Hockey Is My Boyfriend: Part Three (18 page)

BOOK: Hockey Is My Boyfriend: Part Three
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32
Alone Again, Naturally

T
hat Honda commercial actually happened
. Whenever I saw it, I remembered the shoot, which had been pretty brutal. The key was that everything had to be done in one shot, so each take I had to rush up the ice, hit a guy into the boards, take the puck, deke a defenceman, blast the puck top shelf, and celebrate the goal. The hardest part was the end: losing my helmet, flipping my hair, turning to the camera, and saying, “Expect the Unexpected!” Did I mention that this was all in one take?

I had spent several weeks practicing the sequence at open ice sessions. When I did the shoot, they put a ton of makeup on me, and since I was sweating it had to be touched up constantly. Anyway, at the end everyone was really happy with the result. Thanks to the makeup, I looked as pretty as Ed had said I would. I was getting recognized on the street once in a while, which was totally bizarre. I even had a Facebook fan page that some idiot had set up because he had a crush on me. April told me about it when she became a fan.

The best part of the commercial was the money I got—and continued to get—as the campaign ran. Combined with my new salary as temporary producer, I had completely paid off my student debts. I took my parents out to dinner to celebrate this and to thank them for everything they had done to help.

“Isn’t this nice? The three of us having dinner together.” My mother looked happily around Yohachi, our favourite Japanese restaurant. One of our few family nods to Japanese culture was eating out. “We should have invited Phil to come with us.”

I shut my eyes briefly, and then faced the music. “Actually, I’m not seeing Phil anymore.”

“Oh no. But the two of you were getting along so well. What happened?” My mother loved Phil, probably more than I did.

“We broke up.” I realized that this wasn’t a real explanation, but the truth was too complicated.

“Oh, that’s too bad.” My mom looked extremely sad. “So, I guess you’re seeing that other boy then—the hockey player?”

“No, I’m not seeing him either. And before you start guessing the butcher, the baker, or the candlestick maker—I’m not seeing anyone.”

“There’s no need to be snippy,” my mom said in a very snippy tone. “A lovely young woman like you should be dating. You know, I met this nice young man at an art opening the other day….”

“Please, Mom, no fix-ups.” If a guy was under forty and breathing, my mom would think he was a potential date for me.

She shook her head. “But Kelly, if you can’t find—”

“Oh good,” my dad interrupted. “Here’s the food.” He hated discussions like this even more than I did. The waitress distributed our drinks and set out a sashimi appetizer plate. Thankfully, all dating discussion ceased.

“Here’s to Kelly,” my dad said, holding up his beer.

My mom nodded and drank her wine. “Yes, to Kelly. Congratulations. We recorded the hockey game last Saturday so that we could see your commercial.”

“Oh man, wasn’t it a great game?” I said. The Canucks had come back from a three-goal deficit to win in overtime.

My parents both looked down at the tablecloth.

“Well,” my mom hedged. “You know we’re not big hockey fans.”

“Unless you’re playing,” my dad added.

“We fast-forwarded through the game to see the commercials. Anyway, you looked wonderful. And you’re such a good player.” My mom was beaming.

I laughed. Only my parents would do something like that. “Yeah, they had to specially find guys that weren’t too big, so it looks realistic. But it was fun.”

“All our friends have seen it and loved it too. Will you be doing more commercials?” My mom sounded hopeful. Clearly, breaking up with Phil had shattered one of her dreams, and now she was hoping I could redeem myself with a glamourous career.

“It seems pretty unlikely. There’s not a lot of call for female hockey players.”

“Now, Molly, we’re here to celebrate Kelly’s accomplishments in paying off her student loans already. Most kids take years. And you can start saving now. If you want to get into the real estate market in Vancouver, it’s going to take a lot of money.”

“It’s very hard for a
single
woman to buy a place,” my mom said.

My dad had important news. “We wanted to tell you, we’ve settled on our travel dates for next year. We’re leaving on December 29th. So we’ll get to ring in the New Year on the road. We’re travelling through South East Asia for three months and then to Hokkaido in the spring so your mother can start her artist’s residency. Later we’re going to Kyoto as well.”

