Sledge: The Hockey Player's Secret Baby (18 page)

Sledge’s bedroom door was open. Was he asleep? I walked over to his door and peeked inside. I didn’t mean to disturb him I just wanted to see if he was able to sleep soundly after everything that had happened. I looked inside, but the room was dark. I heard the steady rhythm of breathing and assumed he was asleep.

“Bobbi?” he called.

I let out a little scream, then started to laugh. “I thought you were asleep. You scared the shit out of me.”

Embarrassment washed over me. He must have thought I was a lunatic. Who watches someone while they’re sleeping?

“Come here,” he said.

I walked into the room and sat down on the edge of his bed. The room was big, but mostly empty. Hockey equipment was stacked against the far wall; there were a few pictures of Sledge with his teammates, framed and sitting on bedside table. Among them was one of Sledge with me and Chick. We stood on the ice together smiling. I remembered when the photo was taken. It was right before I lost my virginity to Sledge. My father was the one who took the picture. I suddenly had the urge to grab the photo and throw it out the window. Everything my father touched felt tainted.

“I remember that day,” Sledge said, following my gaze. “Your dad wouldn’t let you play hockey with us. He said it was inappropriate for a young lady to play a man’s sport. I remember laughing. You were never a fragile little girl.”

He was right. Once upon a time, I was tough. Life had worn me down.

“You must be disappointed by what I’ve become.”

“What do you mean?”

“A liar, a drug abuser. The old me wouldn’t recognize the new me.”

“We’ve all changed. We’re not kids anymore. I doubt the me in that picture would recognize the me today.”

“You haven’t changed though.”

“I have. You just haven’t been around long enough to see it.”

I thought back to when I saw Sledge for the first time at the club. He was surrounded by girls and drinking like a fish.

“When you dumped me, you left a hole behind. The only way to fill it was with drinking, girls and trouble,” he said.

“You’re a professional athlete,” I replied with a shrug.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Astrid says you’re all drunk sluts.”

Sledge laughed. “Oh, really?”

“Can you name one professional athlete that’s a quiet family man?”

Sledge thought for a moment, then said: “That doesn’t matter. It’s not who I am.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I know you enjoyed all those girls.”

“Do you?” he said irritably. “What makes you so sure I was having fun?”

“Are you kidding me? If I was in your shoes and had hot guys willing to do whatever I wanted…”

“What?”

“I wouldn’t be depressed.”

“You can be depressed and still get laid. People find different ways to fill the emptiness inside them. Some use women, some use pills…”

An awkward silence fell between us. It never occurred to me that Sledge might be depressed. He always knew how to have a good time. Though when I thought back to what I knew of his life the past year it made sense. Sledge liked to fight, but he was getting into a ridiculous amount of altercations lately. Fights had a way of finding Sledge. Actually the opposite was closer to the truth. It seemed like he found a player to fight with every game, sometimes multiple times a game.

Then there were the girls. I never imagined Sledge being attracted to models. Maybe I’d been naïve. He was a red-blooded man. I was sure most guys would jump at the chance to hook-up with a swimsuit model. Professional athletes had girls throwing themselves at them all the time. Why would Sledge be immune to temptation? It was silly to think so.

“You didn’t like the attention? Or hooking up with all those girls?” I asked.

He gave me a harsh look as if he thought I was judging him. I wasn’t. I was genuinely curious.

“I enjoyed it, okay? Are you happy?”

“I’m not trying to pick a fight. I’m just trying to understand.”

“It was a lot of fun for a while. I even managed to forget about you for a time, but it didn’t last. Those girls are just a cheap substitute for the real thing.”

“Am I the real thing?” I asked shyly.

“You were all I ever wanted.”

Sledge touched my arm with the back of his hand. He was shirtless; the bed sheets hovered around his waist. Was he naked beneath them? His light touch turned me on more than if he’d kissed me and ripped off my clothes.

“You don’t hate me?” I whispered.

He traced the curve of my arm, then his fingertips moved over my thigh. I tried to suppress the chill working its way up my spine.

“I never hated you- not even now.”

“Do you forgive me?”

“I’m not there yet,” he said after a pause. He traced the curve of my calf with his fingertips. “Come here,” he said.

He pulled back the sheets. I slid beneath them. I was afraid to get too close. What if I touched him only to wake alone in my bed having discovered this was all a dream?

Sledge pulled me to him. I rested my head on his chest and was relieved to discover this wasn’t a dream. He was warm and soft. A fading bruise covered his shoulder. I traced the outline of it. The bruise was huge; he must have taken quite the blow. He didn’t seem bothered at all. If he was injured, he didn’t show it.

