Stay, Stay, Stay || Sidney Crosby

Sixty-Four

He arrived during the few hours of the night I was asleep, slipping into his side of the bed and wrapping his big arms around me. I felt him holding me, but it didn't immediately register that I'd fallen asleep without him. When it dawned on me a few seconds later I felt panic take over my body. Startled, I pushed away the arm draped over mine and sat up, flicking the lamp on.

"What are you doing?" I hissed after I'd realized it was him. He was quietly laughing as I tried to catch the breath I'd lost being awaken so rudely in what I thought was my empty house.

"I'm sorry," he giggled and moved towards me. "I didn't mean to wake you." Beside us Lachlan stirred and I counted the seconds until the crying began. Seven seconds later his wails filled the room and I reached for him like it was the most natural of reflexes. "Shoot, I was really trying to avoid this," Sid gave me a side hug and rest his head on my shoulder while I tried to offer Lachlan a boob to pacify him.

"It's okay, it's unavoidable," I sighed, trying to get the baby's attention. My heart was still pounding in my chest. "C'mon buddy," I groaned already frustrated by his refusal to even consider the breast.

"Here," Sid held out his arms and I passed the red faced screaming mini-human to him. "Hey Spuddy!" he cooed and jiggled his arms gently. Within seconds the crying had dissipated and Lachlan was quiet, watching his father with his inky blue eyes.

"Great," I snorted a little bitter that after weeks away Sidney could just swoop in and make him happy like that. "I've already been replaced."

"If it's any consolation I'd never reject your boob like that," Sid remarked sweetly while I watched them, exhausted. He had far too much energy for the late hour of the night and I couldn't muster up the strength to do much more than give him a slight smile. "Go back to sleep, I've got him for a bit."

And that was our romantic reunion. No I missed you, no I love you, not even a kiss. Just few short exchanges and sleep. When I woke up to feed Lachlan again he'd been returned to his bed beside me and Sidney was fast asleep. I let him sleep for most of the morning while Lachlan and I went about our regular routine of feedings, crying jags, and diaper changes. I'd almost forgotten he was home until he meandered his way down the stairs at half past noon.

"Hey, Spud," he flopped down on the couch beside us and immediately reached for Lachlan from my arms without acknowledging me. Lachlan had just eaten and was in that stage between awake and asleep, his little eyelids struggling to stay open and his head leaning to the side.

"Try not to wake him," I warned, getting to my feet and adjusting my old sweatshirt and leggings. "I'm going to shower if you're alright alone." I looked down at him wanly, there was a sort of coldness between us that I was struggling to navigate my way around. He nodded, barley taking his eyes off of the baby and I left the room heading up the stairs to our bathroom.

I was happy that he was so bonded with Lachlan, I really was. I loved seeing him so invested in his son and so comfortable handling him. I knew it could be worse, he could be disinterested and want nothing to do with him, but there was still a feeling of neglect when he reached for Lachlan before acknowledging me. I stood in the showering knowing my thoughts were neurotic and irrational, they had been for weeks, but his little actions seemed to fuel my suspicion that I wasn't as important to him as he was to me. I scrubbed the filth from two days without a chance to shower off of me with urgency. In some way I hoped the vigorous washing would somehow cleanse away the rest of the problems in my life, like the fat would dissolve under the power of my body wash, and my insecurities would disappear into the steam from the hot water. I didn't want Sidney to see me like this, so riddled with hate for myself and so unsure of him. I wondered how long I would have to stay under the hot spray of the shower for the world outside to change. Couldn't I just hide until everything had been sorted out?

Eventually the water turned cold and my once safe place turned unpleasant forcing me out into my real life. Sid was still in the living room where I left him when I emerged from the bedroom wearing new cleaner leggings and a puke free top. He was enthralled with Lachlan, barely noticing I'd entered the room. It reminded me of going to bars with Serena when we were younger, and the way men would flock to her leaving me on the sidelines hoping for a glimmer of attention. I sat down on the chair across the room and picked at the pile of clean laundry I'd been trying to fold for days.

"Why are you ignoring me?" I asked him finally, after five minutes of torturous silence.

"I'm not ignoring you," he looked up from Lachlan and for a split second I almost believed him. "I'm just putting off the inevitable conflict."

"What?" I dropped the onesie I was folding and watched him avoid my eye contact.