“It’s the epicentre of Japanese pottery,” my mom interjected.

My dad finished their itinerary. “After our Japan stay, we’ll travel to Australia and New Zealand.”

“Wow, that all sounds incredible.” I felt a little adrift. No matter how much I liked my independence, it was nice to have a safety net. “I’m really going to miss you.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be able to stay in touch,” my mom assured me. “We can e-mail you and call you.”

“And we’ll get to celebrate Christmas together before we go. Roger is coming home as well. One last family holiday.”

Still, I couldn’t shake this feeling of loneliness. I had cut Phil and Jimmy out of my life, and now my family was leaving as well. “I love you guys,” I declared.

“We love you too, Kelly.” My dad wrapped his arm around me. My mom reached across the table to squeeze my hand. “You’re doing well at work, and you’re volunteering as well. You’ve grown into an adult that any parent would be proud of.”

“Kelly’s always been an independent spirit,” my mom declared. “Right from the start, she always wanted to do things herself.”

Alone. That was what I’d always wanted to be, and now I was.

J
ames

W
e were
on a road trip in Canada. First Montreal and then Ottawa. The night before the Ottawa game, I was relaxing in my room with Wheels. The guy had made the transition from Sweden to the United States seamlessly—both in his game and in his busy personal life. We were roommates on the road. He was pretty much my polar opposite. He never worried about a thing and liked to party it up, while I stressed and wanted to get to bed early. But I envied his relaxed ways, and we got along good.

As usual, we were fighting over the remote.

“Fuck, Freeze, you’re always watching hockey. Let’s see what else is on. I like
Entourage
. I think it’s on tonight.”

“We should be watching hockey. It’s our job.”


Ja,
we already watched game video today. We practiced hockey. I think we could use a fucking break. If something big happens, we can watch highlights later. Give me the remote!” He lunged for it, but I yanked it out of reach.

“One more period of the Sens game and then maybe,” I offered.

Wheels cursed and then settled down on his bed. It was only the commercials anyway, and I was going to flip channels when something caught my eye. The hockey player on the television skated and deked in a very familiar way.

Kelly’s face filled the whole screen and she was absolutely beautiful. She was smiling and it was almost like we were looking at each other. Wham, I felt winded. Seeing her so suddenly was like a blow.

“Expect the Unexpected,” her sexy voice purred. No fucking kidding.

Wheels snorted. “Wow, she’s pretty hot. Do you think she actually did all that hockey stuff?”

I sighed. “Yeah, she did. That’s my ex-girlfriend.” I tossed him the remote. “I think I’ll go to sleep now. Keep the volume down, okay?” I started hunting for my earplugs before he could ask me any questions.

Too late. He muted the TV and turned to me. “Really? Your ex is a model and a hockey player?”

“No, she’s not a model.” As far as I knew, she was a receptionist. But the truth was that I had no idea what she was doing now—she could be a model. She never updated her Facebook profile, and we didn’t have any friends in common. The only thing I knew for sure was that she was with Davidson. Thinking about him touching her, holding her, and talking with her was painful too.

“This is good, Freeze. I tell you stuff, but you never give me anything personal. I told you you’re too young for a serious girlfriend, but if you had to—it should be someone fun like her.”

“That’s ridiculous. How can you tell Kelly is fun from seeing her for thirty seconds?”

“I know women. She’s running guys into the boards and coming out laughing. I’d bet twenty bucks that’s she fun.”

I sighed. She was fun. I never knew what she was going to do next. I liked to make her laugh, which I sometimes did by accident. She made me feel younger, which was weird because she was older. And she was into hockey enough that she never made me feel like a freak. I nodded. “I’m not taking your bet, but yes, she is.”

“See? I am always right. So, does this Kelly have a phone number?”

“She’d never date you.” He was kidding around. He was a ladies man, but there was a bro code.

“I already know her standards are not that high,” he said, laughing. “Most guys choose the same kind of girl every time, but your girlfriends are, like, opposite. I can’t believe you broke up with her to go out with Astrid.”

