Chapter 5 #3
“Doesn’t mean you can’t at least try to be civil,” Avah says, daring me with her gaze. “Or is that term lost on you completely?”
“So that was Michelle right?” Lindgren interrupts from next to me, a glint in his eyes.
“Melissa,” I correct him, taking another bite. “Who’s Michelle?”
“She looks like a Michelle,” Lindgren says, shaking his head. “Or a Mandi. With an ‘i’.”
Avah looks between me and Lindgren, her expression a mixture of disappointment and anger.
“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?” she asks. “The poor guy is living with you because he needs a mentor on the team. And now you’re leading him over a cliff.”
“Whoa,” I say, pointing to Lindgren with my fork. “He’s a grown man, who can make his own decisions. And I’m not leading him anywhere. I’m over here, minding my own business. Unlike some people.”
“Well,” she says, setting her knife and fork down with a bit more force than needed, “we can’t help but mind your business when you conduct it at the dinner table.”
“Come one, what’s wrong with Melissa? She’s nice enough.” I know if given the chance, Avah could write books about what’s wrong with the women I choose to date.
This time Hannah turns to me. “Why don’t you date a nice girl, Declan?”
Unable to keep a frown from my face, I ask, “A nice girl? What’s a nice girl?”
“My mom always said I should marry a nice girl,” Lindgren says, while still chewing his food. “I’m not sure what that means, but I intend to do that. She’s my mom and she gives great advice.”
“A nice girl is someone who’s not like the ones you’ve had,” Nikolai says, his voice gruff. “You know, not just a one-night stand. You marry the nice girl because she’s someone you’re not ashamed to introduce to your mother.”
“Whoa…” I say, setting down my own cutlery at the sound of the word ‘marry’. “How did we get to marriage? I just want someone who’ll cheer me on, who’ll keep me company, and who’ll show up when I ask her to. Three easy things. And no one is meeting my mother.”
“Why not?” Avah asks, a devious smile on her face. “Scared?”
“Of what?” I bark.
“That’s what I’d like to know?” she asks, trying and failing to look like she’s posing an innocent question. “Is a long-term commitment too scary for the playboy defenseman?”
I move my feet beneath the table again, this time intentionally hitting hers in the process.
“It’s not scary, it’s just unrealistic,” I answer truthfully. “Marriage is a farce.”
I feel Hannah stiffen beside me and I quickly turn to her. “No offense to you guys, of course,” I quickly add, attempting a smile at both Hannah and Lucas. They’ll find out the truth on their own at some point.
“Uhm…” EJ starts, quirking his eyebrow.
“Nobody stays married,” I go on, ignoring the tightening tension around the table.
“It’s unnatural. The passion fizzles out, someone wants more than the other can give, one starts sleeping around,” I say with a frown and a gesture.
“Two clear-headed adults should be able to recognize the truth about life and make an agreement that suits everyone’s needs. ”
“Another five points for romance,” EJ says, nodding and taking a giant bite of steak.
Maybe I shouldn’t have shared my entire philosophy on relationships right here at the dinner table, but it’s out now. It might make them understand me a bit better, and then they can adjust their expectations.
“Not everyone is like that,” Hannah says, her voice filled with sympathy for some reason. It’s not received well. In fact, it reeks of condescension.
“Oh no?” I ask, turning to her.
She’s a picture perfect wife, all innocence and big eyes, but I refuse to believe even she’s that delusional to believe marriage is rainbows and roses. Perhaps she hasn’t seen enough yet.
“My parents are still married,” Hannah says matter-of-factly. “And Lucas’s dad worshipped the ground his mom walked on before she got sick.” Lucas nods in agreement before taking Hannah’s hand and squeezing it. “I know he wishes she was still here with him.”
“Our parents are still married,” EJ says, looking at his sister next to him. “Thirty years now, right?” he asks Avah and she nods.
She isn’t looking at him or me or anyone. Instead her entire demeanour has changed, almost like she’s retreating into herself.
“Mine too,” Lindgren says with a mouth full of food. “I know for a fact my dad wouldn’t survive without my mom. He’d lose his own head if it wasn’t attached to his body. She takes care of him even when he drives her insane.”
All of their words are like a foreign language. Like the Canucks hoisting the Stanley Cup…completely unexpected and out of place. My gaze flicks back to Avah, wondering what she’s hiding. If she was in complete agreement with them…she would’ve used this opportunity to hurl something at me.
Instead she’s hiding.
“Let me get this straight,” I ask, meeting the gazes of my teammates around the table. “You’re suggesting I get married and settle down like Lucas over here?” I ask, unable to keep the sarcasm from my voice. A chuckle escapes me. “Maybe pop out a few kids and drive them to church on Sundays?”
