of how we think of your family. They were never trying to keep you from me, but they wanted you to stay theirs. Megan that has ice cream cones on her sheets. Not Megan that’s dating Jon.”
“Why can’t I be both?”
The hour we spent in my bedroom was vital. We ended up taking a break over the rest of the summer. I saw him at practices when I was with Rocky and dad. We messaged every once in a while, more of a friendly way to check in if anything.
At the end of September the NHL season began. I liked seeing him regularly again. On my birthday he sent flowers to my house. The vase was full and flourishing. I looked over the colorful petals watching the Los Angeles Chargers game with my sisters. “I really miss him.”
“Yeah, what happened with that?” Shelby asked.
Laura looked to me, “Did you give up on him because dad said you could date him?”
I shook my head, “It was weird. He told me I was way too young for him. Right after we had sex of course. But I really miss going places with his friends, you know, getting dressed up, waking up in his bed with him.”
Shelby looked to Laura, “You love this guy, don’t you?”
I showed up at his door. He was only in sweatpants, no shirt. “What brings you by?”
“I really miss you.” I admitted welcoming myself inside, “I thought I wouldn’t and I was even mad about what you said, but I was hoping you’d reconsider the age gap.” I nervously played with my bracelet. “Summer was so dull. I didn’t get the dorm I wanted. Shelby was abroad so we didn’t get to go to any Cubs games together. None of that has to do with you. But of all that, things really sucked without you around.”
“I haven’t been very happy either. And I couldn’t figure out why until I kept seeing you in the stands.”
Before the end of the month we reconnected. I invited him to Thanksgiving and we spent the entire weekend at my parent’s house. I paged through my enrollment listings reading my course options. He leaned against my desk, “What are you working on?”
“I have to register for class next semester. And let them know I’m staying in the dorms so they don’t give my spot away. Even though my roommate is such a bitch.”
“Why don’t you move in with me? Then you don’t have to keep stuff in three places. And you’ll be closer to school at my place than your parent’s house. And you won’t have to deal with that girl.”
I agreed and set an unrealistic benchmark, “I’ll tell you what. If you guys score eight goals tomorrow, I’ll do it. And you have to win.”
“Like Wild will beat us with nine.” He said sarcastically.
“Like you’ll score eight.” I matched him.
I sat with my family as they warmed up. “Dad, can I tell you something.”
“Please, please don’t say what I think you’re going to.”
“I’m not pregnant. And if I was I wouldn’t chose to tell you like this.” I watched Alex and Duncan square off. “Right now it would be impossible. That hasn’t happened,” I eluded to Jon’s absence, “Since like, June.”
“Alright then, lay it on me.”
“He asked me to move in with him. I told him I would if they scored eight goals and won the game.”
“That’s a slim chance.”
They did it, ending the game with a 9-4 posting. He had a smug look on his face when we exited the stadium, “Should we pack up your dorm or your room at your parent’s house first? On second thought, I’m tired from scoring so many goals. [i]We[/i] should go back to [i]our[/i] apartment and sleep in [i]our[/i] bed first.”
After Christmas I migrated all of my belongings to his place, well, our place. I got out of the shower. He was almost done shaving and smelled of masculine body wash. I inhaled the aroma. He only wore boxers. I had my towel tucked so it would hold itself up, “We’ve been together how long now?”
“That’s tricky.” He wiped his face.
“It’s not a test.” I rolled my eyes, “I meant how long have you been shoving yourself into me?”
“Since April twenty-seventh.” He said confidently.
“If we skip summer it was about three months,” I counted in my head. “And I’m always on the bottom and you’re always on top.”
“I like where this is going.” I allowed him to loosen my towel.
I was hovering over him, suddenly anxious. He was waiting to progress and kissed the back of my hand. I took it back, balancing over him, I lowered myself. I squealed in response as I felt him stretching me again.
“Go slower if you have to.” He encouraged.
I listened and took him more gradually. When I was satisfied with the span I leaned forward to get him to hit me just right. It was getting better as we moved. Testing him I moved my hands down his abdomen to sink lower. Unexpectedly he thrusted upward, he caught me in the most perfect position. “Right there, Jon.”
He kept working and allowed me to enjoy the nerve endings he was locked on. A new experience, I wasn’t going to last long. I threw my head back moaning and tightening around him. It came even easier now that I was given some control. He put his hands on my hips and guided me with him, “Take it for me,” He propelled himself with strength and took on the work as I was busy enjoying him. My chest heaved as I cried his name.
He gave me a moment to regain myself though his upward motion resumed and we worked in tandem. I could feel the second rising. I didn’t try to relax, I wanted it and I wanted him to appreciate my immense effort. My breath was caught. Finally able to inhale, I whipped my head forward and held steady letting him work me further. He adjusted my hips and struck me with even more intensity. I finished with him, brushing my hands up his chest again. “I like this better.”
“Yeah, because you have all the say.” His hands graced my thighs.
I came home from class, Jon was on the phone, “She doesn’t work out but she’s got this rockin’ body, right?” He described, “She’s twenty and she’s so tight it’s like the first time, every time, she only takes a few minutes because she’s so sensitive. By the time I go she’s on two or maybe three.”
“Are you talking to my dad?” I caught him by surprise. He hung up. His face was pale, knowing he was caught red handed. I tilted my head as I opened the refrigerator, “I guess I can’t call you out. I’ve bragged about you, too.”
