The Tales of a Professional Hockey Player

Chapter 16: Suit

~Ben~

Last night, Eleanor and I went to the ice cream parlor with Ophelia, and, for the first time in my life, someone asked for my autograph. It was a young boy of about eleven years of age and he was wearing a Canucks jersey with the number eighteen in the back. If I remember correctly, the number eighteen belongs to a guy from British-Columbia. I can't recall his name, but I'm pretty sure that it's why the young boy wore his number. I know that's what I did. The first jersey I wore whose name in the back wasn't mine was Steven Fisher's. He was from our town and I adulated him more than anyone else, even more than I did my father. It was autographed. I think I slept with that shirt for much longer than I'd admit to anyone. Anyway, I signed my first autograph last night, and, before he left, the boy told me he wanted to be like me one day. All he sees is that I made it pro, he doesn't see everything around it, the sacrifices, the compromises. All he sees is someone whose dream came true. I told him that if he really put his mind to it, he was going to make it. Because that's what Steven Fisher told me when I told him I wanted to be like him one day.

"Do you think I should have told him to quit? Save him the trouble," I asked Eleanor as we watched him walk away.

"Do you regret it? Trying so hard?" she asked instead of answering me. I didn't know the answer to that. I really didn't and I still don't.

"No," I said, watching the proud smile on the boy's face as he showed his mother the signed jersey.  "I regret some of the things I did to make it were I am, but I don't regret following my dream." That part was true, but I sometimes wonder if it was worth it. If everything I sacrificed or lost was worth making it to the NHL.

"You know, Ben, I don't regret one single thing you and I did for hockey, not one. I would do it all over again if it meant seeing your dream come true," she said, her hand rubbing circles on my arm.

"Thank you. For everything I never thanked you for. Moving to Windsor, the baby and all the rest." Slowly, after I said those words, her hand started moving lower on my arm until her fingers brushed mine. She stopped moving and we stayed there until she had to pull away to clean Ophelia's strawberry sorbet covered face. I can't say that something has changed since then apart from the fact that Eleanor called me to tell me she made pancakes for breakfast this morning and that she insisted on us eating together. I had to leave shortly after to go work out with Alex and pick up Olive to go to my suit fitting, and, for the first time since I moved in with her in New York, she told me to have a good day.

I am used to wear suits. I have worn suits ever since I was about eleven. But my suits were always the same colors. Black or navy blue. So, my face, when I saw the pale grey suit I have to wear to the wedding, was, how can I say this, easily readable. Olive erupted in the biggest fit of laughter I ever heard from her. We are at the store where they had all the clothes made, but I didn't know it included a suit for me. "You're with the maid of honor," Josephine told me on the phone. "You have to match with the other best men." But I am not a best man. And I am not with the maid of honor. Not officially at least. I dropped it, not wanting to offend the future bride. I hung up the phone, promising myself that, if I ever get married, I won't force anyone to wear matching suits and dresses. 

"You're kidding me?" I tell her, pointing at the baby blue button-up that goes with the ensemble. She shakes her head, still laughing uncontrollably. We are here to make the final touches on my suit and Olive insisted on coming with me to let Eleanor take care of Ophelia, but I assume it's because she wanted to see my face when I saw the suit.

"You should see El's dress. It's the same shade of blue and it has small grey pearls in the bottom. Her face pretty much matched yours." El's appointment was a few days ago, but I don't remember hearing her complain about her dress.

"Did she have a mini one made for Oph?" I ask secretly hoping for the answer to be no, but Olive nods, laughing once again. I grab the suit and head for the cabins. "Let's get this over with, shall we?"

After about an hour of trying to stand still as an old lady measured and pinned the tissue so it fit me perfectly and another hour of listening to Olive laugh and say that if it continues, she'll wet her pants, I am finally back in my own clothes. I walk through the store, hoping to find a new shirt to wear to the rehearsal dinner tonight. Olive, who was supposed to help me is too busy scrolling through the many pictures she took of me in my ugly suit, so I am pretty much on my own. I spot a black button-up and leave Olive in the tie section to go check it out.

"Not black, Ben. You always wear black." I hear her say out loud from the other end of the store. Her face changes when she points a pink one with what looks like white birds as she starts laughing again. "So, you go with tomorrow's ugly theme."

"You are absolutely useless," I state but laugh anyway.

"El's dress for tonight is pink, like a pale pink. Grey or white should go well with it," she says, raising two different shirts that fit what she just said. "Would someone who is useless tell you that?" she asks, winking.

"Is there a reason why my shirt should match with Eleanor's dress?" I ask, pointing at the grey shirt with small white dots she's holding in her right hand. She raises her shoulders and places back the other shirt in the rack.

"There's always a reason for you to match with Eleanor. Who knows, Ben, who knows," she answers, winking again. "Small or medium?" she asks, rumbling through the pile of button-ups. I have no idea what she meant by saying that, but it made my heart skip a beat. I know Olive spent the day with Eleanor two days ago. Did Eleanor mention something to her and Olive is now hinting something at me? I end up buying the grey shirt in medium. "Wear the black tight but not too tight pants you have. It'll go well with the shirt, ok?" Olive told me when I dropped her off at her and Alex's place. "And have fun," she screamed as I was backing up in their driveway.

The rental car we have is newer than any car I've ever driven. It even has that feature that lets the car break for you, and it has a rearview camera. Going from our old car with the "water" stains and the fear of it not starting to this has made me want to invest in a new car. I started looking for new cars online until I remembered that I now live in New York City and that a car is more a burden than a necessity, so I enjoy this wonderful car while I can. I told Eleanor I'd pick her up before going to the dinner since Ophelia's car seat is already installed in the rental. I park on the street in front of her house, and get out of it, leaving the keys in it since I won't be long. I would have never done that in my parents' neighborhood but seeing the cars parked in the driveways, I have no fear that no one who lives here will want to steal ours. I check myself in the car window, inhaling deeply as I put a strand of my hair back in its place.

It takes me a few seconds to decide if I knock or not. Only a few years ago, I wouldn't have hesitated. I would have knocked at the same time as I opened the door. Now, as my knuckles hit the strong wood, I am unsure of what the person who'll open the door's reaction will be. My thoughts are answered almost immediately when Eleanor's father opens the door. He is holding Ophelia on one hip and he extends one of his hands for me to shake with a simple nod of his head and a smile. I gladly take it and answer his silent greeting. As soon as she sees me, Ophelia extends her arms in my direction.

"Hey, baby," I say as I take her from Thomas' arms. She's wearing a white dress with navy stripes. A small red flower that matches her headband is pinned right above her heart.

"Eleanor will be down in a minute." I nod and thank him. "I'm glad she invited you," he adds with a small smile.

"Me too," I answer, but I am cut off when we hear footsteps coming down the stairs. We both turn in her direction, but I am the only one who is speechless. She is absolutely splendid in her long pale pink dress. The thin straps allow me to gaze over her shoulders and the heart-shaped neckline shows just enough without being too revealing. She completed her look with white sandals and a silver necklace, leaving her hair floating above her shoulders. I could stand there watching her for days, and, from the way she stares back at me, I think she could too. Unfortunately, we have to leave now, or we will be late.

"You look amazing," I stay with a stutter. Her cheeks redden and her gaze drops to the floor as she thanks me.

"You two look like you're going to prom or something," her father intervenes from afar.

"It's the prom we never had," I say, my eyes not leaving Eleanor's.

1K!!! Thank you all for reading xx