The Tales of a Professional Hockey Player

Chapter 48: 24th

~Ben~

I didn't want to come to BC for the holidays. I wanted to stay at home with Eleanor and Ophelia, and order take-out. I wanted to spend the 24th and the 25th in my pajamas. Maybe the 26th and the 27th too. But, on the 11th, Eleanor and I bought plane tickets after our parents shamed us for not wanting to visit them on Christmas. "You skipped last year because you wanted to be with Eleanor. You can't do the same this year," my mother told me when I tried to convince her that staying in New York for the holidays wasn't a bad thing. I thought about inviting my family over, but then we would have needed to entertain them for a week instead of only spending a day with them which would have been more exhausting then flying over. "We can still spend the 26th and the 27th in our pajamas in our hotel room," Eleanor said to convince me we hadn't lost everything. But, right now, as I am about to knock on my parents' front door, I am convinced we won't spend a joyful evening. I know my father will mention me paying for Megan's next semester at university, and I know it won't be pretty. I count on my mother and on my aunts and uncles to calm him.

My mother engulfs us in a hug as soon as she opens the door. She asked us to arrive early so they could spend time with us before everyone else arrives. She pulls us in the living room that she did her best to decorate. My sister is sitting on the couch, playing with her phone and my father is watching a replay of a game between the Canucks and the Kings. Megan gets up when she sees us, gives Eleanor and I kisses on each cheek before grabbing Ophelia from my arms. Unsure, our baby looks at us with wide eyes until we both smile at her. My mother grabs our coats and leaves the room to store them in a bedroom before I have the chance to say that I could do it myself.

"You look exhausted, dear," my mother tells me when she gets back. The silence only lasted twenty seconds, but it still thickened the air so much it makes it hard to breathe. She pats my back, rubbing the material of my white button-up shirt against my skin. When I look at my father, I know I clash with him. And I'll probably clash with every other man that will walk into my parents' house later tonight. Just like Eleanor clashes with my mother and Ophelia will with every other child.

"Jeez, thanks mom," I chuckle. I know I look like hell. Even my fancy expensive clothes and my perfectly styled hair can't hide how tired I am.

"Exhausted but handsome," she adds with a warm smile. "And you look beautiful, Eleanor." She turns towards my father, her arms around Eleanor and I's waists. "Don't they look great, Rob?" My mother looks hopeful, but her face falls when my father hums without looking at us. "Rob, it's Christmas, come say hi to your son." Reluctantly, my father gets up from his La-Z-Boy to stand in front of me.

"Hello, Benjamin. We're really happy that you decided to grace us with your presence this year. Not like you care." My mother's reaction is immediate. She shouts my father's name and follows him into the kitchen. Eleanor's hand rests on my lower back and her thumb starts rubbing circles against my shirt. I close my eyes, focusing on the contact of her hand on me to try and forget my father's harsh words.

We don't hear what my mother tells him, but she comes back a few minutes later all by herself. No one dares to ask where my father went, but everyone agrees it's time to give Ophelia her presents. We all sit down in a circle on the living room floor close to the Christmas tree. My mother bought her some books that Eleanor immediately opens to show Ophelia the pictures.

"I know it's not much, but..." I reach for my mother's hand, shaking my head.

"She loves books," I start as I try to ignore the tears forming in my mother's eyes. "We'll read them to her before bed every day, right El?" Eleanor nods rapidly, smiling wide. "Thank you, mom." Megan jumps in with her own present for my daughter to save us from my mother's tears. I open the package to find an iPod. I look at my sister with furrowed brows.