Chapter 27
Jansen
W hen I walk into the Golden Cougar, I’m immediately met by Eugene, who I now know is the owner.
“Don’t start any brawls,” he says.
“What the fuck? I didn’t start anything! You were here, you know that.”
He grins. “Yeah. I’m just yanking your chain.”
I shake my head, then spot Miles and Nolan over at a table against the wall. I head that way. “Hi, guys.”
“Hey,” Miles says. “How’s it hanging?”
“Low and to the left.” I take a seat.
He laughs and lifts his beer.
Nolan eyes me. “You look lower than a snake’s belly in a wheel rut.”
“Funny.”
“Seriously.” He pauses. “So you and Bianca have been riding the wild baloney pony.”
I give him a long look. I guess I don’t need to ask how he knows that. Does Bianca tell her friends everything? Jesus, they probably know my cholesterol levels from the check up I had last week. I sigh. “Yeah.”
“But it’s more than that,” Miles says.
“You guys wanna explain it all to me?” I ask dryly.
“Sorry, man. But you talk about her all the time. I can tell you’re crazy about her.”
The waitress arrives and I order a shot of Jose Cuervo.
“So.” Nolan taps his fingers on the table. “Do you confirm or deny that you’re crazy about her?”
I throw my hands in the air. “Okay, sure, I care about her.”
Miles hoists an eyebrow accusingly. “Does Bianca know that?”
“Yeah.” One corner of my mouth pulls down. “Fuck me. She said she’s going back to Argentina and I asked her to stay. Got my balls busted.”
They exchange a look.
My tequila arrives. I knock it back and order another.
“Bring the bottle,” Miles says to the girl.
“You want her to stay,” Nolan states.
“Yeah. That’s what I said.”
“Huh. Good for you for telling her.”
“Yeah, it felt really good when she walked out.”
“Mr. Sarcasm tonight,” Miles observes. “I respect it.”
“I don’t know why I bothered.” I exhale enough air to sail a tall ship, then smile glumly at the server bringing me another shot of tequila. And the bottle. She also brought two more glasses and I pick up the bottle and pour shots for my new friends. “I really am better off alone.’
They exchange another look and Miles refills my glass. “That sounds like you’ve given up.”
“I’m tired. I’m even a disappointment to my parents. They don’t think I should have bought a winery. They’re just waiting for me to fail and lose not only my shirt but my whole fucking wardrobe.”
“Jesus.” Miles frowns and tosses back his tequila. “You know, I don’t think this is all due to Bianca. The thing is, if Bianca does leave, I get it, that’ll be shitty. But you’ll still be you. You’ll still be a successful hockey player, running a successful winery. This isn’t happening because you’re a flawed human being. Fuck, we’re all flawed.”
“True.” Nolan points at Miles. “You are always late. It drives me crazy.”
“Well, you talk too much.”
“I do not!”
“Yeah, you do. Also you interrupt a lot.”
“What? Well, you’re arrogant! You always think you’re right.”
“I am always right.”
“Guys.” I hold up a hand. “We’re getting off track.”
They give each other narrow-eyed glances, then turn back to me.
“What more can I do?” I ask wearily. “Get down on my knees and beg her to stay?”
“Yes,” Nolan says.
“That usually works,” Miles agrees.
I give him a look.
“I’m not joking.”
I’m not going to admit it to them, but I have thought about doing that. The idea of Bianca leaving, when she loves me, is fucking killing me.
“Why does it have to be like this?” I ask dejectedly. “She said she loves me and she’s leaving anyway.”
“What happened when you told her you love her?” Miles asks curiously. “Wasn’t she happy? Didn’t she want to stay?”
I give him a blank look.
They wait.
“I…uh, didn’t say that.”
They recoil like I just said I enjoy kicking kittens.
“You didn’t say that,” Miles repeats deliberately. “You didn’t tell her you love her?”
I move my head from side to side. “I…I’m not…I told her I don’t want her to leave.”
“Jesus Christ!” Miles’s shout attracts attention from other patrons in the bar.
“YOU DIDN’T TELL HER YOU LOVE HER?” Nolan yells. “What the fuck, man?”
I edge back on my stool, eyeing them warily. I toss back more tequila.
Nolan closes his eyes. “I don’t know if we can help you.”
“I don’t need help.”
“Bruh. You definitely do.” Miles shakes his head. “Okay. Telling someone you love them is a major relationship milestone.”
“Sure.”
“The fear of the other person not saying it back is real,” Nolan adds.
“If one person says it and the other doesn’t, it’s a moment of truth in the relationship,” Miles adds. “It shows your level of commitment to the relationship.”
I stare at him, my mind spinning. “I asked her to stay! That’s commitment! I thought she would know that.”
“Oh man.” Nolan claps a hand on my shoulder. “And you were married.”
“ Were . What does that tell you?” Then I jerk back as a painful memory slams into me. “Holy shit.”
They give me expectant looks, waiting for more.
“I remember Stephanie—my ex-wife—said something to me.” I rub my forehead. “When we split up. She said…shit, I don’t remember exactly, but it was something like it was hard being married to me because I wouldn’t open up.”
“You told her you loved her, didn’t you?” Nolan narrows his eyes at me.
“Yeah, yeah. It was after I retired. I kind of spun out. Basically, I got depressed.” I chomp on my bottom lip. “She said she felt like I didn’t care enough to make an effort.”
“Fuuuuuck,” Nolan breathes. “And you just did it again. With Bianca.”
I did. I fucking did.