Yeah, anyone would assume I broke up with her—NHL boyfriends were a big score for normal girls. But the truth was too humiliating to confess. “What’s wrong with Astrid?”

He snorted. “Norwegians.”

Oh, this was some Swedish prejudice thing. “She’s not Norwegian now, she’s American. And she’s beautiful.”

“I never said she wasn’t pretty. Not as attractive as Swedish women though.
Ja
, she’s Norwegian all right, she’s always offending someone. And it’s no surprise that she sells alcohol, they’re always getting drunk.” He was on a roll now, and he started talking in his fast, excited way. “She needs to relax even more than you. I can picture her with a stopwatch during sex. Two minutes of sucking your dick, then time to move on to penetration—five minutes and then it must be done. Ha, am I right? You need someone more fun than you—not less. You’re already too tense.”

“So tense I’m going to sleep now. Night.”

I stuck in the earplugs and put the pillow over my head. When I closed my eyes all I could see was Kelly’s face—her smile lit up the whole screen. I had been running this film in my mind for months of all the great times we’d had together. Right up until the last time I’d seen her. Our last night together had been incredible, and we were linked in every way. And now it was like that mental video was updated—Kelly today was as beautiful as ever.

Seeing her so unexpectedly made me feel vulnerable. I had worked hard to get over her, and I was almost angry that she had invaded my safe space. I tried to focus on Astrid and how perfect my life was now—just like I’d always planned.

But that yearning remained. What would it be like if I saw her again? I had already memorized the dates of our games in Vancouver: December 20 and February 7. If I asked to be interviewed by the radio station, it would give me the perfect excuse to go there and see Kelly. But she probably wasn’t even working there anymore. She was doing more exciting things now. She had found a way to combine work with hockey. I always knew she underestimated herself. She could do anything. And if she had come to Chicago with me, she would have seen that on an even bigger scale.

Besides, who was I kidding? If she saw me again, she wouldn’t be smiling like on television. Her face would be blank and cold now—she saved her sweetness for him. I wanted to remember her the way she was before—when she loved me. It was painful to realize how much I still wanted her in my life and how utterly unattainable she was.

33
A Star Is Born

A
s time passed
, I felt more comfortable and confident—both at work and while coaching. I liked my crazy routine. I went to bed early and was into work by 4:30am, so my lack of a social life wasn’t that noticeable. The Organ Donors continued to improve. We were never going to lead the league, but we continued to take pride in every new accomplishment: our first shutout, a power play goal, and our smallest player, Kimmy, scoring her first goal.

One November day at work, we all had to be on our best behaviour because the big brass from Toronto were coming for status meetings, and they would also tour the place.

C2C Sports was part of a national media conglomerate, with multiple radio and television stations. Cheryl told me that all employees could apply for company jobs anywhere in Canada—as long as they were qualified. As much as I loved Vancouver, I was beginning to consider moving. If I went to Calgary, I could hang out with Deirdre. She had assured me I would be able to make her women’s hockey team, which would be awesome. Or in Toronto, there were McGill friends and a women’s pro hockey team. I had chosen to forge my own life, and work was going better than I could have ever dreamed. When Ruby came back in the new year, it would be a different story, but who knew what other opportunities might come up.

The morning of the big corporate inspection, our show was going perfectly. Luckily, the Canucks had won the previous night so there was a lot to talk about, and the guys were being consummate pros. Not one sexist remark had been heard, which made me realize that they did know right from wrong.

The executives filed into the control room, making things rather crowded. Then the network president started staring at me. Was I screwing up in some spectacular way? He motioned for me to take off the headphones and asked, “Aren’t you the girl in the car commercial?”

“Yes, that’s me.” I smiled, but I didn’t look half as good as I did with all the makeup and special lighting.

“And you play hockey?”

“I used to play collegiate at McGill. We won the C.I.S. championships.” We were the reigning champs until March, so I could still brag.

“So, you went to university too?”

“Yes, I have a degree in communications.” It was nice of him to try to get to know all the little people.