I was invited to go to Pittsburgh game. I kept my small bag with me as we approached the coach bus. Security stopped me and Rocky saw us arguing. The guard looked to him, “I’ve been instructed to only let on the team and staff members with a badge.
Rocky gave me his lanyard which stated his importance. “Up she goes.”
I was expecting a rowdy drive but they looked scared. Pittsburg was good that year and they knew it. There was quiet chatter. I walked up to the driver, “Can I play a song?”
He handed me an auxiliary cord, I clicked and “Henrietta” from Fratellis played, the same artist that sang their anthem when they scored. It was an upbeat song I used to play at parties. They started to perk up when they recognized it. By the second verse we were all shouting the lyrics. “And it’s clean out the bank. And a bump off your daddy. You can come live with us amongst the has-beens and the addicts. These are crazy times down at Costello music. You can answer the phone and talk any way you choose it!”
Even though Pittsburgh was holding first place, the Hawks were kicking ass, winning almost every game. I gave every extra minute to them but I was in over my head with school, an internship, games, constantly traveling, leaving time for Jon alone and planning Laura’s wedding. She got engaged right after Christmas, which was a taxing season on its own. I was losing grip, I had to eliminate something but I didn’t know what to pick.
Soon the Super Bowl was over and March Madness was done. Ignoring spring training, I let baseball fall to the wayside as I couldn’t participate in anything more. The Hawks were in the finals. It hurt twice as much when Jon fell or when he missed a goal. My stomach churned watching him. Two games down, they won the first and lost the second.
We finally had a quiet night together. Jon had a pizza delivered from my favorite place. He passed me a plate. “No thanks. I don’t feel well. I’m really nauseas. I have been for a week.”
“Fuck.” He said nervously.
“I’m not pregnant. I took two tests.” I held back a lurch. “I think it’s something else.”
The intermittent queasiness persisted but I ignored it, pinning it on anxiety. I was elated when they won the Stanley Cup again. I ran onto the ice when the confetti came down. I didn’t even care he was full of sweat. They came over covered in champagne, after bottles were shaken in the locker room. We partied until four in the morning. Jovial, drunken bodies littered the apartment. “Kaner,” Jon yelled, “Move over. Or I’m going to step on you when I wake up.”
Patrick got in bed with us, provoking Alex to join too. “I love you guys.” Patrick kissed Jon’s cheek, “I love Tazer, and I love Brinski,” He reached over Jon but couldn’t quite get to me, “And you too Megan.” He fell back into the pillows. “And me. I’m so good.”
I woke with a terrible feeling. So thankful he had a master suite, I ran into the bathroom and unloaded my stomach. It kept coming no matter what we tried. It burnt my esophagus each time. “Why won’t it stop?” Jon went to get more towels.
Patrick yelled down the hall to him, “Did she drink anything red?”
“She had Ginger and Jack all night.”
“This is bad.” Alex showed him the blood tinged vomit.
I lay on the floor wishing I could fall asleep. On the phone with his mother Jon argued with her, “I know I shouldn’t have given her any, but I did. The problem is that she won’t stop throwing up and it’s full of blood.”
Patrick handed me another towel while Jon listened to her. I could faintly hear his mother. “How much did she have?”
“I don’t know. A lot I guess. She kept up with us all night.”
“She’s not a big person. She’s tall but she’s real skinny, can’t weigh more than a buck fifty.” She sighed. “You’re going to have to take her to the emergency room.”
I was finally falling asleep, not caring that dirty linen surrounded me. Patrick shook me violently, "Hey, Megan.” He was peeling my eyes open, “Wake up.”
I couldn’t push his hand away. I could barely move. “Good, she’s falling asleep.” Jon leaned against the vanity.
“If she was sleeping I would be able to wake her up. She’s passing out.” Patrick continued to shake me.
“A person can only lose so much blood,” His mother paused, “Before things go bad. Bring her in as soon as possible. That’s all I can do for you when I’m so far away.”
Still on the floor he kneeled down to me. I was only partially coherent, “Where’s your phone? I need to call Shelby.”
Marian Hossa returned with it. Lying on my side I lurched into my hair. This time it was only blood.
He was somewhat relieved when she answered, “Sorry to call you so early.” He listened to her, “This is Jon, I need your help. We won the Cup last night,” He paused, “Yes, thank you. Listen, I need your help right away. We partied all night and Megan was with us. She’s been vomiting since seven o’clock.” He sighed again, “I know, it’s been almost an hour. There’s a lot of blood.” I wretched again, “A lot. And she’s pale and she keeps passing out. She needs to go in but I can’t take her myself.”
Calm and perceptive Shelby knew to ask questions later. She arrived in less than ten minutes, which is unheard of for Chicago traffic. In the ER I laid in misery. I had labs, a CT scan and an upper scope. The physician sat beside my bed, “I’m Doctor Fields,” He shook my hand, “I wanted to let you know you have a huge, bleeding stomach ulcer. It definitely wasn’t helped by drinking copious amounts of alcohol.” He looked me dead on, “Who gave you that much?”
Shelby took the blow, “We went to a party and I wasn’t watching her.”
“She’s going to need intense fluid replacement. I’d say you’ll be here for two or three days.”
“Days? I have class tomorrow-”
He stopped me, “If you’re concerned about class I can give you a medical excuse, you’ll make up the assignment another time. Right now, if we don’t get this under control, you’re going to come back in worse shape.”
Two or three days turned into five. My parents were sitting in the corner waiting to take me to their house. At home I lay in my bed, ironically tired after doing nothing for days. My mother pulled the blanket over me. “I’m sorry, mom.”