"I'm not stupid, Beatrice. I know you've spent the last few weeks stewing in your anger—despite the happy face you've put on for me. So I knew as soon as I got home we were going to end up duking it out and I wanted to enjoy some time with my son before you tell me what a horrible father and husband I am."

His words were sharp and pierced through me violently. I hadn't been expecting that. Maybe it was my own naivety, maybe I should have known that a storm was brewing, but his reply had caught me off guard and I was left sitting with a pile of laundry in front of me staring at him like an idiot.

"Are't you going to say something? Yell at me maybe?" He walked over to the swing in the corner and placed the sleeping baby safely in it. "C'mon Beatrice, you've never held back before." He was egging me on, like he was looking for a fight.

"I don't know what to say," my voice broke at the last word and I felt the tears starting to burn my eyes. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because if we don't have this conversation now, it's all going to resurface in a few weeks anyway and I'd rather get it out of the way." He sat back down and folded his hands in his lap, looking perfectly calm and rational.

"What conversation?" my voice was strained and I sounded desperate.

"The one where you tell me how angry you are at me for going without you, and how unhappy you are and how absent I am."

"That's not it at all," I almost laughed, tears still actively coming from my eyes.

"Isn't it?" he challenged.

"You don't want to be with me anymore do you?" I asked, not really wanting to know the answer. I put off telling him about Simon because I knew it would halt this conversation that seemed so important to him.

"What's that supposed to mean? Just because I go away for work you think I don't want to be with you?"

I took a few breaths to focus myself before replying. This was the make or break moment. I had to let him know that I knew about the woman in the pictures and no matter the outcome I had to be ready to be okay.

"I love you so much it physically hurts. I don't mean the postpartum pain, I mean my heart. It aches and pulsates as if it's only purpose is to beat to keep me here with you. But I swear to god if you've found someone else just leave. Because I don't want to do this. I'm not going to beg you to stay with me. I cannot and will not be your second choice." It spilled out of me into the room for him to take in and digest, to examine and do with what he wanted.

Neither of us spoke and I tried to watch him, searching for clues but ended up staring at my feet instead. I didn't want to have to decipher his expressions, I wanted him to respond clearly and so I knew what my next move was. I was ready to take his silence for my answer and bile was rising in my throat when he finally spoke.

"I'm trying to figure out where you would get the impression that there was someone else or I didn't want to be with you. But I really have no idea what you're talking about." He was either a fantastic liar or I was the biggest idiot to walk the earth.

"The girl, Sidney! The one who was photographed with your parents, the one you had your arm around after the game!" My panic and anxiousness came out as anger and I was surprised the volume of my voice didn't wake Lachlan.

"Oh fuck," he groaned and once again I felt sick, as if I had the answer I'd been dreading.

"I can't believe it," I cried. I didn't bother to wipe the tears and snot from my face and instead got to my feet.

"Wait!" He stood up as I made my way to the stairs. "Nothing happened. It's not like that. She's an ex. I didn't think she'd get photographed."

"An ex?" I questioned. "And how could you possibly think that you and your parents weren't going to be photographed at the games? Sidney, everything you do in the hockey world is documented!"

"I know," he shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "It was stupid. I saw her at another event and she wanted to see the game. She's dating a skier now. We had dinner. That was it."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I wiped at my eyes with the back of my sleeve. I still wasn't sure if I should believe him, but I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"Because I felt bad. I know you don't want to hear about my past relationships and you were home alone. Why would I rub it in by telling you about her getting to go to the game?" He took a step towards me.

"So you were just going to keep it from me?" I pulled my arms tightly around me not wanting him to touch me.

"No, I was going to tell you when things had calmed down a bit and you were feeling better."

"Who is she?" I sighed. I didn't want to know, but I needed to. If I was going to believe him I needed more information.

"Her name is Stassi," he began and I snorted at how typical it was. All pretty girls had names like that. Exotic, luxurious names that made mine seem pathetic and immature. "We were together on and off for a little under two years. We broke up for good in September of 2009 and I haven't really seen her since."

"What's she like?" I moved back and sat on the stairs. Sidney joined me, squishing himself on the step beside me. My body stiffened with him so close to me, but I eventually felt myself relax under the heat of his leg pressed against mine.

He shrugged. "Pretty average I guess. She's a personal shopper at some fancy department store. Nice, but she's no Beatrice Keller."