“What’s your name?”

“Kelly Tanaka.”

“Kelly, I’m Ross Laurie.” As if I didn’t know that already. We shook hands and then thankfully they left, since the producer can’t exactly take a break in the middle of the show.

There was a ripple of nervousness throughout the station all morning, but once the execs departed to inspect our television brethren, everyone exhaled. After the show, we had the meeting on tomorrow’s broadcast, and then I took a break. I was having a snack in the lunchroom when Arthur Kim came running up to me with the latest gossip.

“Kelly, you’re not going to believe this! I was outside Don’s office, and he was having a loud discussion with the Toronto guys. I heard Don say, ‘I need her here. I’ve invested a lot in her already.’ And then Ross Laurie said, ‘You don’t keep a girl like that on the radio. She’s not even on-air.’”

“Wow, I wonder who they were talking about?”

“Kelly, you dummy! They were talking about you. They want to put you on television, promote you to on-air.”

“What? What job is that?”

“Did you not see the junior reporting job? It’s in hockey, for crying out loud. Girl, you need to be checking the internal job postings.”

This whole situation was too bizarre. It was like getting discovered for a movie while working as a waitress. I saw myself as more of a background person, but I did enjoy the attention that the car commercial had brought. Would even I like to be on TV? Wait, a hockey job? So, I’d get to go to hockey games, talk hockey, and analyze hockey? Well, that would be a dream come true. But I shouldn’t get too excited; you never knew what might go wrong.

Too late. I was already pumped.


W
ow
, that’s a fantastic opportunity!” April was ecstatic. I told her once everything was official. She saw my being on television as a chance for her to pass on all her acting knowledge. “We’ll have to shop for your on-air wardrobe. Of course, once you get a higher profile, you’ll get sponsored by a local designer or clothing line.”

“Really? Someone choosing my clothes and paying for them sounds perfect.”

“I think it’s better to develop your own style. What do you think of a retro look? Little nipped in jackets and pencil skirts.” Leave it to April to turn any happy occasion into a shopping expedition. And I’d never worn a pencil skirt in my life.

“No way. I can’t navigate an arena in a pencil skirt. Unless I wear running shoes with it.”

April shuddered at that thought. “You’re right. I’m projecting. But I have learned a few things being a stylist. We’ll find clothes to reflect your personality.”

“Which is—?”

“Sporty chic.”

“What? Like the Spice Girls?” I didn’t think that neon sports tanks and Adidas pants were going to work.

“Not Sporty Spice—it’s more a tomboy style. I’ll show you in the store, that’ll be easier than us discussing fashion.”

She forced me to go shopping that weekend, with promises of a nice lunch. April’s vision turned out to be something I really liked.

“I love these pants.” They were plain black and rode low on my hips and then flared a little at the bottom. Like boot cut jeans but in nice fabric.

“Yup. I’m going with your natural boyish vibe. We need a belt now.” She rooted around and came up with something with a square silver buckle. Somehow it perfectly tied together the black patterned shirt with the pants.

“Wow, April. You’re so good at this.”

“I know. One thing I’ve learned as a stylist is not to make people look like I think they should—but what makes them comfortable. It’s psychological.” She kept giving me her x-ray stare. “You need a jacket too—something with unique details. But keep your hair down. You need a feminine look for this to work. A nice boot with a short heel and you’re dressed. I wouldn’t mind a little jewellery too.”

“I have a necklace. It was a birthday gift, and I haven’t worn it much yet,” I told her. I had broken up with Jimmy shortly after, so I hadn’t really wanted a reminder of him. But maybe it was time to take it out of the box.

“Okay, show me when we get home. We need to get another pair of pants, and a few more tops, then we’ll be done.”

I groaned. Major damages to my credit card were coming, and I was used to thrifty living. But if I did all the shopping now, I wouldn’t have to worry about clothes for months.

“Okay, but I have to be home in two hours. I’m coaching tonight.”

“Oh right. What are you going to do about your little hockey team when you start your new job?”