“Nothing to be sorry for. You were excited and got carried away.” She fluffed my pillow, “It’s really good that Jon knew to bring you in. And that you called us, you didn’t try to cover it up.”
But Jon didn’t know to bring me. And I was going to try to cover it up. I called him to give him an update, “Hey, how are you doing?”
“I’m alright. I’m home now.”
“I’m sorry I kind of freaked out. Did you get in trouble?”
“No, not yet. I think they’re making sure I survive before they give me the comedown.” I pulled the blanket closer to my face, “I think after all of the bleeding and scans and stuff I was hooked up to, the worst part was that the staff kept asking me if I could be pregnant.”
“Insult to injury.” He shuffled then asked nervously, “You’re not, right?”
“I told you I wasn’t.” I yawned. “I’ll call you later. I’m going to hang here for the weekend.”
On Monday I was feeling better, though I was still tired. I let myself into the apartment and laid on the couch waiting for him. He was on the phone when he came in, “I’m at home. I just woke her.” He sat on the arm of the sofa and brushed my hair back, “I know. She spent five days in intensive care, mom. I know. She’s fine. She’s right here with me. I have Nick and Carol’s number, and both of her sisters in case. Thanks for checking in, I’ll call you this weekend.” He hung up and kissed my temple. “She’s worried about you. I am too. Come on.” He took my hand, bringing me to our bed. “I’m going to Brandon’s. I want you to sleep.”
“I haven’t seen you in a week,” I stopped him, “That’s why I came over. Not to be alone.”
He slid off his jeans and got in with me. He pressed his chest to my back, “Happy?”
I took his hand and held it over my waist, “Thank you.”
Fully recovered I was able to enjoy the summer. I stayed away from alcohol but partied with them as much as before. We were on Brent’s and Dayna’s patio. She was pouring beer into a glass but there was too much foam, “Woah, you’re going way too fast.”
She sighed as I took it and brushed some off the top, “Well, you do it then.”
“You can’t be too quick or you end up with all of the white on top. Slow down, don’t rush it.”
“It’s an art to make sure you’re giving the right amount of head?” She asked.
“How did this conversation transpire?!” Alex asked loudly, referencing the sexual potential.
“Imagine if you were inside and you heard it. You’d be creaming yourself before you could figure out they were talking about beer.” Sharpie took the amber ale. “Thanks for giving me head, Megan.”
While in the pool, I noticed a guy watching me, he’d been sizing me up all day. He didn’t look away when I made eye contact. When we were eating he brushed up against me but didn’t give a quick apology like most people would. He left me feeling strange and was looking at me again. I pulled my legs out of the water. I tied my sarong and sat very close to Jon while I my leg tapped his nervously. “What’s going on?”
“That guy has been giving me a weird vibe all day, the one in the blue polo.” I looked to the cement to avoid his eyes, “Can I have your shirt?”
Pulling it over to cover as much as possible Brandon asked, “The dude in the grey trunks? I think he’s Dayna cousin. Tom or something.”
Brent nodded, “He comes around once in a while. We don’t see him a lot.”
“He’s freaking me out.” I kept my eyes low.
Jon steadied my twitching leg. “I’ve got you.”
The time came when I needed to use the restroom. I left Jon, confident my three minute absence would go unnoticed by the stranger, though Tom was inside when I was done. He said hello but I ignored him. I hurried through the kitchen, “I saw you making eyes at me all day.”
“Excuse me?” I scoffed.
He walked toward me, “Don’t play that. I know your type. Flaunting yourself until you get the attention you want. I’ll give it to you.”
I backed up against the refrigerator, “No thank you. You must have read me wrong.”
He trapped me, “You sure?” He put his hand on my hip and kissed my neck.
Overcome with anger I pushed him back, “I said I’m not interested!”
Witnessing the event Patrick whipped open the door, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The entire party turned their attention to us, highly visible through both the huge door and multiple windows. Backing into the curtains I tried to stay out of sight. I kneeled on the ground knowing there was going to be a scene. Patrick pushed Tom roughly, “Huh? What happened here?” He only had one recorded fight on the ice, it wasn’t his style.
Suddenly nine of them were in the kitchen, all prepared to brawl. I became flush with the wall, feeling the room shrinking. Patrick grabbed him by the collar, “You think you can touch a woman without her permission?” He shoved him out the door, “Don’t you ever let me catch you near her again!”
“What the hell happened?” Corey asked.
“He had his lips on Megan’s neck and she was trying to push him away.” He gestured to the spot where it took place, “So I did what I had to.”
“Where’d she go?” Jon looked around.
“I’m right here.” I said quietly still on the floor.
“Are you alright?” He bent down and delicately helped me stand. I nodded with embarrassment, “He’s lucky Kaner got to him before I did.”
Dayna gave me a hoodie and a pair of jogging pants, a gesture of comfort after the bizarre episode. “I’m so sorry. He’s a distant cousin. Somehow we’re related through my sister’s husband. He’s always been strange but I thought he was harmless.”
The sun had set and the temperature dropped. I rested on Jon and was falling asleep sitting by the bonfire. Waking up abruptly, I inhaled. “Do you want to go?” Jon laid his head on mine.
“No, not if you’re having fun.”
The light from the fire showed his drink was almost gone. He stood up, “Hey, I have two things to say and then we’re going to head out.” He pulled the blanket off of us, “Thank you Brent, for having such a groovy party. I’m already thrilled about the next one.” A round of thanks went to Brent and Dayna. “And I want to say thank you to Kaner, for being the most noble guy I know.” He raised the last of his beer, “You’re number eighty-eight most nights but tonight you were the shining star, numero uno.”