I shove a hand into my hair. “Look, it’s not easy talking about some things. My parents always told me to suck it up. Get back out there. Don’t be a weenie.”
“Is that hockey culture?” Miles asks.
“Who are you guys?” I stare at them. My hockey buddies are good friends, but not amateur therapists like these two.
“We know stuff.” Nolan waves a hand. “Okay, tough guy, here’s the thing. Talking about your feelings doesn’t make you weak.”
Is that what I believe?
“Huh. That’s good, man,” Miles says.
“Ana told me that.” Nolan makes a face. “But it’s true. Right?”
“Right.” Miles looks at me.
Things are getting a little blurry. The tequila is hitting my bloodstream. “That makes sense. Although to be honest, nothing makes much sense at the moment.”
“If you really love Bianca, you have to tell her. In those exact words. Not, I love fucking you . Not, you make great wine . Not, I don’t want you to leave . Those. Exact. Words.”
“I fucked up.”
“You can make it right. There’s still time.”
“How?”
“Jesus. We can’t tell you everything.”
“Well, shit.”
We finish off the bottle of tequila while switching topics to wedding talk and the argument Nolan and Ana had this morning about how to squeeze the toothpaste tube. But my mind is swirling with fuzzy thoughts of Bianca.
Miles ends up calling Millie to come pick us up and drive us home since we’ve all partaken of the Jose Cuervo beyond safe driving levels. They drop me off first, and I spend five minutes greeting Moose. I let him out to pee, and then trudge into my bedroom. Sleep sounds like a good idea right now.
Naked beneath the comforter, my fuzzy mind goes over what the guys and I talked about earlier.
I don’t want Bianca to leave. I can’t imagine my life here without her in it. I told her I want her to stay. I thought I was being brave to tell her that. Apparently I was just being a dumbass.
Talking about your feelings doesn’t make you weak.
My therapist after the divorce told me much the same thing. It didn’t mean as much then.
Did Stephanie really feel like I didn’t care about her? I was a mess back then. Fuck. Sure, talking about my feelings might have been good, but I could barely get out of bed some days.
I had so many feelings—so many painful, exhausting feelings. I didn’t even know I could feel like that. I would huddle in bed, overwhelmed, paralyzed.
I’d like to use that as an excuse for not talking about it, but…I’m not that stupid. It probably would have helped to talk about it to someone. But there was no way I was going to admit I was lost. Hopeless. I didn’t know who I was anymore.
When I started going for therapy, I had a hard time talking about it even then.
Regret fills my chest with heaviness. Stephanie cheated on me. But our relationship was more complicated than that. I may have had a role in things falling apart. Maybe?
And then…yeah, just like Nolan said, I did it again. With Bianca.
I’m having a hard time getting air into my lungs. I don’t want that to be the reason things end between me and Bianca. If it is. It’s possible she wouldn’t stay anyway. She does have a life to go back to in Argentina. That’s always been her plan.
But…if it is the reason…if the reason I lose her is because of my own stupid fear of letting myself be vulnerable…I can’t let that happen.
I need her. I crave her, with an aching, desperate need. I love everything about her—her beautiful body, that mouth I love to kiss, her quick mind and creativity, her humor and loyalty. Even her grape juice-stained hands and the weird questions she asks.
She’s fresh air in my stale life. She’s laughter and smiles and fun, with a dedicated, hard-working core. When she looks at me, it’s like standing in a ray of sunshine, feeling the warmth of her admiration, her respect, her confidence in me that makes me feel like I can do anything.
She should have known. Have I not shown her how I feel?
Nah. I can’t shift that onto her. I didn’t know Stephanie felt like I didn’t love her. But I know Bianca does.
Of course she does. She expects people to leave. She expects people to hurt her. And I realize how fucking lucky I am that she let me in. That she told me about her parents, her mother leaving, how her family overlooked her. How she has all that talent and wants to use it.
I need to do better with her. And I need to get over myself.
A crazy thought enters my murky head. I let it circle around and try to examine it. It’s nuts. But maybe it’s not.
“Moose.”
He lifts his head.
“C’mere, buddy.” I sit up and hold out my hand to him.
He pushes up to his feet and pads up the bed to me. I pick him up and set him on my lap. “Tell me what you think of this. Stephanie said I didn’t open up enough. Do you think that’s true?”
He cocks his head, one ear twitching, and I swear he’s thinking, Duh .
“Maybe she was right.”
Moose tilts his head the other way. He’s a good listener.
“Okay,” I tell him. “I have to open up more. Let’s practice.”
He makes a little whine.
I smile. “I love you, buddy.”
He gazes back at me.
That was pretty easy.
Of course, he is a dog.
“I never had a dog, so I didn’t know what it was like.” I stroke a hand over the top of his head, then rub his ears. “I didn’t know how much I would care about you. When I thought they were going to take you away from me, I—” My throat closes up. “I was wrecked.”
His brown eyes are unwavering as he listens intently.
“You’re a pain in my ass sometimes, but I love you.”
He cocks his head.
“I love how you make me laugh. I love how you growl at me when you’re tugging on a toy, but it’s just playing. I love how you’re so determined to catch those goddamn squirrels.” I pet his back. “And I think you love me, too. You can’t say it, but you show it. You’re so excited every time I come home. Nobody’s ever been that happy to see me.”
I swear he smiles.
“But that’s not enough for humans. Jumping all over them when you see them and licking their face isn’t enough.”
You’re losing your shit, Dad.
I know that’s what he’s thinking. I give him a weak grin. “You could be right. I have an idea. Tell me what you think of this.”