"Keller-Crosby," I corrected him trying to bite back my smile. I didn't want him to know I was already on my way to forgiving him. Part of me was relieved to hear it was nothing but another part of me was humiliated that I'd actually convinced myself he was cheating on me, that his parents were okay with it.

"Oh right," he laughed and took my hand in his. "It really was nothing though. I should have told you. I'm sorry. But how could you possibly think I would cheat on you? Do you really not trust me?"

"It's not that," I sighed. "There was just a lot going on the day I found the articles. It was bad timing." I knew I had to tell him but I'd been doing such a good job avoiding it all.

"What happened?" he squeezed my hand. His brows crinkled together and he looked at me worried.

I didn't want to bring it all back up. I regretted even mentioning anything because once he knew I was going to have to deal with it instead of ignoring it all and pretending that life back home in Canada was going on as usual.

"Simon was in a car accident," I began. I told him the same medical facts I'd recited to Serena, only this time adding the updates. He'd been in a coma since he got to Halifax. They'd operated a few times and now it was just a waiting game to see how his body would respond. It could be weeks until he woke up, if he woke up. There was a chance I could lose my big brother.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sid said after I'd explained everything, my head now resting on his chest and his damp from my crying. He'd dropped my hand and that arm was now holding me against him. His free hand was clenched tightly in a fist and I could feel his tension

"I didn't want to bother you," I spoke quietly. "I didn't want what was happening here to distract you from the games." It sounded dumb when I said it out loud, like I was a child.

"That's so silly," Sidney echoed my thoughts and held me a little tighter. "Why would you do that to yourself? You don't need to be a martyr, Beatrice." In a way he was right, but I had to remind myself that this wasn't entirely my fault and he was oversimplifying. For months all I'd been hearing about was Sochi and how important it was that he lead Canada to the podium, so could he really blame me for not wanting to distract him.

"I was scared," it came out muffled against his chest and I hoped he wouldn't actually hear me.

"Of me?" he clenched his fist tighter and I could hear his irritation.

"It's not just about you," I pulled away from him, suddenly feeling suffocated. "It's about so much more." I pulled myself to my feet and started to pace, feeling the panic suck me in. My head was suddenly spinning with chaotic and disorganized thoughts- Simon was going to die, Lachlan could be hurt, I had to finish the laundry, I looked like shit, Simon was going to die, Sidney was going to leave me, Simon was going to die, I was going to be alone. I couldn't control them or adjust the speed, they just kept coming at me fast and faster. Everything felt too bright, like the light was coming down on me and I didn't know how to behave anymore. The walls were closing in, it hurt to breathe and Simon was going to die, Lachlan could be hurt, Sidney would leave me.

I kept pacing, trying to pull myself back to reality and soothe my overactive amygdala. Back and forth in the same area of the foyer while Sidney sat on the stairs watching me and the crazed look in my eyes. He was saying something, I could see his lips moving, but my mind wouldn't let me hear him, the thoughts were too loud. Everything kept getting brighter and brighter and I couldn't catch my breath no matter how hard I tried. The images of Simon in the hospital bed and Helen crying burst back into my mind, this time joined by the memory of my mother crying, and then came Serena crying, and Sara's purple features, Geno's broken heart, Sidney's face when I told him it was over, the look in Max's eyes when I left him alone in his hotel room, Millie's tears in my kitchen when she told me how unhappy she was, Beau's anxiety when he admitted he was on medication, Sidney's reaction to my confession in the hospital. There was so much hurt and pain cycling through the tight space of my already overloaded mind. Knowing Sid was watching me didn't help matters but I was too dizzy and out of sorts to tell him to leave.

It felt like the sky was falling, dropping down on me in chunks and covering my body in soot and darkness. No matter what I tried to do I couldn't dodge the pieces plummeting towards me and I was ready to submit myself to the horrific thoughts when he finally got up from his place on the stairs. I felt him before I saw what he was doing, his arms wrapped tightly around me, pinning mine to my sides. He stopped me from moving, kept me in place and squeezed just tight enough that I could feel him. He was silent for the first few minutes, just holding me steady while my mind spiralled and my breathing felt struggled.

When he finally did speak though, he didn't try to calm me down or ask me to talk about it, instead he whispered, "This will pass," in my ear and gently guided us to the couch.