He kept me very close to him at the next few gatherings, even if we knew all of the attendants. Either his arm was around my shoulders or waist or he followed me. Cold and tired at two in the morning I went inside from Corey’s rooftop party. My short dress offered little protection from the wind and we’d been there for five hours. “Do you want to get out of here?”
“One more?” He adjusted the bill of his baseball cap. He wore a Cubs jersey and jeans.
I was impatient, “If we go now I’ll take my panties off in the car.”
I wasn’t aware Abby and Patrick Sharp were standing behind me. He looked to his wife, “Why don’t you offer things like that?”
Jon’s family was coming back into town. He had the nerve to tell my mom and they arranged for us to have dinner. It was a major sign that he wanted to bring us together. I stocked our apartment with a tremendous amount of food and snacks. After a relaxing shower I found Jon in the pantry. “Brings back old times, doesn’t it?”
He nodded and kept his eyes on a bag of chips. He reached for them, “If I can’t eat them, I can still hold them. I’m doing the training camp diet again.”
“Buzzkill.” I grabbed a tray of Oreos. “I’m not supposed to either, but I’m going for it.” I peeled back the wrapper.
“You’re on an actual restriction. I just like to torture myself.”
I grabbed the bag he held, “Now I’m going to eat both of these, right in front of you. And I won’t feel bad.”
He watched as the seal was torn. It was like he was in a trance, “Give me one. Just one.”
“You can eat these or you can eat me.” With the intent of a sarcastic remark, he took it as a sexual offering.
Without warning he pushed me onto the island and tore my leggings as he pulled them down. I was excited about his urgency. He kissed my belly jerked my entire body closer to him. He was really going to do it. When my back hit the cold quartz counter I arched in response. I felt his tongue open me. His lips formed a constantly moving ring. My legs hung over the end of the counter, he held me in place as I struggled to stay put.
“Hold still.” He ordered. It was going to take a lot more than that to keep me flat. In a winding motion he sucked, then thrust his tongue forward again. He worked the entire area but focused on my clitoris. I couldn’t stop the quick response. I moaned loudly as he added a finger. He said three words, “Come for me.”
It worked and I gasped as he continued, he watched me as he kept a steady pace with his hand. I needed a rest but he wouldn’t give it. He dropped his pants and shoved himself in. I was already lubed up from my previous orgasm. It was still a slim space but he glided suitably. He sat me up and carried me to our bedroom.
We landed on the comforter and he continued to slam into me. Just as my legs were limp, my abdomen tightened again. Unintentionally I was forcing him out, but he fought it. He had to slow but his force continued. He moved in a rhythm that kept me thrashing beneath him. I was learning that it was his favorite thing, to get me to peak and keep me there as long as he could. He railed on my clitoris over and over, hitting the same spot without relent. I stuttered his name as he thrust into me with everything he had until he came, and even then he kept going.
I was sore and exhausted. My heart was still beating rapidly. I closed my eyes just before he spoke, “I can handle this diet.” He rolled face forward into the bed, “You just have to be willing to help me like this. Four times a day for the next six weeks.”
Hours later his family arrived. It was enough time for a nap and to clean up our mess. They had cocktails before we started preparing a late dinner. Taking a break from the group I snuck away to our bedroom. Jon sat on the freshly washed bedspread. “All twenty dudes and their wives can be here and I feel fine, but this is insane.” I took a cleansing breath, “Why does it feel so cramped in here?”
“Because you know that it’s important they like each other. And that it’s crucial they do so we can take another step forward.”
Eleven of us sat at our dining table. It almost felt like Thanksgiving again. “What did you say you do?” Bryan asked my dad.
“I’m an investor. I work with mutual funds, sometimes stocks or bonds. And you?” He looked up to see Jon laughing silently, “Yes, all of my children are trust fund babies. I built them an empire, but none of them are allowed to have it until they’re married for a year.”
Our parents continued to discuss their careers. Shelby gave a strange look, “I thought we could have it if we had a kid.”
“What are you trying to say, Shelbs?” I asked, “Bun in the oven?”
“You should be asking. I can’t believe how much you take it from him.”
My face went incredibly red and Jon struggled to constrain a laugh. “I saw you take your blanket out of the dryer. I bet they had it timed.”
“Dead giveaway.” Laura took a drink of her daiquiri.
David had his hand over his face embarrassed for me, “I thought Jon was the worst sibling ever. These two beat him by miles.”
Basking in their win, his presence was required on television, satellite radio shows and promotional ads. It became a special experience when we were home at the same time. I was missing more class in order to see him when he wasn’t traveling or training. It didn’t matter to me, I was still passing with flying colors.
The distance made us want each other even more. We got to a point where we ran out of condoms. He dug through the drawer angrily. I pulled him back to me, “It’s okay. You can pull out.”
Before we could restock we had a few close calls, once even allowing him to come inside me during the heat of the moment. But our haphazard ways caught up with us. I was late. I sat on the floor praying, hoping it was negative. I asked anybody, for anything that would help me- fate, God, a miracle. He came home and I couldn’t hide it. I started crying more intensely knowing I’d have to tell him.
He didn’t say anything. We sat on the floor waiting for the timer to go off. “Negative!” I shouted, “It’s negative!” I threw my arms around him. “One line means no, two means yes. One line!”