Sledge’s hand rested on the small of my back. His touch was light, but I could feel the power in it. I waited for it to slide beneath my shirt, to feel him pull at my underwear and squeeze my breasts. But he didn’t. He held me close and we laid together, legs tangled beneath the sheets, all night. Neither of us spoke. I was afraid to even breathe. I was sure the moment wouldn’t last.

I fought sleep all night. I was terrified something would interrupt us, like my father would burst into the room like a madman and pull me away from Sledge forever. He’d take the baby and give him up for adoption. I’d have no idea what happened to him or if he was loved.

I clung to Sledge and forced myself to fight off the darkness. It did little good. I soon found myself enveloped by it.

18

I woke with a start. I was alone in bed. It was just as I’d feared: Sledge woke, realized his mistake and left. I knew he would have second thoughts about forgiving me and decide I was beyond redemption.

I jumped out of bed and headed into the living room. It was empty. I heard a cry and headed to the nursery. Sledge had just changed the baby’s diaper and was busy dressing him in a striped onesie. He glanced at me over his shoulder.

“There’s your mama,” he said to the baby. “I thought she was going to sleep all day.”

He put a jacket on the baby, then handed him to me. Confused, I took him. Why wasn’t Sledge mad at me? He acted as if nothing had happened.

“You should get dressed,” he said, his eyes drifting over my bare legs.

“Where are we going?”

“To take the baby to see the ice.”

I dressed quickly, then followed Sledge out of the condo. I held little Jake tight as we headed down to Sledge’s car. When we stepped into the lobby, I expected to see several curious stares come our way. No one cared though. Everyone ignored us. I wasn’t sure why I thought anyone would care. Maybe I’d spent too much time on the hockey gossip message boards. The posters on that site were obsessed with the players every movement. I assumed they’d be out stalking Sledge’s place.

The street was full of passersby and cars, but no one suspicion. It wasn’t just Sledge’s fans that left me nervous. I was afraid my father would show up and try to take the baby away. If I lost him after just being reunited with him I would die. I couldn’t handle losing him twice.

I hugged Jake to me tight, keeping my eye out for anyone suspicion. Sledge took the baby from me and put him in his car seat. I let him go, but it wasn’t easy. I trusted Sledge, but I was nervous.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I lied.

He nodded and helped me into the passenger’s seat. I was relieved once the car started and we were on our way. We drove to the stadium downtown. It was Sledge’s team’s home arena. The place was deserted. We entered through the player’s entrance. A security guard asked Sledge what was up. He replied by saying: “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

I smiled awkwardly as we made our way to the ice. The arena was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. It was kind of spooky.

We stepped out onto the ice. I looked around and imagined what it must be like in the middle of a game. The roar of the crowd must be deafening.

“What’s it like?” I asked. “When you’re playing and everyone’s cheering you on?”

“To be honest, I never notice. I’m too focused on the game. I don’t hear the crowd or see them. It just fades into the background when I’m in the zone.”

“I could never do what you do. I’d be too conscious of all those eyes on me. Not to mention the pressure. I’d be terrified I’d blow it and everyone would hate me.”

“You can’t think about those things. If you screw up, all you can do is own your mistakes. Take responsibility, fix what you can and make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

It was clear we weren’t just talking about hockey anymore.

“You’re right. We’re not kids anymore. I can’t bury my head in the sand and hope my problems go away. I should have come to you and told you everything.”

“I know how scared and overwhelmed you were,” he said.

I wanted to laugh, but I swallowed back the urge. Sledge had no idea how hard the past year had been for me.

“We have to put the past behind us and move on.”

“What if the past’s not through with us?” I asked.

Sledge gave me a troubled look. “We’re in control of our own future. No one’s going to take the baby away from us, not your father, or your aunt-
no one
.”

Sledge knelt down and held out the baby’s hands, giving him support while he attempted to walk across the ice. He slipped and slid, but Sledge was there to keep him from falling.

Jake leaned against his daddy and looked up at the empty seats. His eyes went wide as he pointed up and made a sound. Who knew what he thought about all this, but his expression made us laugh. We took turns walking the baby across the ice before finally heading out.

As we left the arena, I noticed several girls arguing with the security guy. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but when their eyes locked on Sledge they turned big and round. One of them pulled out her cell phone and started taking pictures of Sledge with the baby.

“The secret’s out now,” I murmured.

