Chapter 13 #2
Charlie didn’t have a response to that, so she fell back into her usual pensive mood as she got ready for her dinner.
The sweater she chose was definitely more dressed up than what she aimed for, and she tried not to feel self-conscious as she also did a little bit of her makeup.
It wasn’t that she had many thoughts about her appearance or wanted to look a certain way, but she wanted to dress up for Olive.
She rarely wanted to do anything for other people’s attention, but if it was Olive who was looking at her, she wouldn’t mind that at all.
Charlie shook her head as her thoughts trailed off, recognizing that she was being ridiculous.
You barely know this woman, Charlie reminded herself.
But that wasn’t necessarily true. She may know a little too much about her in intimate scenarios, but that didn’t mean she didn’t understand her outside of that.
It was clear that Olive was as disciplined about her work as Charlie was—and perhaps that is why they were so drawn to each other.
Two people seeking a refuge from the expectations put on themselves by others, and themselves.
The thought was comforting to Charlie, and she was still upbeat as she left the Olympic Village and headed towards Milan proper to meet Olive.
She had suggested the fancy, upscale restaurant to Olive after reading a few outstanding Google reviews, and she hoped it did not disappoint.
It was clear Olive was used to being the one making all the decisions, so Charlie felt good about being able to help Olive with some of the mental load, if she could.
She hoped she was reading Olive correctly, but even based on their few conversations, she had a feeling that Olive that was not used to having someone else think about her.
Want to be with her, want her, sure. But to take care of her?
Charlie wasn’t sure if Olive recognized that feeling.
Olive was waiting at the entrance to the restaurant when Charlie arrived, stunning in a long dress and cardigan.
“You’re here early,” Charlie said, helpfully.
“I was hungry,” Olive replied.
Charlie was trying not to get distracted by her shiny lip gloss, but she was failing. Instead, she smiled like the dork she was and grabbed Olive’s hand.
“Let’s go inside,” she said.
Charlie gave her name at the desk, the reservation under Charlie Joy, and they were seated inside.
The restaurant was perfect in its dim lighting and fancy flourishes, but Charlie had a hard time trying to commit any of it to memory when her stomach was tense with excitement.
She was possibly more nervous for this date than she had been for her last two hockey games.
When they arrived at their table, Charlie held out a chair for Olive and sat down across from her after Olive had taken her seat.
“Thanks,” Olive said, now that the women were facing each other.
“You’re welcome,” Charlie replied. She still had that ridiculous grin on her face, but she didn’t want to stop it.
She was going to say something equally ridiculous, but was thankfully stopped by the waiter who approached the table.
“How are we doing this evening, ladies?” Charlie tried not to cringe at the question.
“Wonderful, thanks,” Olive answered for them.
“Anything to drink?” the waiter asked, after they poured water into the two glasses already on the table.
“Yes, maybe a bottle of wine for the table?” Olive looked to Charlie as she asked, and the waiter followed Olive’s gaze. Charlie nodded.
“Great, white or red?”
“Red, please.”
The waiter nodded and left as quietly as they had appeared. Charlie took a sip of her water and tried to centre her thoughts.
“So, how does it feel to win another game? Are you tired of all those victory laps?” Olive asked playfully.
“Same as always, and no, I will never get tired of those victory laps,” Charlie responded, in a slightly better mood.
“What do you think will happen next? Sorry, I have no clue how all this works, I’m just following along for the hot players.”
“The hot players appreciate your support. And basically, as long as we keep winning, we’ll go to the finals.”
“Who do you think you’ll be playing against then?”
Charlie hummed, both delighted by the question and thoughtful.
“Well, it’s always hard to predict, but the last few big games usually come down to Team USA vs.
Team Canada. It’s kind of a toss-up then, but I like to think that Team Canada will definitely win.
It doesn’t help that a lot of the players on both teams are very familiar with each other’s play styles, since there’s usually a bit of crossover on professional leagues, including in the PWHL. ”
Olive nodded. “And that’s where you play normally, right?”
“Yes, and on Team Canada internationally when needed.”
“Cool.” Olive said it in a way that made Charlie believe that it was actually cool, which she had not felt in a while.