“We need to be more careful. Or we’re really going to regret it.” He helped me up.
“Yeah. I’m still going to go in and make sure. And because my stomach has been bothering me again.”
“Too much stress when we’re in bed?” He smiled.
“See, now I want to sleep with you again.” I complained.
I was given the explanation that my stomach had been bleeding so bad, my body was conserving blood so I wouldn’t receive a cycle. Put on a strict diet, worse than Jon’s, and physical restraints I had to behave myself in all possible manners.
We were at the final bash of the summer. We went up Patrick’s lake house in New York, which had a dock overlooking the water. I was wearing a sun dress over my bathing suit and Jon was wearing swim shorts with a Hurley shirt. The bottoms looked funny, “What’s all bundled in your pocket?”
He pulled out a pair of sexy pink panties. Once he recognized them he swiftly hid them. I blushed heavily. “Ay-oh!” Patrick yelled, “That means it’s time to start drinking. Mix ‘em up, Seabs!”
New to our antics, Corey’s squeeze Brittany and Patrick’s girlfriend Lisa asked for recommendations. “I can make girlie drinks like a mudslide or a martini.” Brent opened the lid of the elaborate blender.
“Oh, that reminds me. Megan, remember when we were talking about peach schnapps? You should try ‘Sex on the Beach’.” Dayna suggested.
Jon answered for me. “You should.”
I passed him a sullen look. “I feel like actual sex on the beach would be terrible.”
“If it was with Jon it would be.” Brandon poured a slew of shots.
“Really, though. Even if you managed to have some time alone on a glorious slice of sand and you had this wonderful, spontaneous moment it would be ruined by broken shells on your back and seaweed in your hair.”
“Sounds about right.” Dayna agreed and Rachel nodded.
“No more of this!” Corey clapped, “Don’t cock block us. Jon can’t be the only one getting any.”
We were the only ones who knew he wasn’t getting much lately. “What’ll it be, dear?” Brent asked me, knowing I’d take about anything he would put together.
I shook my head, “Nothing tonight, my good man. I’m on a dry spell. I have another ulcer.” I complained. “I’ve been ordered to prevent any strain on my stomach. I can’t drink alcohol and I can’t eat anything good. I can’t go to games, I can’t exercise and I’m not supposed to have sex.” I kicked a beach ball on the deck.
Dayna was smiling at me, “Then what’s with the lingerie in Jon’s pocket?”
“It’s a long list. I can’t be perfect.”
“You have got that girl wound so tight around your cock.” Bryan Bickell smiled leaning back, “Well I guess she’s only had you. Maybe you’re terrible and she doesn’t even know.”
“Fuck you, dude.” Jon shook his head and threw a drink umbrella at him, “I’m going in.”
Patrick and Alex joined him by the pool. I watched him remove his shirt preparing to get into the water. He was tan and his muscles flexed with every movement. He stepped in, the water up to his waist, but went back up the stairs after Patrick splashed him. I didn’t realize I was staring, my lips parted slightly as his swimsuit became like cellophane and outlined him.
Dayna spoke pulling me out of a trance, “I don’t think that’s the case.”
September came around it was back to business with school. On the weekend I was watching the Blackhawks game on television instead of going with him to Vancouver. I was still on an unofficial travel restriction due to health and on account of Laura’s wedding planning. My attention was fixed on Gustav and Duncan passing the puck down the ice, only one defender remained between them and the goal tender. Duncan hit it with everything he had and scored. “Yes.” I said under my breath.
Laura pulled me back to the table where we were gathered taking notes, “You can stand to miss one.”
I streamed the game holding my phone under the table I watched Brent block a shot for Corey, “Go Brent.”
My mother protested and took my phone, “We requested your attention tonight. Your sister wants help planning her special day, give her the time she deserves.”
Sick of the recommendations I stopped following any of them. At another hospital system, I was able to conceal my stomach problems and got a prescription for birth control. Waking in our bed, I already had Jon’s plans for the morning set. I showed him the little package, he knew what it was right away. It took a long time to reach my peak. Every time I got close my stomach lurched and my head pounded. He was obviously aware, already so close he went but was concerned. I told him what was happening.
“You shouldn’t feel like you’re going to vomit when we’re in bed.” He pulled the blanket over me, “You need to go back to see that doctor.”
“I’m fine. I think I’m dehydrated. I forgot my water bottle yesterday and I wasn’t near the café to buy one.”
The next week I weaseled out of another night of listening to Laura’s wedding plans. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about [i]her[/i], I was really only interested in the dress and the cake, which were already decided.
We walked into the UC with Jon. I grabbed for him as a dizzy spell took over me. I couldn’t hear him for a moment. I let go of him but stumbled back. He took my phone and called my dad but I grabbed it from him, “I’m fine.” I hit the end call button over and over. He didn’t look pleased but didn’t fight me.
I sat with my dad, three open seats were beside us as my sisters and mom were shopping for bridesmaid dresses. Jon usually chewed his mouth guard or fidgeted but tonight he sat with a scowl, they were even winning. After the second period Patrick messaged me, “What the hell is Jon so uptight about?”
I didn’t have the time or means to explain. I wrote a simple reply, “I’m still having issues with my stomach. He wants me to go in but I think it will pass.”
He wrote back, “I think you should go, too. I’ll tell him you will. Because I know you’ll do the right thing.”
