Out of the Game3 (22 page)

Chapter Thirty-Six

Claire stood in the doorway of Alex’s bottom-floor man cave. Dressed in the same thing he wore yesterday, and the day before that—a thin, faded yellow T-shirt and shorts—he was “watching”
Titanic
on one of the TVs and playing a violent video game on the other
.

“Hey, I’m back.”

He nodded. She’d fixed her face before coming down, but her eyes were still red and swollen from her breakdown at Erin’s.

“Tim and Erin say hi. What are you playing?”

“‘Earth Wars’.”

It looked like he was a soldier of some kind, hunting down aliens. Same as many of the other games he played.

“So, I have some great news.” She smiled brightly. “We’re having a girl.”

He blew the heads off a couple of bipedal insectoid aliens. “Fifty-fifty chance there.”

“Do you...have any ideas about names? Any special name you might have been thinking of?”

“Anything but Helen.”

She assumed that was his mom’s name, the mom who left him when he was a little boy.

She sat next to him on the sofa. “Do you like Olivia? I like Olivia.”

“It’s okay.”

“What about Madison?”

He grunted, clearly more interested in his game than naming his own child. It bothered her, but she wasn’t going to back down. Not this time. “What about Godzilla?”

He gave her a horrified look, which told her at least he was listening.

“Just kidding.” She nudged his knee with hers. “Are you...are you disappointed it’s not a boy?”

Surprisingly, he paused the game.

“No. I’m actually glad it’s a girl, now that I think about it.”

Her heart leapt. Tim had been right. He was starting to come around. He was
glad
it was a girl. Gladness was a positive emotion. She didn’t hear any real gladness in his voice, but that would come in time. He was out of practice, after all. She felt on the verge of crying again at the thought of seeing a genuine smile on his face. It had been so long.

But then she opened her mouth to ask him why he was glad about a girl and he said, “That way my son won’t have to be embarrassed to have a nobody for a dad.”

She gaped at him. The joy soured in her mouth. Anger took its place. “You bastard.” She stood up. “I cannot believe you just said that.”

He seemed to realize he’d just made a big mistake. “Claire, I—”

“I have had it up to here with you. I have been patient and understanding for almost two months, but I’ve had it. It’s time for you to wake up and smell the damn baby lotion.

“You are going to be a father in about eight weeks. And you’re going to be the father of a
daughter
so you’d better get over your disappointment real quick because I will not allow you to
ever
make her feel like a second-class citizen because she doesn’t have a penis.”

“Give me a break. I wouldn’t—”

“No. You just shut up and listen to me. You wanted me to marry you. I said no and really, that’s turning out to be a good thing because you’re not ready for marriage. You can’t even handle retirement, and that’s doing
nothing
. Believe me when I say marriage is work. Parenthood is even more work. It takes dedication and commitment and a desire to do more than sit on the couch and drink beer and play video games. It takes a man, Alex. An emotionally mature man.”

That apparently hit him where he lived because he sat up, a scowl on his face. She braced herself for the verbal slap.

“Oh yeah? Fuck you, Miss High and Mighty. You’ve got a real set of balls to be that condescending to me in my own fucking house.”

“Fine. I’ll leave, but not before I say one more thing.”

He rolled his eyes.

“As impossible as it might seem, I love you. I really do love you. And if you want proof, just look back at how you’ve been behaving since you got injured and ask yourself why I stayed. Could it be because you’re loaded? No. As you know, I have plenty of money. Is it because you’re an NHL player?” She scoffed. “That’s another big, obvious no. Is it because you’re good in the sack? I’ll grant you that. Yes, you’re good in bed, but not
that
good and especially not lately. So, the only reason left is love.

“But listen up. That doesn’t mean I’m going to put up with your crap forever because my daughter deserves a father who will love and protect her and teach her everything she needs to know to survive and flourish in that big bad world of men—a world you are intimately familiar with. So if you decide you’re ready for the big league—that’s a sports term I think you’ll understand—then you know where I live. In fact, I really like that analogy. Consider yourself scouted.” She narrowed her eyes, still angry. “I think you have promise, Sullivan. Real honest-to-goodness potential, so get yourself together and think really hard about whether you have what it takes for the long haul. Then, come talk to me and we’ll see.”

She turned on her heel and headed for the hallway.