“I’ve taken care of things,” I said with regret. I knew my hours were going to be insane, so I had explained to Mark and Henrietta what was happening. They were disappointed, but thrilled for me.

“You can’t miss out on an opportunity like that, Kelly,” Mark said. “Are we going to be seeing you on the Canucks broadcast?”

I shook my head. “I’ll be starting at the bottom.” I didn’t know exactly what I’d be doing since I had yet to meet with anyone from my new job.

I called up Lily, a friend from my minor hockey days, and she agreed to fill in as coach. I would still come to every game that I could, but they wouldn’t be able to count on me.

Henrietta and I discussed what to do about the extra skating sessions. We decided that we had weeded out all the unreliable volunteers, and with a couple of parents to make sure the kids walked the 200 metres from the school to the rink in safety, so the program could run itself now.

“I’m not even sure if we still need the sessions. The kids you’ve been working with are almost as good as the others now. And maybe Mark should run team practices with everyone,” Henrietta said.

“Well, you’ll have Lily to help in any case. And she’s really nice and a good hockey player as well.”

“We’re going to really miss you,” Henrietta said, and Mark nodded.

I felt so guilty leaving mid-season. “I’m really sorry. I’ll still come to all the games I can.” I’d try hard to make games and practices a priority, but so much was uncertain right now.

Cheryl warned me to be ready to work my butt off. She said that the television side was more demanding than radio. And once Ross Laurie had decreed I was going to the TV side, everyone treated me with more respect—even Andy and Randy. Cheryl took care of replacing me, and Ruby called to wish me luck. I was getting so excited. I had called my parents to tell them and they were so pleased.

April managed to wrap up the shopping in only another hour. Then we had a late lunch at this little noodle shop on Main Street. We got home with plenty of time for me to get to the kids’ game. April came to my room to organize my closet.

“Remember, your appearance is important now. You can’t get up five minutes before and throw on anything. Plan your outfits the night before. And iron them.” Living with April had given her too many insights into my true character.

I scrunched up my face, which only drew attention to another flaw.

“I’m going to get a pro to give you a make-up tutorial. The camera is very unforgiving.”

To distract her, I pulled open a drawer and got out the necklace Jimmy gave me. “Here, April. Will this go with my new shirts?”

She squinted at it. “Oh, a Tiffany knock-off. That’s a good one—but I think it may be too glittery for on camera, too distracting.”

“Oh, okay.” I went to put it back in the box. “It’s actually not a knock-off, it’s from Tiffany’s.”

April was beside me in a flash and examined the necklace carefully. If she had a jeweller’s loupe, she would have pulled it out. “Where did you get this?”

“Jimmy gave it to me for my birthday. He told me it wasn’t expensive though.”

“Oh, that explains it. But it
is
expensive—I would say it’s worth four grand at least. These are diamonds on a platinum setting.”

I looked at the key necklace, which I had basically stuffed in my drawer and not thought about for months. “No fucking way. Four thousand dollars? That’s more money than I make in a month. My whole wardrobe isn’t worth that.”

“Too true,” said April. “But Kelly—it’s from Tiffany’s. Even you’re not clueless enough to think that they’re selling costume jewellery.”

I flopped on my bed. Jimmy told me it wasn’t expensive, and I
was
that clueless.

April carefully put the necklace back in the box. “He was really into you, wasn’t he?”

“I guess.” Finding out that the necklace cost so much actually bothered me though. “But you know, if he really got me—he would never give me something like this. Now I can’t even wear it without worrying that I need a bodyguard.”

“Do you still miss him?” she wondered.

Only every night. “Kind of,” I said. “But you know, the fact that I’m getting all these new job opportunities makes me think I did the right thing.”

“Work and love don’t have to be mutually exclusive, you know.”

I knew that. But it wasn’t a choice between Jimmy and working—it was a lot more complicated. For me, it was a choice of being myself or getting bowled over by his agenda, no matter how well meaning. While still I wanted to be Jimmy’s girlfriend, I really didn’t want to be an NHL girlfriend.

BOOK: Hockey Is My Boyfriend: Part Three
2.64Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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