They went back out for the third period. The other team was overly aggressive, breaking rules and racking up power plays for the Hawks. Jon got cross-checked and kept an eye on the player that hit him, watching the same guy shoved Patrick into the boards. Another player hooked Brandon. At any cost Jon got the puck back was struck by a stick. The play was stopped on a slashing call. Jon fell hard and when he got up, he went after their Captain. Their gloves came off, swinging fiercely at one another. He didn’t fight often so I knew he was upset.
I stood up quickly but fell to the concrete floor. I tried to get up but I couldn’t. I could barely see Jon unloading on this guy. At least he wasn’t taking hits. The refs tried to break them apart. My dad tried to sit me up. Joel turned around and recognized us. He yelled to Brandon, “Get Toews off the ice. He’s done for the night.”
Instead of going to the penalty box Brandon guided him to the lockers. Jon moved slowly watching as two medics came down to help me. They brought me back to intensive care. Dr. Fields, who I was now seeing regularly explained, “Your blood pressure is so low your body can’t maintain it if you move too quickly. Which means you’re bleeding heavily.” He sighed, “Have you been following my recommendations?”
Everybody in the room knew I wasn’t.
“Megan, we talked about this so many times,” He counted off, “When you feel this way you need to push fluids and stay with clear liquids. If it lasts more than one day you need to call. You were to reduce stressful and physical activities.” He looked at Jon knowing exactly my source of stress, “You have to let me know what’s going on or we’re going to continue meeting this way. I need you to keep at it all the time. Not when you feel like it.”
I shook my head, “It’s really hard. I hate being the sick one. Everybody feels sorry for me.”
“Well they’re going to be truly sorry when we can’t revive you.” He was brutally honest.
My dad lost it, “What do you mean ‘can’t revive her’?”
“Very few people die from bleeds like this,” He began, “But if they refuse intervention and refuse to follow simple recommendations it is a possibility.”
“Intervention?” My mother asked.
“Yes, a rather simple surgery can take out the chronically inflamed tissue. It would likely be the end of this mess.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Shelby asked. “It could have saved us all so much time and energy.”
“I don’t want to do it.” I retracted into my bed. “I don’t want the surgery or a scar. And you have to have a feeding tube while it heals.”
Jon wouldn’t look at me, “I can’t believe you’re so superficial that you wouldn’t have said yes when you were here last spring.”
The truth was that I was terrified. “So the guy that played with a tear in his knee, the guy that said it was better to let it heal naturally, is criticizing me for not having a surgery?” I became defensive.
“I can live without playing hockey. I can live without getting on the ice!” Jon’s face was tense, “He gave you two options and you ignored them both.”
“Well Jon, let’s cut [i]you[/i] open. Let’s take out part of [i]your[/i] stomach and drill a hole in [i]your[/i] belly so you can have a cord hang out of it. Sounds great, eh?”
My dad made sense of it, “If you don’t want to have the surgery, fine. I wouldn’t want it for myself and I don’t really want you to have it either. But I’m not going to pay for a car, and a phone, and books and tuition for somebody that’s treating their body like shit.” He gave me an ultimatum, “You’re going to do what Dr. Fields says because I know he’s looking out for your best interest. And I have the best group of tattle tales on this side of the globe to make sure you’re doing it.” I pouted knowing I was going to have to work at this. “If I find out that you aren’t doing what he said, poof- your debit card is canceled. If you’re eating garbage, your car is gone. Get it?”
Consulting with a care team and my family we agreed I could have one “cheat” each day, whether it was food or going to a match, or sex. When my family went home, we were counseled as a couple. It was found out that I was taking birth control, which made symptoms much worse. We were told the only option was condoms, though we were warned to take it easy in the bedroom overall.
Within weeks I was already feeling better from following the diet and resting. Planning Laura’s wedding again, I sat with her, Shelby and mom in the dining room. My father was watching the Hawks game and started cheering, “Go, go, go, go!”
I ran into the sitting room and watched Jon battle with two defending players. Back and forth he hit the puck and they knocked it back. He spun, with his back to the net he slammed it in. “Goal!” We yelled.
“Fuck,” I sat beside him, “That was my chance for today.”
“And well spent it was.” He alluded to my soon-to-be canceled plans with Jon.
Unable to do much else over a tremendous period of time I took accelerated classes and was expected to graduate a semester early. Over the next month I had to divvy out my time. I kept a calendar of events and wrote out how I planned my selections.
The close knit players were taking the girls for a night on the town. Jon didn’t plan on telling me because he thought I wouldn’t be able to go. Hours before we were supposed to meet, Corey’s girlfriend messaged me asking what I was wearing. “Please let me have this. I haven’t seen them in so long.” I whined to Jon, “I won’t even take a cheat tomorrow.”
“I’m not going to be running you to the ER because you had a something you weren’t supposed to.”
“I’m using two days on one meal. I’m so sick of this diet. I can name everything I’m able to eat in one breath.” I looked to him, “Tell me that isn’t sad.”
He nodded, “Alright, we’ll go. But you’re not drinking.”
“All I’m asking for is food. Like Oliver Twist.” I mimicked the character’s high voice, “Please sir, I want some more.”
He had his tongue pocketed in his cheek, “You’re sure you’re talking about food and not about me?”
“You can be Tuesday’s pick.”
I willingly made a follow up appointment to prove I was doing what he said. Dr. Fields was impressed, so much that he told me I would only have to limit myself every other day.
I took the stairs instead of the elevator. “Look, Jon. I can run!”
“That’s what you chose, stairs?”
“I can do what I want today, within reason.”