It was an interesting reminder that while many of the people in Charlie’s circle thought hockey was a normal, everyday part of life, there was a whole world out there who didn’t even know about it.
“I think we’ll win, no matter which country it’s against,” Charlie said.
The conversation was interrupted by the waiter reappearing to introduce the wine and pour a glass for each of them. The waiter soon left, and Olive held up her glass.
“Well, cheers to another winning game,” she said.
Charlie clinked their glass with hers. “And to many more.”
Not normally a wine drinker, Charlie had no clue what to make of the taste, but at least it went down smoothly, and did not feel as horrible as she often thought wine did.
“Really, the only thing that matters this season is winning against Blake. Everything else is just the cherry on top,” Charlie said.
It was a half-truth. She needed to win the season to prove her father wrong, but winning against Blake was a more primary goal.
They could use a blow to the ego every now and again.
“Blake, your teammate?” Olive asked.
Charlie nodded.
“You seem really close, at least from the footage and videos I’ve seen.”
“We are,” Charlie said. They wanted to tease Olive for clearly doing her research, but the hockey player decided to keep it classy, for now.
“In case you can’t tell, I’m pretty reserved.
It’s always been hard to make friends on my teams, I take the game a little too seriously for most people.
When Blake joined the Toronto Succubi, they basically annoyed me into being their friend, and they haven’t stopped. ”
“That’s so cute.” Olive was looking at Charlie now as if she were a lost puppy, a look she had seen many times on Blake’s face.
“Blake would agree with you,” Charlie said, and shook her head. “Don’t tell them this, but they taught me a lot about life, and just not taking everything too seriously. I mean, I still am basically a robot, but it’s less intense these days… though I think you’re partially to blame for that.”
“I’ll take the credit, but I don’t think it’s all owed to me,” Olive said.
Charlie smiled, unsure of what else to say that wouldn’t be too cheesy. She opened the food menu and quickly glanced at the options.
“Should we actually decide what to eat soon?”
“Probably,” Olive said.
By the time they had settled on far too much pasta, the waiter had conveniently reappeared to take their order. With the table clear of menus, Olive put an elbow on it to lean in closer to Charlie.
“Do you mind if I ask you something?” she asked.
Charlie’s stomach, which had just calmed down from its early nerves, started its looping again.
“Of course,” she responded.
“Did you mind when I called you a good girl last time?”
Charlie was glad she wasn’t drinking anything, for she would’ve surely choked on it. Was this a conversation to be having in public?
“I mean, you can call me whatever you want…” Charlie trailed off.
Olive laughed and reached out for Charlie’s hand, which Charlie happily gave.
“No, I don’t mean about the bedroom talk. I mean, are you okay being referred to as a girl?”
Charlie thought about the question some more. “I guess?”
Olive shook her head. “Don’t take this the wrong way, I’m just good at reading people. And I think you probably have more in common with Blake than you realize.”
“Oh.” Charlie was unsure how to respond to that. This clearly was a question about gender, which was a topic that Charlie had not allowed herself to think about. Any grand realization that involved not being able to play on a woman’s team was likely out of the question.
“Sorry if that was out of line,” Olive hastily added. She squeezed Charlie’s hand for emphasis. “I’m asking because I want to know more about you. All of you.”
How could Charlie not fall for Olive when she said stuff like that?
“I know,” Charlie said, meaning it. “I mean… I did see this meme once that compared gender to a religion or spiritual practise. I guess the best way I can phrase it is that I was raised to practice womanhood but I’m a non-believer now.
Maybe when I retire from sports, I can think about it more seriously. ”
“That makes sense,” Olive said. “We can talk about it another time if you’d like, I just want to make sure I’m being respectful to you and calling you by what you want to be called.”
Charlie nodded and lifted her hand away from Olive’s to take a sip of her drink.
It was so caring that Charlie didn’t know how to even respond.
She had never had anyone ask her about it, or even acknowledge that maybe it was a thing they should be talking about.
For some reason, that made her tear up. For the self she could not be quite yet, and the person that Olive was already seeing before Charlie herself could start to acknowledge it.
“Let’s talk about something else,” Charlie said when she finally calmed down a little. “I feel like that’s enough deep conversation about me. What about you? What’s your suppressed trauma?”