“Oh fuck you. You don’t love
shit
,” he shouted. “You don’t
know
shit and you don’t
love
shit.”

Knowing she’d poked the tiger in his cage, she hurried to get her purse and keys. He wasn’t finished yet.

“And here’s a fucking newsflash. You’re not my coach or my owner or even a goddamned scout. In fact, you know what you are? You’re just one more fan, baby. A fan who was unlucky enough to get knocked up.”

Although it was a knife in the back, she let that parting shot go. The baby inside her made her strong. Plus, he wouldn’t be the Alex she loved if he just sat there and took all the crap she’d thrown in his face. In fact, seeing him riled up gave her hope he wasn’t completely dead inside.

Shoulders back and with a hand on her bulging stomach, she left.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Alex sat there for a full minute, stunned. When he heard the front door close, he went berserk.

What.

The.

Fuck
.

He stood and upended the coffee table all in one motion. Everything slid off it onto the floor—the remotes, several empty glasses, a couple of beer bottles, some with beer in them, a hat, a pile of magazines.

It felt good, but it wasn’t enough. He grabbed the leg and heaved the table sideways so it made a sizable dent in the wall. He looked around for something else to demolish. He spotted a small marble sculpture the interior designer picked out for him.

“I am
so
a man.” He heaved the sculpture at the TV with the video game. “I am a fucking grown man who doesn’t need to be fucking lectured in his own fucking house.”

He went to the case holding his vast DVD collection. Tried to dump it onto the floor, but the unit was firmly attached to the wall so he grabbed about a dozen DVDs between his palms and hurled them. They flew in several directions.

“I wouldn’t fucking marry you if you blew me every hour on the hour.”

Behind the bar he picked up the first bottle he saw and threw it at the doorway Claire had gone through only minutes before. It hit the doorframe, broke and sprayed vodka everywhere.
Excellent.

“You can have six of my kids. I don’t fucking care.”

He picked up another bottle. Threw it.
Crash.

“Yeah. In fact, I’m going to go out and fucking
nail
someone —”

Crash.

“—and make her fucking
scream
—”

Crash.

“—my
fucking
name.”

Alcohol fumes reached his nostrils. He was vaguely aware of the havoc he’d wreaked, but couldn’t seem to stop. The closest wall was covered with framed photographs, all memories of much better times—him playing hockey or posing with hockey friends and teammates—and suddenly he had to demolish those too. He went to the nearest picture, ripped it off the wall and flung it.

Fucking hockey.

He threw another framed 8x10. And another.

It wasn’t fair. He was a fucking NHL player. He fucking had skills. He’d worked his whole life to play hockey in the NHL. Hockey
was
his life.

But not anymore. Not any-fucking-more.
Crash.

The admission punched him in the gut.

Why did it have to be him? Why couldn’t the puck have hit one of the equipment guys? They could have kept doing their job with a messed-up eye. Or why couldn’t it have hit him in the jaw instead? He would have had to suck his meals through a straw for six weeks, but he still would have been able to play afterward.

It wasn’t fair.

They called hockey a game of inches and that was all he’d needed—one fucking inch. The doctors had cruelly told him if the puck had struck him in the forehead, he’d probably only suffered a concussion. Alex would have preferred a serious concussion. Guys still played after concussions.

He would never be a Barracuda again.

He smashed the picture he was holding against the wall, over and over and over until all he held was a splintered piece of wood and his hand was bleeding.

His glory days were over and all he’d ever have now were memories, like the damaged photograph of himself, on top of the world, his arm around Claire.

And now he’d lost her too. He’d probably never see his daughter. Not after what he’d said.

That realization brought a fresh wave of anguish.

He dropped the picture he’d been holding, slid to the floor and cried into his crossed arms.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Alex sat for a long time, propped against the wall, emotionally drained and uncaring. He felt like ashes, like he’d somehow burned up in the fire of his rage and what was left was likely to disappear without anyone noticing.

The room was a disaster. It would need professional help. The booze would have ruined the floor by now. There were dents in the doorframe and a legit hole in the wall where he’d rammed the coffee table into it. Everything would need a fresh coat of paint.

Before he could tackle that, he had to get to a phone. There was one not too far away behind the bar. Looking down, he noticed he had glass embedded in his feet. He did his best to pick it out. Fresh blood oozed. His cuts were going to need professional help, too.