I did everything he said and upon another follow up I was highly stable was given a simple warning not to overextend myself, though I was not restrained. For the first time in a long while I could appreciate spontaneity. I made lunch for us, “Thank you for kicking my ass. I feel so much better. It sucked and I felt trapped. But it’s over.” I rested my head on his chest, “No more rules.”
He brushed my hair back and unzipped my pants. He removed his shirt, then went after mine. I was wedged against him and the counter. I planned on working him into a frenzy.
The doorbell went and there was pounding on the door, “Tazer, let us in. We bought the new kids.”
His head hung in disappointment knowing it was part of his job to make new players feel welcome, “I’m kicking them out at ten. After that you’re mine.”
Over Christmas break he invited me to stay with his family. I liked spending time with them, which was good because we were staying in Canada for a week. We went to a local event called the Lane of Lights, a forested area that had elaborate lights adorning the tress along with scenes and figurines made of the colored bulbs. “My hands are cold.” I breathed warm air into them.
He returned with two cups of hot chocolate, “That’s for you,” He took my other hand, “This is for me.”
The second time around I was no longer interested in the display. I watched how the surrounding lights and shadows reflected on his face, the contour of his cheeks and the scars and scratches from playing so aggressively. “Are you still cold?”
“I’m fine.” My teeth chattered.
He knew I wasn’t completely truthful, “Come here. I forgot I had these.” He held his cup with his teeth as he ripped open the multiple packages of hand warmers and grabbed my collar to drop one down my shirt. “That’ll warm you up fast. We used to do it when we’d play outside.”
Much warmer I dragged him by the hand, “Jon, look. Mistletoe.”
I kissed him slowly to savor the moment. When I tried to back away he put his arm around me. “I love you, Megan.” He kissed me another time, “So much.”
“I love you too, Jon.” If it weren’t so dark our stance may have been deemed inappropriate.
We walked further down the path. Suddenly he was out of sight. I couldn’t see anything other than scattered fire pits in the distance. “Jon?” The trees were illuminated again. He was on the ground. I bent down to him, “Are you alright?”
A flash of light showed he was on his knee. Tracy held a camera. A crowd gathered around us drawing more and more people. “Megan, I know you have so much left to do with your life.” A massive amount of light from phones and cameras began flashing, revealing the ring he held out. “But I’d like to be part of it. I hope you want to be part of mine forever.”
My cold hand shook as he placed the ring. I beamed with delight, “Forever.”
He touched his lips to mine softly, I could feel him smiling back. I broke away from him and looked up at the fireworks that started. It was sort of magical the way he planned it.
That night I lay on top of him. We were on the couch watching Holiday movies in the living room. I was in a strange state, almost asleep but aware of what was going on around me. His mother cooed. Tracy took another photo of us, the sound pulling me into a more alert state.
“Do you want to go to sleep?” He asked.
I nodded, rubbing my face on his shirt. I thought we’d stay on the couch but he carried me to the bedroom. On my side I kissed him over and over until I fell asleep.
In the morning I wanted to call my mother. I had[i] eighty nine[/i] alerts between text messages, phone calls and voice mails, not to mention the notifications to social accounts. Jon posted the photo Tracy took with the caption, “She said yes.” I reposted it to my page and the notifications rolled in even faster. My eyes held a look of surprise and I was smiling at him while he held out the ring.
I looked through the many messages and saw my mother wrote, “What a great plan! He told us last week. I know you’re very busy. We’ll talk when you get back to Chicago.”
My father also wrote to me, “I’m so proud of you.”
Tracy had the photos printed. She handed them to me along with my gloves, “He took them out of your pockets on purpose. I watched him do it.”
Jon was shoveling eggs into his mouth, “I had to run interference.”
I didn’t know how to plan a wedding. It was usually only done once and I didn’t help Laura as much as I should have. He wanted a date I’m late spring, before trades and the draft took place which only allowed us four months. We were lucky we got everything together on time.
Between my sisters, our mothers, grandmothers and other women in our families, they were all driving me crazy. Before putting on my dress I tied on my bathrobe and snuck down the hall to his dressing room. He only had his pants on, not even buttoned, when he turned around and spotted me, “What are you doing in here? They’re going to send out a search party.” I breathed him in. His calm demeanor gave me solace. “You look really pretty.” He brushed the bottom fringes of my hair.
“Is it too late to elope?”
“Much too late.”
“Hey, have you seen Megan?” Patrick opened the door, letting in the sound again. “I should have known. Come on, come on. Everybody’s starting to lose their cool.”
“They already have.”
Jon let go and Patrick tried to conceal me but we were almost spotted by Jon’s mother. “Wait,” Patrick kept lookout and signaled to me, “Run.”
We met the team for breakfast weeks after. I was happy to see them again, though the smell was making me nauseas. I spent most of the morning breathing into my sleeve. Jon discreetly leaned over, “Kind of like before?”
“No, it’s different. It doesn’t hurt. I’ve had a headache and I’m all flushed. I think I’m just sick.”
Still in my early twenties, I was convinced my mother could repair me. She had her hand on my cheek, “A lot of brides get sick after their wedding, now that everything has caught up. It’s a demanding time. But I want you to rest so we don’t have any more problems.”
On and off for weeks the symptoms lingered. I missed another cycle. Last time that meant I was near hemorrhaging. I was scared to tell Jon, the season was starting and I didn’t want to be a distraction.
“He’s your husband first and an athlete second. That changed when you married him.” Laura said over the phone.
