How The Cookie Crumbles (36 page)

“Good night, Jake,” she said.

“Good night, Frankie.” I grabbed her wrist. “Wait, don’t go back to your room. Stay here with me.”

She shook her head. “Jake, you’re not supposed to have vigorous exercise yet! And the way we have sex is like high-intensity aerobics.”

“We don’t have to have sex, we can just lie here together.”

“Oh Jake, like I believe that. After everything I’ve done to take care of you, I don’t want to take a chance and blow it now.” Then she giggled at her choice of words.

I pulled her by the hand. “Please, I promise, no sex. I just wanna sleep together.”

She tilted her head and then smiled at me. “Okay. For some dumb reason, I believe you.” She took off her robe and climbed into bed with me. She was wearing something silky and soft, and I tried not to think about what was underneath. I cradled her in my arms and kissed her on the top of the head. She smelled like toothpaste, flowery shampoo, and Frankie.

I wanted to say something to her, but I couldn’t find the right words. So I just said, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know, everything.”

She smiled up at me, and then put her head down on my chest and seemed to go right off to sleep. And then I fell asleep, keeping one arm over her so she’d be here when I woke up.

43. So Happy Together

I woke up when Jake kissed me on the ear. We were in the spoon position, with his arms wrapped around me.

“What are you doing?” I grumbled, but I pushed my back into him. He was nice and warm, and I liked to be warm when I slept. However judging from the sunlight coming through the blinds, it was time to get up.

“You have cute ears,” he told me. I heard a note of tenderness in his voice I had never heard before. I remembered reading something about emotional changes after concussion, but I couldn’t remember exactly what they were.

“Um, thanks. Probably you never looked at them before.”

“Of course I’ve seen your ears before, I just never really saw how cute they are.”

“That’s because for the first month I knew you, you never looked above my neck. I felt like wearing a t-shirt with an arrow that said, ‘My head is up here!’”

Jake laughed, “I can’t deny I wanted to get my hands on these,” he squeezed his forearm into my chest, “But it was mainly because you were a little scary.”

“A big guy like you, scared by a little thing like
moi
?”

“I got the feeling that you were two steps ahead of me, like whatever I said, you had heard it before.”

“Hmmm,” I replied. He had come on strong like a lot of guys, so it was easy to discount him. “Good thing you were persistent.”

“Yeah. Y’know I worked harder on you than anyone else, ever.”

“Really? Why?” I turned over to look at him, and he smiled at me.

“I dunno, mostly it’s easier to take it when it’s offered up.”

He looked a little embarrassed about the fact that being a hockey superstar meant never having to try hard. And it was true that under normal circumstances, he would probably have to work a lot harder to get girls, because he looked like a regular guy. In fact, sometimes when I walked down the street, I would see a half-dozen guys that reminded me of Jake. I hoped that I wasn’t influenced by the fact that he was a big deal hockey star. I liked a lot of things about him, but still it was hard to separate the guy and his job.

Jake concluded, “Anyway, Chloë kept encouraging me. I bet she was happy to hear that you were coming here.”

“Uh, well, I didn’t get a chance to tell her.”

Now it was my turn to look embarrassed. Bianca and Lauren had both been shocked that straight-laced me was ready to drop everything and skip class to look after Jake, so I hadn’t told anyone else. It was not so much the throwback gesture as the fact that we weren’t really anything to each other yet. “So he’s your boyfriend?” Lauren had asked, and I honestly had to admit I wasn’t sure. It smacked of desperation for me to even come here, but I had done it anyway. Not only because Sandy had been so persuasive, but because I wanted to. I wanted to see Jake, and see how he was, and maybe make him feel better.

And what were we now? It seemed like almost the moment that we could talk about this. But I kind of wanted him to start the whole conversation. I looked at him, and he grinned at me.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” he asked.

“Maybe?” I replied, wonderingly. Could he be thinking about relationship stuff too since he was being so adorable?

“I was thinking that we could have sex, y’know, without moving much. Light exercise.”

“That sounds like fun,” I scoffed.

