Light the Lamp (13 page)

The next game
, I spent a few hours in the owner’s box again, but this time I sat with some of the players’ wives and girlfriends plus the head coach’s daughter, Sara Thomas. Katie stayed with us, too, but Maddie chose to hang out in her spot with a book instead of talking to us. I shared the blanket I’d brought with Katie, just like Maddie had done with her during the last game.

Part of me wanted to do exactly what Maddie was doing tonight—curl up with a book—but I didn’t want to be rude, and these women seemed hell-bent on including me after I’d spent a little time with them two nights before.

In the end, I was glad I sat and talked with them. Just like so many people tend to make snap judgments about me, basing their opinions on my choice of clothes and other superficial things, it seemed I had done the same when I first saw them, judging them because they wore designer brands and had their hair and make-up perfectly done.

It didn’t take me long to discover just how wrong I’d been about them. For about ten minutes, we’d been talking about Sara’s most recent date with a guy Katie’s mom, Laura Weber, wasn’t sold on. We all laughed and commiserated as she gave us far more detail than I felt comfortable with since I barely knew her, when all of a sudden the mood in the owner’s box changed.

The excitement in the arena, which had been ramped up with the Storm leading the Ottawa Senators three to one in the second period, dropped off to nothingness out of nowhere. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Well, there was one sound. An agonized scream.

It was full of pain, pain I hoped I would never experience. The scream was so intense that it ripped into me and burned until I could almost feel his pain, too. I leaped to my feet, the blanket falling to the floor as I clutched my hand over my heart, as though that could stop the stabbing torment that had settled within me at the first sound of distress.

Instantly, the rest of the women stopped laughing and looked down to the ice to see what was going on. My eyes followed theirs. One of the Storm’s players was down on the ice and not moving, but his arm was in a position that no human arm should ever be in. A few of the players on the ice were helping some men in shoes instead of skates rush across to where the injured man had fallen. At the opposite end of the rink, the officials opened the doors that housed the Zambonis and brought out a stretcher.

“
It’s Monty,” Sara whispered.

As soon as those words left her lips, the women around me whipped into action. Rachel pulled out her cell phone and headed for the hallway. “Jim?” she said before the door closed behind her. Laura Weber and Dana Campbell got up and found one of the women in the other group, pulling her aside and helping to calm her down.

“
That’s Monty’s wife,” Katie explained to me.

Sara and Maddie went back to the corner where the other kids were playing. The two of them picked up some dolls and plopped down on the floor, cross-legged, with a couple of younger girls. Distracting them, I was certain. They must be Monty’s children.

As I watched all of the women coming together around me, the sharp ache in my chest slowly started to ebb and fade. Katie reached out a hand as though to comfort me. I took it and sat down again, picking up the blanket and situating it over her.

She didn’t let go of my hand, even though I was shaking. “It’s always scary when we see one of the guys get hurt. It doesn’t get any easier, but we help take care of each other.”

I nodded, mute. I couldn’t form words. I couldn’t explain that it wasn’t just fear that had clawed at my chest like a wild animal, but that it was actual pain. Anytime I tried to explain it to people, they looked at me like I was crazy, because, for me, it went so far beyond sympathy or even empathy. It was as though I could
feel
exactly what other people were feeling. I couldn’t control it. It just seeped into me and took over, and I was powerless to do anything but take on some small part of their hurts. Sometimes I was able to take all of the pain into myself and leave them lighter and freer. I couldn’t take as much pain as Monty was experiencing, though. I could only share in it because I also had some of his wife’s panic edging its way into me.

Later, I would have to find a way to purge it all out of my system again. But not now. Now I just tried to let it all come to me.

After a few moments, while I was still holding Katie’s hand, Rachel returned. “Annie-Claude?” she said to the woman who was barely containing her hysteria. “Jim said I should take you down to the ambulance.”

“
But the girls,” Annie-Claude argued feebly.

Sara looked up from the floor. “Sylvie and Claire are fine here. They’ve got lots of people to look after them.”

I glanced down at the ice. They’d already loaded Monty onto the stretcher and were starting to wheel him down the Zamboni tunnel.

“
Come on,” Dana said, drawing my attention again. She put her arm around Annie-Claude’s waist and started tugging her out the door. “Your husband needs you.” The two of them followed Rachel into the concourse.

The mood in the owner’s box shifted. Where there had been fun and laughter, now there was worry and somberness. It had happened in the span of only a few moments. Laura turned around, her eyes scanning the women surrounding her, taking stock of the situation like a mother hen. “We’re going to need more wine.”

Katie grinned at me. “My mom rocks.”

Yes, I had seriously misjudged these women. I was glad I hadn’t voiced my thoughts aloud to anyone. It wasn’t like me to jump to conclusions about anyone, especially when it came to something as ridiculous as the clothes they were wearing.

I turned to Katie and nodded. “Yeah, she does.”

She leaned closer to me, dropping her voice. “Sneak me some wine?”

I shook my head. “Not gonna happen.”

“
Yeah.” She sighed melodramatically. “I know. But I had to try.”