“I know, I know. But it’s different. I certainly don’t want to be his burden. It’s a fifty, fifty relationship. It always has been.”
“You tell him or I will. And that won’t look good, having important information coming from his sister-in-law instead of his wife.” She made a convincing point. “I’ll even take you in if you want me to. But you’re going to tell him.”
Expecting another week in the hospital I started packing a bag, “Okay. Come get me.”
Before I had any care my nurse asked, “Is there a chance you could be pregnant?”
I said cautiously, “I got married in April.”
Laura smiled knowing there was a possibility. “How long have you been sexually active?” The nurse was very professional and handed me a cup.
“Almost every day.” My cheeks burned as I thought of the times we were so enthralled we omitted using a condom.
Having done it so many times before I followed the directions and gave it back. Doctor Fields came into my room with a huge smile, “Well, it’s not an ulcer.” He congratulated me, “It’s a baby. Your labs are perfect, you’re the healthiest I’ve ever seen you.” He wrote a phone number down, “This is for my colleague Paul Travis. He’s the best obstetrician I know. I’ll let him know you’ll be calling.” He nodded and left.
My chest swelled and my throat felt tight. “What am I going to do?”
“You’re going to tell him!” She said excitedly, “You’re married. It’s okay to have sex, the purpose of saying vows is to safeguard your relationship.”
“What if he’s unhappy? It happened so quickly.”
“He won’t be unhappy.” She spoke sincerely, “That’s why he chose you. That’s why he asked you to marry him. And that’s why he kept giving it to you almost every day, like you pointed out.” She laughed. “If there’s any other reaction than pride, he’s going to deal with Rocky and dad. And me and Laura.”
She dropped me off. Jon was in the middle of a work out. Sweat dripped down his chest and abs as he held a strong pose. He was only in tight shorts and shoes I licked my lip watching him, wanting to rip them off.
“I saw that.” He stood up and wiped his face with a towel, “It’s only been a few hours. But if you’re in the mood I can go again.”
If I didn’t have news I would have leapt at him, taken him on the floor like we had so many times. But that was how I wound up waiting to tell him. “Where have you been? I thought we were meeting your parents for dinner.”
I wanted to say it but I felt like I was moving in slow motion. “Laura took me to the ER.” I tried to piece the puzzle together for him, “My mom pointed out that a wedding can take its toll, especially with my history of ulcers.” He looked concerned but I kept talking, “And I missed another period, so I got scared. But I’m not sick, I’m pregnant.”
He kissed me lightly, a smile that I’d never seen graced him, “Now you’re got to be mine forever.” He put his hand over my abdomen, “Both of you.”
It seemed as though I was better off pregnant. The symptoms came from nerves and any twinge of nausea was relinquished when Jon was around. I had a better appetite and was right on track, only bigger than expected, according to Dr. Travis. I went to see him, my back was killing me, out of concern he ordered another sonogram to prove viability.
At the beginning of December I was nowhere near due. Twenty eight of us were at my parent’s house in Chicago, including Jon’s family, Laura’s husband, Shelby’s boyfriend, my aunts and uncles along with our close neighbors. It was a madhouse, somewhat like Home Alone.
Jon brought back a dessert to the table. He had only one bite, when he was distracted I casually took the plate and finished it. There was only a drizzle of chocolate left on the fork, I pushed it back to him. He didn’t notice and kept talking to my dad’s brother.
I did the same thing to Shelby going after her ice cream topped strudel, though she tried to take it back. “Give me that,” She reached for the fork I held, “It’s the last piece.”
Casual conversation led to a commotion. “Are you having a boy or a girl?” My aunt asked. Jon looked to her anticipating the explanation that we were waiting. It was obvious.
“You know, don’t you?” Jon said calmly.
I couldn’t hide it. “Tell us,” His mother begged, “Please!”
Every set of eyes was on us. “Both.”
“Twins?” My mother clarified.
“I guess it runs in your family, even if you aren’t a twin yourself.” I explained.
An eruption of happiness ran through the house. Jon was still blown back. He didn’t say much over the next bit. When the focus switched from us I brought him into my old bedroom. “I don’t know what to say.” I shrugged, “I only found out a few weeks ago.”
“I shouldn’t be mad at you.” He was slightly irritated, “But I am sort of.”
“I cheated, we said we were waiting. And that was mean,” I apologized, “But I went in because my back hurt so bad. It was one of the things they said to report right away. They were worried and did another scan and found him behind her.”
His mood lightened after I explained, “Damn Reddinger genetics.”
“Either that or you’re very good at conceiving.”
I watched him on the NHL Honors broadcast. He spoke with a newscaster, “A lot of great things happened to you in the last decade: three Stanley Cups, you got married in April and have a set of twins on the way. Tell us, what more can we even expect from you?”
He adjusted his sleeve, “I can tell you that even though I’ve hit many peaks, I’m not done. I plan on shattering as many records as possible. We’ve had a great season as a team, and we’ll have a great season next year. I’ve got my beautiful wife waiting for me every night. I’m so blessed to have support all around, so you haven’t seen the end of me by any means.”
I really like Mibba but the site is unfortunately... dead. Horribly abandoned by most of the admins. And it used to be my oasis.
Now Tumblr has revived fanfiction and I have so much written that I want to post. Mostly Toews. Some epic stories. Some drabble and some smut. Because I’m always thirsty for him. So, more to come. Once I figure out the format in which it should be posted.
dededos
annaxmalina
kaledo-art
pixelskylines
andulkaphoto
tangentwithtanner
origamiaround