“Probably what you’re used to, I’m just sayin’.”

“Just sayin’ that you’re better than other guys?”

“I think you said it first. The words ‘Jake, you’re the best’ pop out pretty much every time we have sex.”

“So egotistical.” I turned my back to him.

He pulled my hips towards him so I could feel his erection. “So, you prefer to start backdoor?”

“No!” I buried my head in the pillow. “Leave me alone. I took care of you yesterday.” I was pretty sure I read that decreased libido was a symptom of concussion; maybe I should highlight that and show him.

“Yesterday? That was like a million years ago. I’m concussed, but everything from the neck down works fine.” Jake ran a finger down my spine and patted my ass. “Anyway, I haven’t taken care of you yet, little Frankie.

Well, in that case….

So the day started off pretty well, and it just got better as it went on. I drove Jake to the training facility, and then I went to the LACMA. I was looking around the museum, and trying to imagine what it would like to work here. I had another meeting set up with Beatrice, this time just to have coffee and chat. I had questions about Masters programs abroad, and she had some expertise in that area.

After almost two hours, Jake texted me that he would be done soon, and I headed out to pick him up. We were both in great moods. He was delighted to have done some physical activity. Everything went well at the gym, and he could do some skating tomorrow, provided that he didn’t have any bad reactions later in the day. I resolved to keep a close eye on him, thinking that his desire to get back on the ice might override his common sense about taking things slowly. We went out for lunch at a nice place in Manhattan Beach, and Jake was chatting happily, so different from the grouchy guy he was only yesterday.

Finally he paused, and it was my turn to leap in.

“I’ve got some big news!” I told him, excitedly.

“Really, what’s up, babe?” he wondered, sitting back and smiling.

“Well, do you remember that internship I applied for? You know, the one in Los Angeles?” I hoped he remembered that he was the one who encouraged me so the next request wouldn’t come completely out of the blue. “Well hey, congratulate me … I got it! Not officially until I get the offer, but Beatrice gave me the heads up that I’ve been selected. And so, is it still okay if I stay here? It’ll be for three months, starting in January.”

His eyes widened, and he looked quite shocked. “Really, Frankie? I thought you said it was a long shot.”

“It was, totally. But I had some great references, and my marks are good.” I tried to be casual, but I was so excited. “So, is it okay with you?”

“Well, yeah, sure. I mean, I guess I should mention it to Domer first.”

I must have looked worried, because he continued quickly. “But I’m sure it’ll be fine with him.”

“Oh good. Because to be honest, I’d have a hard time swinging this whole deal without your help.” There was no way I’d be able to afford a place in L.A. while I was still paying rent in Vancouver. And I wouldn’t be able to waitress here to pick up extra cash. I grabbed his hand across the table and kissed it. “I’m so excited, Jake! It’s going to be so interesting to work at such a big, prestigious museum. And of course, it’ll be great to be with you.”

He nodded, and then our lunch arrived.

44. What Lurks in the Minds of Men?

Jake

I was flying after I got back from my training session. Getting back to the gym after lying around doing dick-all was great. I guess it was all the endorphins going through my system, but I felt great: happy, healthy, and so damn good. Things were progressing; next I’d be back on the ice and then back with the team. Being injured had opened up some dark shit for me, and I was happy not to have to confront it.

When I saw Frankie, she was all excited too, about her visit to the art museum and her internship. I was pretty surprised that she got the job, and now she was coming out for three months. I had kind of offered casually and forgotten about it. My first reaction had been panic, I mean, I liked Frankie but having her around all the time would kind of cramp my style. But I felt like I owed her for coming down and looking after me, and to be honest, I just felt optimistic, like maybe things could work out.

Frankie was making dinner, and I was gaming, playing a little FIFA. As I was gaming, my head started to ache. It wasn’t nearly as severe as before, but I couldn’t really focus. I turned off the game and went to my bedroom, pulled down the blinds, and lay down on the bed. Fuck.