Sledge ignored the girls and quickly got the baby into his car seat. We took off with them chasing after us.

“Sledge!” they shouted as we drove away.

I pulled out my cell phone and checked the message boards. There was a flurry of comments about the events of the last few days.

“What are you reading?” Sledge asked.

It suddenly occurred to me how embarrassing it was to admit I followed Sledge’s life online. Though at this point, I had nothing to lose. I didn’t see how Sledge could think any of less of me. He already saw me as a crazy, pill-popping liar.

“There’s this website I follow… it’s all about hockey. There’s a message board and the posters are really into hockey gossip. They write about you…” I admitted sheepishly.

“What do they say?”

“It’s mostly gossip about what’s going on behind the scenes with the team, or about you and Svetlana.”

He gave me a look that said he was uncomfortable with this. Who could blame him? A group of strangers were talking about his love life and wildly speculating on what went on behind closed doors.

“They know about me,” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“They know my name and that we’ve seen together. They also know I turned myself in when Svetlana falsely accused you of attacking her.”

“Have they been harassing you? I can get my lawyers to shut down the site.”

“No, they’re just nosey.”

The idea of having the site shut down made me feel guilty. The posters on the site were harmless. I suspected most of them were like me: obsessed with hockey and looking for an escape from the trouble in their lives. The site had been a needed distraction for me during dark times. I didn’t want to take it away from others who might be in a similar position as me.

“They’re harmless,” I said. “They’re just a bit too interested in the lives of the players.”

“You were using the site to check up on me?” It wasn’t a question.

“I was curious about how you were getting on. I wanted you to be happy.”

“And did you think I was happy?”

The baby fussed in his car seat.

“I don’t know. It looked like you got everything you ever wanted. You were playing professional hockey, making a lot of money, you had girls lining up around the block.”

“That’s all that you think I wanted? Girls and money?”

“Well, most guys-”

“I don’t care about most guys. I only ever wanted you, Bobbi.” He ran his hand through his hair then gripped the wheel, as if it pained him to admit this. “I’ve been miserable without you.”

It was wrong to take pleasure in Sledge’s misery, but it made me feel wanted in a way I hadn’t in a long time. Sledge still loved me in spite of it all. I wasn’t sure how to respond. How do you tell someone you love them madly, that they’re all you ever wanted in life?

Sledge was blunt and brave. He could say what he was thinking without self-consciousness. I was raised to keep your thoughts to yourself. You don’t express emotions. My parents never hugged me or told me they loved me. Now I had a man who wanted to give me everything I was missing and more.

The love I felt for Sledge and our baby in that moment was indescribable. It proved to be fleeting. The love I felt was quickly replaced with dread.

We pulled up to the front of Sledge’s place. My father was standing out front, arguing with the doorman. As soon as Sledge saw him, he slammed on the brakes, threw the car into Park and jumped out.

“Stay here,” he said to me.

He slammed the door. I immediately locked the doors. I was scared my father would try to snatch the baby. Sledge didn’t waste time with small-talk. He walked straight up to my father. My dad turned to face him. His chest was out, his shoulders square. He turned a severe eye on Sledge and opened his mouth to yell at him. It was clear he thought he could intimidate Sledge into backing down. Obviously, he didn’t know Sledge very well. Sledge was beyond being intimidated. And if my father thought he could order him to back down, he was in for a rude awakening.

Sledge punched him in the face harder than I’ve ever seen him hit anyone. My father’s head snapped back. To his credit, he didn’t drop to the ground. He was a strong guy. In his youth, he’d been a professional hockey player. He knew how to take a blow. Sledge had taken him by surprise though. No one ever stood up to my father like this. He wasn’t prepared for a fight.

Sledge hit him again. This time he went down.

Sledge loomed over him, his hands balled into fists at his side. I’ve heard stories about people so filled with rage that they literally shake. I always thought this was just a dramatic, narrative flourish, but Sledge actually shook with anger. It was like every cell in his body was electrified with the need to destroy my father.

For once it looked like Sledge was trying to use self-control. He leaned over my father and grabbed him by the collar. He brought his face close and said something to him. Their faces were an inch apart. Sledge’s eyes were filled with murder. My father’s showed an emotion I’ve never seen from him before: fear.

After Sledge was done speaking to him, he jumped back into the car and sped around the corner to the parking garage.

“What did you say to him?” I asked.

“I told him he took away two of the most important things in the world to me. Now it’s my turn to take away the only thing he cares about in the world.”