Tim and Erin arrived ten minutes after he called to describe his situation.

“We would have been here sooner but we had to pack the diaper bag,” Tim said. “Holy shit. This looks like a home invasion.” He had their baby in a carrier over his forearm. The kid was sleeping. “Or like someone filmed a movie fight in here.”

Alex didn’t reply. Erin picked her way through the debris. She found a clear patch of floor and set down the tackle box she’d brought.

“Thanks for coming,” Alex said.

That got him a withering glare from Erin.

“Look, let’s get one thing straight. It’s only because my husband begged me that I’m here helping you at all. I think you’re despicable and you don’t deserve my sister or the baby and if had been up to me I’d have let you sit here until the mailman found you tomorrow.” She examined his feet briefly then glanced at Tim. “We’re definitely going to need Jason.”

“Jason’s out of town, but Dev’s coming...” Tim checked his phone. “In fact, he’s driving up now.”

Dustin DeVries arrived shortly thereafter and had the same reaction as Tim. “Holy shit. Did someone break in?”

Alex looked up. “No. I—”

“Save the explanation for later,” Erin said. “I want to get these cuts cleaned out so you need to get him to the bathroom or the kitchen. If he has a detachable faucet with a hose in the house, that would be ideal.”

Erin efficiently ordered everyone around like a military sergeant. She rinsed the blood from his feet, muttering under her breath the entire time. Then, they put the extra leaf into the dining room table and laid him on top of it so she could sit while she picked out the glass shards. It took quite a while. Dev and Tim contacted a maid service for an emergency cleaning, then went for beer and a bucket of fried chicken, one of Alex’s favorite meals. By the time they returned with the food, Erin was securing the gauze bandages. She didn’t stay even though Alex told her she was welcome.

“Like I want to have dinner with you, asshole. I’d be happy if I never saw you again in my life.”

He thanked her anyway as she turned and left with her tackle box first-aid kit.

After they’d all gotten plates of food, Dev turned to Tim. “Your wife’s a firecracker.”

“She loves her sister. And she’s my sister too,” Tim said, swinging his eyes to Alex. “So I’d like to know what’s going on.”

Alex was now sitting, his feet on a pillow. “Claire and I had a fight. She left me and I...got angry.”

“What did you do?”

Alex thought about it. These were his teammates, his friends. If he couldn’t tell them the truth, he might as well go back downstairs and never come out.

“It wasn’t so much what I did. It was what I didn’t do,
haven’t
been doing.”

His feet throbbing, he told them about his depression, his lack of energy, of interest. He admitted that he’d missed the ultrasound appointment.

“You what?” Tim raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

Alex wanted to lie.
I
didn’t know about it.
I
got a migraine right behind my fucking eye.
He didn’t.

“I was being mean.”

“Dude,” Dev said, shaking his head.

“I was mad at her for being so happy. She’s so damned happy about the baby and my entire shit life is in the crapper.”

Tim glanced at Dev. “You want to, or should I?”

Dev made an “after you” gesture.

Tim faced Alex squarely. “Alex, you are such an asshole. She was just trying to cheer you up. Get your mind off your troubles.”

“I know, but you know how when you’re miserable and you just want to wallow in it and listen to sad songs on an endless loop?” He shrugged.

“Yeah,” Dev said. “I know that place very well. Misery loves company.”

“Yeah,” Alex agreed. “So, I...” He hesitated then told them about not asking about the baby’s sex. That had been out of spite too.

“Fuck me,” Dev said. “That is low, even for you.”

Alex hung his head. “I know. I deserve every single thing she said to me.”

“Which was?” Dev asked.

“Basically, I need to grow up before she’ll even consider taking me back. In fact, she talked to me like I was a prospect she was scouting for a spot on her roster.”

Tim nodded and took a sip of his beer. “She’s quite a woman, my sister-in-law.”

“So, what are you going to do?” Dev asked.

“I guess I have to go say I’m sorry.”

Tim put his beer bottle down. “No, man. You can’t do that. I mean, you
can
do that, but not
like
that.”

“You’re not making sense, Tim.”

Tim leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Okay first of all, let me start off by saying fuck you very much for putting me in this shitty position. I love you, Alex, but I love Erin and Claire too and right now I’m between that rock and fucking hard place and it’s because you fucking put me there.”