The game started up again, and Laura passed wine glasses around to all the women of legal age in the owner’s box. I took a glass when she offered one to me. It was sweet and smooth on my tongue, and just enough to help to soothe my frayed nerves. I was still filled with the pain and fear from Monty’s injury and Annie-Claude’s panic—the wine wouldn’t be enough to clear that away—but I couldn’t do anything about that until I was home and alone.

Only then could I fall to pieces. For now, I could just sip my wine, hold Katie’s hand, and try to watch the game.

 

 

Liam scored another
goal and had an assist in the game against the Senators, helping the team to win, four to one. After the game was over and we waited for the guys to finish up, the other women kept gushing about how much better he was playing now that I was around. They said he’d found his old scoring groove again. That it was because of me.

I didn’t know much about all of that.

I mean, I’d never really gotten into sports. My dad and brothers had watched when we were growing up, but I hadn’t. I knew they existed, and that was about the extent of my sports knowledge. But these women knew all about the game. Dana had apparently even played hockey for years. She, more than any of the rest, was confident that I was the cause of Liam rediscovering his game. She said that now that I was in his life, he’d gotten his confidence back.

He didn’t seem to be lacking confidence to me.

I was still worked up from witnessing Monty’s broken arm when someone’s cell phone started beeping. I didn’t realize it was mine, at first, since I hadn’t had a cell phone in quite a while, and so it had already gone off a few times with me being oblivious to the interruption when Katie turned to me and said, “Aren’t you going to see what that is?”

I blinked at her a few times until she pointed at the beeping, vibrating purse on my lap. “Oh. I suppose so.” I undid the top zipper and fished through my bag for the phone. I still had the same four items in there as I’d had when I had left my car on the side of the highway. The only new things were this phone and a key to Liam’s condo.

When I pulled the phone out, there was a text message from Liam.

Yep. You’re definitely my lucky charm. I’ll be up to get you in a few minutes.

A red heart emoticon adorned the end of the line of text. I locked the screen and shoved the phone back in my purse, but not before Katie saw what Liam had said. She grinned at me, like there was a secret that we were keeping just between the two of us.

There was no secret, though. Liam and I weren’t dating.

We’d talked about it, but he wasn’t ready and I wasn’t sure it was what I wanted. I was definitely attracted to him, and I knew he was attracted to me. But I felt so useless, being with him. He wanted to take care of everything all the time, and there wasn’t anything for me to do. I was going to go crazy before too much longer if I couldn’t find a way to
do
something—something that mattered. So far, I wasn’t seeing a way to be in his life the way he wanted me to be and to feel useful.

Later, when Liam and I were on the sofa back at the condo, he tugged me close to his side. I laid my head on his shoulder and breathed in the scent of him, listening to the beat of his heart. It relaxed me, his warmth and strength and steady pulse and the spicy scent of his cologne, and all the emotions I’d held on to for hours started to ease. I tucked my feet up beside me, and his hand dropped down to rest against my hip.

“
I like this,” he said. “Holding you like this.”

I liked it, too. A lot. I liked it so much I feared I would never want it to end. The steadiness and security of his arm around me, the power in his chest and his thigh next to me, the way he could sit with me in silence and not make it feel uncomfortable—it all combined to soothe the knots in my muscles from all the pain and anxiety I’d been carrying all night.

His hand slid along my side, firm and secure, caressing me in such a way that all the emotion I’d been carrying for hours started to bubble out of me in tears and shallow breaths.

This never happened. Not like this. I was always alone when I managed to purge the negativity, always completely by myself and free from having to explain it to anyone. My family had known this about me, my brothers. They understood my need to cry and release it all, that it didn’t mean anything was wrong and that they didn’t need to do anything to help me. No one else ever understood it, though.

But I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t slow the rush of tears as the sobs built within my chest and exploded out of my mouth.

“
What?” Liam asked. He put his palm against my cheek and tried to lift my face to look at him, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t see through my tears, and I couldn’t explain. Not right now. His thumb pushed up beneath my chin, tilting my head back so he could see my face. “What is it, Noelle? What’s wrong?”

He sounded so concerned, almost terrified, but the torrent of emotion exiting my body happened so quickly and so completely that I could only bawl.

His hand at my side moved to my back, and he slid his other hand beneath my knees. In a flash, he picked me up and set me on his lap. “All right,” he said quietly. He smoothed one hand over my head, his other down my back. “I’ve got you. It’s all right.”

But it wasn’t all right. Not yet. I buried my face against his chest, wrapping both arms around him and holding on until the storm passed. After a few minutes, I had it all out of my system. My sobs slowed to a shudder here and there, a sniffle or two at a time, and I pulled myself back enough that I could look up at him.

He looked as scared as he’d sounded when I’d started crying.

“
I’m sorry,” I said, and I smiled. But then I saw the snotty, tear-stained mess I’d left on his dress shirt. “Oh! I’m so sorry.” I tugged the edge of my cardigan and used it to blot at the evidence of my tears until he put one hand over mine and stopped me.

“
It’s all right,” he said.

“
It’s not. It’ll set. We’ll have to wash it or take it to the cleaners—”