Lucas shakes his head, as he sets down his knife and fork. “Marriage is not something you do on a whim, Dec.”
“Says the guy who got married in Vegas,” I mumble, taking a sip of my cranberry juice.
Cranberry juice. Can you believe it.
“To the woman I’ve been in love with all my life!” Lucas says, staring at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“That doesn't mean anything,” I toss back, the need to defend myself kicking in before I can stop it. “No, offense.”
“That’s twice now…I’m starting to take some offense here,” Hannah says with a smile that’s still kind for some reason.
Lucas looks at me, his frown deepening on his face, before looking at the others. “Is he being serious right now? I can’t tell anymore.”
“He’s a dog in a corner and he wants to bite,” Nikolai says, his voice a sudden relief in the storm of insane perfection and domestication. I forgot for a second that he’s here and my prime example.
“You know what I’m talking about here, Petrov,” I say, gesturing to him. “Your marriage didn’t work out. You’re divorced and living your life.”
His jaw tightens and his eyes grow hard. “True.”
There’s a moment of silence where all you can hear is the cutlery being picked back up, awkwardness hanging over the table. Nikolai doesn’t talk about his failed marriage. In fact, he asked for a trade after he got divorced and now it’s an off-limits topic.
But that doesn’t change the fact that it happened. Which makes it more real than any of their words about perfectly long marriages and devoted spouses.
“But no one said you have to get married. You’d be the kind to screw it up,” Nikolai says with a shrug. “Maybe first try dating a nice girl.”
EJ chuckles. “Declan can’t do dating or nice.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, knowing he’s speaking the truth, but offended all the same. “I’m a nice guy.”
“No, you’re not,” he says, matter-of-factly.
“Jeez,” Lindgren says, leaning back. “Now who’s not being nice?”
“It’s true,” EJ says, looking around the table for back-up. “Look, I’m not insulting your character, Declan. You’re a great teammate, and I’d go to war with you. But being a boyfriend? Or a husband? To a woman?” He shakes his head like the thought is completely ridiculous. “Yeah…no.”
My gaze falls on Avah, meeting her blue eyes and expecting to find disdain or even a smug smile tugging on her lips. Instead I’m met with an expression of uncertainty and sadness. She quickly looks down at her plate, moving her food around with her fork.
For some reason, there’s an itch in my legs, urging me to get up and leave.
“I guess not everyone is marriage material,” I say, my voice sounding strangely resolute.
I’ve seen too many marriages blow up. My mom and dad were exhibit A.
After which she married the next guy, where I inherited two step-siblings.
Then she went on to husband number three.
Now she’s with number four and I’ve long since stopped adding siblings to my birthday calendar.
I’m sticking to the original two even when she didn’t.
So now, the only people I consider my actual family would be Brady and Maddie.
And my Aunt Kat.
None of which are happily married or even close to it.
I push out my chair, just done with everything.
“Well then, I’ll be on my way,” I say, looking at Hannah. “Thanks for dinner, Hannah.”
Her eyes widen before she looks at Lucas who just shakes his head.
“Don’t leave, Dec,” he says. “Sit down and let’s have a good time.”
With one last glance at Avah, who’s eyes are searching mine for a second I shake my head.
“Another time.”
“Hey, you’re my ride,” Lindgren says, scrambling to shovel another bite of food into his mouth.
“Not tonight, Barney,” I call over my shoulder as I leave the dining room. “Call an Uber.”
With that I leave their perfect stories behind. It might be Lucas and his perfect wife and sudden domesticated life, or it might be because Melissa’s phone call didn’t have the relaxing effect it should’ve had. The only excitement I got from it was the reaction from Avah.
Maybe I’m tired of women hanging around me for my jersey, or maybe I’m tired of finding missed calls from my dad, knowing he wants money from me again.
All of it…my entire life…has just somehow snowballed into one loud psycho circus musical that’s playing on repeat inside my mind. Going around in circles…all of it a sick game of give and take.
And the music just keeps getting louder and louder.
So far, the only thing that silences it for a bit is bourbon, or scotch, or anything alcoholic.
A woman helps too. But not by much and not for long.
Sighing, I get in my truck to head home. If it wasn’t for Coach’s warning echoing in my mind, I’d be headed to a bar right now. But tomorrow we play the Wild, and I need to be present. And if it wasn’t for a certain Snowflake’s icy gaze, I’d be on my way to Melissa.
Shaking my head, I start the truck, not willing to dig too deep into the reasons why.