I couldn’t sleep. I was too worried. Concussions were so weird, you never knew exactly what was going to happen. Nickers had told me about his; it was over six months before he could get back on the ice. Six months was like a lifetime. And concussions added up: the more hits you took, or even gave, that ended up in concussions, the more likely you were to be out for longer and longer times. When I closed my eyes, I saw this huge gaping pit around the possibility of not being able to play. My whole life, all I wanted to do was play hockey, and so far, my hockey dreams had come true in every way.

With a concussion you never knew how stuff would turn out. Your game might not be the same afterwards. If you started avoiding contact, you were screwed. If I couldn’t play hockey, and play hockey my way, I had no fucking idea what I’d do with my life. And I was only twenty-two, so it wasn’t like I had had this great career and all this experience to look back on. I’d be like Lindros, a guy with all kinds of potential, who never achieved anything. I’d be useless.

Being a hockey player was like my identity. Sure, I’d made some good coin already, and I’d get the rest of my contract paid out whatever happened, but it wasn’t about money. I loved hockey, and I wanted to play as long as I could. I didn’t have a fucking Plan B. I loved the game, and to be honest, I really liked everything that went with being a pro athlete: status, fame, and…women.

I could still hear Frankie in the kitchen. That was another issue. I more I got to know her, the more I thought that Frankie was pretty great. She was smart and fun and hot. And she liked to take care of me in an old-fashioned way that I was really into. But still, it was way too much to have a steady girlfriend now.

Everything was still incredible and fun. I was in the NHL and on the Kings, and girls were totally into that. And having a concussion showed me just how quickly that stuff could evaporate. I was into Frankie, but I wasn’t into getting tied down. Was it stupid for me to think I could have it all? Would Frankie be okay with what I wanted? Some of the guys said their girlfriends understood that they didn’t have to follow the same rules as regular guys.

The last real girlfriend I had was Tracey, back in high school. Tracey was hot and one of girls at school that all the guys were into. I was pretty stoked that she wanted to go out with me. She was still in Kingston when I had to move to Ottawa, and when I came home, it turned out she had been fooling around on me. Not the hugest deal when you’re both teenagers I guess, but it still hurt. And I was stupid enough to take her back and believe her excuses. When we finally broke up, she started blabbing all this bullshit about me, mixing up truth and lies until you didn’t know which was which. What hurt the most was that every vulnerable moment was laid out there for everyone to make fun of: the fact that I had cried when our family dog died, or that one night after drinking at a party I couldn’t get it up. And more shit like that. Stuff that only someone close to you would know, and still she used it against me, to make her look better. I figured you couldn’t really trust girls; they wanted you to be all sweet and sharing, but then they laughed at you later for not being man enough for them. When girls got mad, they got all mean. Especially beautiful girls, who could get away with shit all the time.

And I still didn’t quite get Frankie. She hadn’t been into me at all until she saw me play hockey. And then she wanted to meet all the guys. So was she just into dating an NHL player? Still, she never wanted to talk about hockey, and she never asked to go to any expensive places. I didn’t think she was into money, but I wasn’t exactly sure what she was into. She was beautiful though; you just couldn’t trust pretty chicks completely. It was way better to get with someone once and then go your own ways. You both knew what was up and you didn’t have to pretend it was love. The whole thing was way too confusing to think about with my headache.

“Jake? You okay?” Frankie tapped on the door and walked in.

“My head hurts again,” I told her. She came over and sat on the bed.

“Oh no, that means you’re not really clear yet, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know, it’s not as bad as before.” I turned my back to her. Looking at her was making me feel guilty for some stupid reason.

“I think you need to make sure you’re 100% before you go back. You don’t want to have some kind of relapse.”

“Just because you have a nurse’s uniform doesn’t make you a medical expert,” I told her.

“Okaaay. I see that grouchy Jake is back. Do you want dinner in here or in the dining room?”

“I don’t want dinner,” I told her without turning around.

“Fine. I’ll leave dinner in the fridge if you change your mind. I’m going out for a walk.”

And she left. That’s another thing chicks do; they storm out all mad if you say anything honest to them.