The Tales of a Professional Hockey Player

Chapter 49: 25th

~Eleanor~

"Yeah, mom, I told you Ophelia was allergic to eggs." We just walked in my parents' house and my mother tried to stuff a devilled egg in Ophelia's mouth.

"Then it's the caterer's fault. If you told me then I told her." Ben carried Ophelia in the living room to play while I went to the kitchen with my mother to check with the caterer about what food contains eggs. The poor woman who has just been accused of something she didn't do is biting her nails in the back of the kitchen. She'll probably draw blood if no one stops her soon.

"No, mom. Don't put this on the caterer. You either forgot or you didn't pay attention when I told you just like every other time I told you something important." I say this casually, knowing very well that she isn't listening to me more now than she was when I called her to tell her about Ophelia's allergy.

"You're fired," my mother furiously says, looking at the caterer. "And if you think you're getting paid than you're more stupid than I thought." The woman's eyes go from my mother to me. She stopped biting her nails to wipe the tears flowing down her cheeks. "Leave!" my mother shouts. She starts rushing to grab her things, leaving all her equipment in my mother's kitchen.

"Wait!" I take the opportunity my mother gave me by leaving the kitchen to run after the caterer. "What can my daughter eat?" I lower my voice as possible, sounding as soft as I can to not scare the poor woman more than she already is. She enumerates the things that don't contain eggs that is longer than I thought while sobbing.

"Thank you. I'll have my father send you a check or I'll do it myself. Anyway, you're going to get your money. Merry Christmas." I rub the woman's arm, forcing myself to smile as wide as I can. She shouldn't pay for my mother's mistake. The caterer nods before returning the words to me.

I join Ben in the living room to tell him what Ophelia can and cannot eat. We had the same problem yesterday with his family. The food his mother cooked was egg-free, but the cakes and other salads or desserts brought by other family member weren't, so we had to deal with Ophelia' sneaky hands. He nods while yawning. Like I had thought, the past few days were not relaxing at all. Before our dinner with Olive and Alex, Ben went to the arena with Alex after his friend insisted on playing with him now that he has techniques from the NHL. Even if I know he had fun and he had missed playing with Alexander, I also know it didn't help reduce his tiredness. The boys came back to Olive and Alex's place before dinner and Ben looked exhausted. The bags under his eyes ran even deeper and his yawns were more and more frequent. Last night's dinner with his family only aggravated his state. It's not like it was a very intense evening, but the constant tension in his muscles left his energy reserve at zero. And, now, we have to go through one more family Christmas party that won't be casual at all.

Last night, we looked estranged from his family with our chic clothing and our styled hair. Our presents looked more expensive even if they weren't really. But tonight, around my family, we fit in perfectly. Ben's Calvin Klein white button-up and his black dress pants I saw him wear to games and press conferences, my Vera Wang cocktail dress, and Ophelia's pink dress and white leggings blend in with my family's tastes. I saw the BOSS tag on my father's shirt and the Ralph Lauren's horse on my brother's. We all know about the traditional article in my mother's magazine, so everyone dresses accordingly. This year is no exception. Ben and I arrived at the same time as the journalist's van parked in the driveway. It's the same guy as last year, Trevor, not that his name is relevant. I have been watching him move around the house as he tries to be as invisible as possible to get all the candid shots he needs.

"Trevor, come here for a minute," I hear my mother say as I pass along the ball to Ophelia, Ben just threw over to me. We're sitting on the floor in what looks like a triangle; Ben and me on one side trying to catch the ball Ophelia pretty much throws in the middle of us. We are the only adults sitting on my mother's red carpet. All the other parents left their kids to fend for themselves, too interested on making it into the most shots possible.

"Trevor, you remember my daughter, Eleanor? She's William's brother." I share a look with Ben and roll my eyes as a chuckle leaves his lips.

"Yeah, mom, that's how siblings work." I ignore my mother's request to get up from the floor to throw the ball back at my daughter.

"Well, this is her boyfriend, Ben. Ben plays in the NHL." Ben and I nod simultaneously while laughing. Even if I find the situation funny, if she's going where I think she is, I know I'll be mad at her. My mother turns her attention to Ben. "Ben, dear, would you mind doing a little interview for the magazine?" Dear? Did my mother just call him "dear?" I immediately get up before Ben as a chance to say anything. With my heels, I am the same height as my mother which gives me courage for our second confrontation of the evening.

"No, mom, Ben won't do an interview. Two years ago, you didn't even want him in the family picture, but now that he made it pro you want him for an interview? No." I raise my voice to make sure my mother is listening.

"Eleanor, let him talk. That's not why I didn't want him in the family picture. I wasn't sure you two were going to last, that's all. And I was right because you broke up a few months later." Ben makes a move to get up, but, with a move of my finger, he sits back down, on the couch this time. Her answer is like a punch in the gut. It sucks out the last ounce of respect I had for my mother.

"I was pregnant, mom! What other proof of us being in each other's lives forever do you want? Josephine was always in the pictures even if they hadn't been together for that long!" The poor journalist stands between my mother and me, probably wondering what the hell he's doing here. "You were ashamed of him because he didn't fit in what you thought was a successful man! You thought he wasn't good enough for me, but now that he's famous, huh, things have changed," I can't help but add, knowing very well that everyone is now looking at us.

"Enough." The intervention comes from Ben who is still sitting on the couch. He whispered the word. I don't turn to look at him, too enubilated by my anger towards my mother. I knew those feelings were about to come out. I have been keeping them inside for too long now. I just wish it wouldn't have happened on Christmas.

"It's publicity for him too, you know! My magazine reaches a different population than the ads he did so far."

"You're not even denying it!" We're plainly screaming at each other now.

"Enough!" Ben screamed the word now. He got up too. Ophelia is in Will's arms; I see him take her far away from the living room. "I am tired of all the fighting. I'm fighting with you; you're fighting with me. Then, with my father, and you with your mother. I'm fighting with the team to keep me on, and I'm fighting for you to take me back. You're fighting with Hannah and I was fighting with Matthew. We're fighting with Ophelia's doctors for the best treatment for her allergy. We're always fighting, Eleanor, and I am tired of it! I'm so tired." He screamed through his whole speech, except during the last sentence that he whispered. And, just like that, without another look at me, he leaves the room. A few seconds later, I hear the front door slam. 

Well... it had to blow up at one point, right? ;)