“I’m sorry, man.”

“I’m going to do my best to be a friend to you and a brother to Claire, so get ready for the brutal truth.”

“He can’t
handle
the truth,” Dev said, then winced. “Sorry. Bad joke.”

“He’d better fucking handle it,” Tim said, “or I’m going to kick his ass.”

“Go ahead, bring it, Tim,” Alex said. “Because I’m dying to have someone else tell me what a shitty person I am today.”

“Then don’t act like a shitty person.” Tim sighed. “Look, what I was trying to say is, you can’t be wishy-washy about this. You can’t go to her unless you’re one hundred percent sure you want to be with her. It’s not fair to any of the parties involved—you, Claire
or
the baby.”

“It’s a girl,” Alex said.

Tim’s expression got wistful and Alex remembered too late about Mollie.

Tim shook it off. “Girls are awesome. They look up to you with those big worshipful eyes, and it’s hard to refuse them anything. When you see her for the first time, your heart is going to be branded with her name. Forever ’til the day you die.”

“
If
Claire even lets me see her.”

“Do you
want
to see her?” Tim asked. “That’s the big question. Because you need to do some serious soul-searching. You have two giant choices in front of you. First, do you want to stay with Claire?”

“I...” Alex squirmed.

Tim held a hand up. “You don’t have to answer now, but figure it out, because if you don’t want to stay with her for whatever reason, you have to decide what to do about your daughter.”

“Shit. Alex with a daughter, I still can’t get my head around that,” Dev said.

Tim went on. “If you’re going to be one of those dads who drifts into her life once in a while just to assuage his sense of guilt for not being there the rest of the time, then I think it would be kinder to cut loose right now. It’s better to not be there at all than to show up just enough to fuck it up.”

“But she’ll grow up hating me.”

“You know what? I don’t think so. I think she won’t end up giving you much thought at all because Claire will find someone else—you know she will—and the man she finds will be there for her little girl and raise her up just fine. You’ll just be the guy who donated his sperm.”

Dev blew out a breath. “Fuck. That’s harsh.”

“Feel free to jump in here, Dev,” Tim said.

“No way, man. I’m just taking notes in case I ever get some girl in trouble, which I don’t plan on doing.”

Alex sighed. Every word Tim spoke was the truth and he
was
having trouble handling it. He felt like fucking crying and was fighting like hell not to.

“So it boils down to this. What kind of man do you want to be? What do you trust yourself to do? Look hard, Alex. Look very, very hard at yourself. Because if you take on this family—a family you helped create by the way—they’ll be your linemates forever. They will expect certain things of you and you will need to come through for them. If you want to win at real life, you have to be that guy that they can depend on day after day, night after night, when you’re tired, sad, or in the emotional toilet with a giant shit blocking the pipes. You have to be a man and think about someone other than yourself.”

Fucking A, did no one in this world see his big hairy balls? He
was
a man for fuck’s sake.

“Do I not get any slack at all for having just suffered through a career-ending injury, motherfucker?”

Tim sighed. “In any other situation, yes. Believe me, every guy on the team—Jase, Mac, the kids—we’re all sick inside for you, but you don’t have the luxury of marinating in your own misery forever. It sucks, but you made the bed.”

Dev opened his mouth, then shut it.

One of the maids came into the room. “We are done. Floor is clean. Walls are clean. Glass is all gone.”

Alex made as if to get up, but winced, forgetting about his feet.

Tim put a hand on his shoulder. “I got this. You can pay me back.” He pulled his wallet out and paid the woman. “Thank you. You ladies are the best. I’m adding an extra hundred.”

Alex knew Tim did that as a little dig about having thrown the fit in the first place.

Dev stood and stretched. “Well, it’s been fun, but I have to walk my dogs.” He slapped Alex on the shoulder. “Good to see you, buddy. When Tim called me and said there was an emergency, I thought maybe you’d done something drastic, so I’m glad it was only the death of your man cave.”

“Thanks for your help.”

Dev met Alex’s gaze, gave a nod then slapped him on the shoulder again.

“I’m going to take off too,” Tim said.

“Thanks, man. I owe you. And Erin. You found yourself a good woman there.”

Tim paused at the doorway, turned and said with a grim smile. “So did you.”