There were days when I recon I spent more time crying than Lachlan did. Sidney would come home from a game or practice to find us on the couch, both sobbing, no one knowing who had started first. The first few times he'd been worried, rushed to my side and begged me to tell him what was wrong, but eventually he became unfazed by my tears and I was the girl who cried wolf. Some days I would try to explain what I was feeling, usually in the minutes before he fell asleep and I would sneak out of the room with Lachlan and sleep in the spare room so as not to disturb Sidney's required 8 hours. But he either didn't understand or didn't really want to know, because the conversations always ended with a sort of empty feeling like I'd been saying all the wrong words. Feeling wrong wasn't foreign to me though, everything I did felt horribly off and every cry from Lachlan seemed to reinforce that idea in me. If I was a better mother he wouldn't cry so often, I thought. If I wasn't screwing everything up we'd both be happier. The guilt I felt for not enjoying every moment with him overwhelmed me. I was supposed to be savouring his life and instead I was miserable. It seemed like I was just living to survive, meeting both of our basic needs but hardly flourishing.

On the nights between games, when Sidney wasn't insistent on following his precise routine that no longer fit with our lives, I'd watch him with Lachlan, talking to his son, trying to coax out a smile. Those were the nights I felt the soul crushing weight of jealousy. It was devastating to see him enjoying parenthood while I was in the coldness of my own discontent. It seemed that no matter how hard I tried I simply couldn't reach that state of bliss that seemed so common among new mothers. It was like Christmas all over again, I was supposed to be happy, but it was as if I'd somehow missed the how-to memo.

I was suffering in silence as the second part of the season progressed. Trying not to impact Sidney as much as possible. Simon was awake, but unlike in the movies it wasn't a miraculous awakening. He didn't open his eyes and sudden go back to being himself. From what my grandmother told me he was still a long way from recovering and there was a chance he'd never be the same. His brain injury wasn't the worst it could be, but even weeks after waking up he still wasn't fully responsive. I had considered flying home to be with them but I selfishly wondered if I could handle it all. My mother, Helen, Felix, and Big Bea were staying at our house and I knew there was a chance it could be more chaotic than I could handle. On top of that I hadn't even started the process for getting Lachlan a passport, probably because I was still trying to wrap my head around the idea that my son was American while his father and I were both very proud to be Canadian.

"Beatrice?" Beau knocked on the nursery door and poked his head in the room. It was a sunny afternoon in the final days of March and Sidney was off doing some promotional gig that he hadn't shared the details of.

"Come in," I smiled at him weakly, care to make sure I didn't change the steady rocking pattern in the chair that had helped Lachlan fall asleep.

"What are you up to?" he leaned against the wall beside the door, careful not to disturb us.

"I'm scared if I stop moving he'll wake up," I admitted.

Beau nodded and let out a low chuckle. "That makes sense," he agreed. "He tends to like to cry when he's awake doesn't he?"

"Mhm," I tried to push the guilt that crept up on me, the voices inside my head telling me he only cried because I was a horrible mother.

"But I guess that's what babies do," he quickly added, perhaps realizing my self-doubt. "Hey, do you want me to watch him for a bit?" Beau offered out of the blue.

"That's okay," I replied immediately.

"Are you sure? I can hang out with him for a bit so you have have a break. I haven't seen you leave the house in days." He took a few steps closer and looked down at Lachlan. His offer was tempting. I couldn't remember the last time I'd left the house without a baby wrapped to me, in fact, I'd never left him alone with anyone other than Sidney. Speaking of Sidney, I glanced at the Peter Rabbit clock on the wall, he was due home in less than an hour. The offer was more enticing by the second.

"You're not just saying this because you feel like you should? Are you actually willing to watch him alone?"

"No," he laughed. "I'm serious. You need to get out of this place. Spud and I will be fine for a few hours." Beau stroked his finger along Lachlan's tiny nose causing him to smile in his sleep and snort softly.

"Okay," I stood up before he could change his mind and handed over the pyjama clad infant, praying he wouldn't wake up.

Once they were settled and I'd rattled off a list of reminders for Beau, I raced down the stairs and pulled my brightly decorated suitcase from the back of the closet. There was only one place I wanted to go, and if anything would help me find myself again, it was strapping eight wheels to my feet and slamming my body into whoever I could find.