The Visit

As far as day offs went, Riley mused, this one was pretty damn good. She had spent the day lounging around in sweats, eating popcorn and drinking fine wine with the man she considered her own personal hero. Brett Sharpe had kept her from leaping off the edge of sanity.

Now they stood dressed formally for their dinner date that was scheduled for seven at a new French restaurant. Well, it was quarter after seven and Riley was in a little black dress, with flaming red heels, pacing the apartment’s living room. Brett was in the bathroom fixing his hair.

“Brett,” Riley called out, “could you at least try to hurry?”

“Give me five more minutes. I’m having a bad hair day.” His voice was a little muffled because of the door, but Riley heard him loud and clear. She had ears like a cat.

“You said that ten minutes ago, when you all ready know that your hair is naturally perfect.”

“Five minutes, Riley. Oh, and get the door,” he added when it rang.

She muttered a suggestion under her breath that would have appalled him if he’d heard it while she stalked to the door. Even Riley couldn’t mask the surprise that came to her pretty face when she swung the door open.

“Jack.” She hadn’t seen, or spoken to him since she left Rimouski for Australia, five years back.

“Hey, Rye.” His smile was as easy as his tone. “Gonna invite me in?”

“Right.” She started to move aside, then stopped. “You’ve caught me at a bad time, Jack. I was just on my way out.”

He studied her up and down and then grinned. “So I see. Lookin’ good, Rye.”

She flushed slightly, which had only added to her beauty. The last time he had seen her she’d been in jeans and a t-shirt with her hair tied in a loose ponytail. Now she was dressed in a sleek and sexy black little dress, red heels, red lipstick, and a little red handbag. Her hair was up in a bun with what he took as chopsticks in her hair.

The years had been very generous to her.

“Thanks, I—” She broke off when Brett walked into the living room.

“Riley, who’s at the— Oh. Hello,” Brett said in a charming tone.

“You look perfect,” Riley muttered under her breath, looking at Brett. “Ah, Brett, Jack Johnson. Jack, Brett Sharpe.”

“Nice to meet you.” Find somewhere else to be, Brett told himself. “I’ll just go get my jacket.”

As he walked off, Jack looked around the apartment. It was clean, he noted, except for the glasses of wine on the table. And spacious, even with all the stylish furniture there was still a lot of empty space. He thought the place suited Riley just fine.

“He seems nice,” Jack commented.

Riley smiled. “Brett’s a great guy. So, what brings you to Pittsburgh, Jack? As I recall it isn’t hockey season just yet.”

You always did have good taste, he mused. “No, it’s not that time of year. However, I was just passing through and thought I’d pay an old friend a visit. But I see you’re busy so we’ll have to reschedule our little rendezvous.”

“How long are you in town?”

“It depends, really,” he told her.

She pursed her lips, and drew her brows together, in thought. “Well tomorrow I work from nine to five. Do you want to do a dinner thing?”

After a moment’s thought and careful calculation, Jack responded. “Yeah, I think I can manage a dinner thing. It’ll have to be a later one, though.”

Riley smiled. “No problem. Does seven work for you? Or shall we make it seven-thirty?”

“Seven’s fine,” he assured her. “I’ll need your cell number.”

“Right,” she muttered. It occurred to Riley now that she had left her phone in the bedroom. “Let me just go get that,” she said, and then turned down the hallway. She appeared seconds later with her phone held tightly in her hand. “Add your number in and I’ll do the same.”

They exchanged numbers and goodbyes as Jack left for the evening. Brett returned to the living room just as Riley closed the door. He looked perfect, she thought enviously. He had probably spent the last hour in the bathroom staring at himself instead of fixing his hair. The man always looked perfect.

“Ready?” She asked with a quick glance at her watch. They were now half an hour late.

“Yes,” Brett answered. After he locked the door, he and Riley made their way down to the parking garage, his arm wrapped companionably around her waist. “How convenient of him to stop by,” he commented on the drive to the restaurant.

“He was in town, and decided to drop by,” she said with a shrug.

“Mm-hmm. Whatever makes you happy, my dear,” he said easily as he pulled into a parking space. “So you’ll read the menu to me, right? I don’t happen to speak French.”

Riley laughed as they walked into the building. Lumiere was an expensive, fine dining French restaurant that had opened only months before. She’d been dying to try it out.

A man in a suit opened the door for them as they entered. “Bonjour, madam et monsieur.” He gave them the once-over coolly, nodded in approval. “Table for two?”

“We have reservations for Jacobs,” Riley told him kindly.

“Ah yes, follow me.”

He led them to a table in the back where only candles lit the room, and soft music played. There Riley spotted her brother, Ben and his fiancée, Kim. They looked to be in an intense conversation but looked up as the man in the suit delicately cleared his throat.

“Your guests have arrived,” he stated then left.

Brett pulled Riley’s chair out for her, then sat beside her. He had met Ben and Kim before and found that he enjoyed their company very much. He could see a lot of Riley in her older brother.

“So, how have you two been?” Ben asked once the waiter, Pierre, brought out the glasses of water.

“Good,” Riley said. “Busy with work, you know?”

“Much of the same for me,” Brett said pleasantly. “And what about you two?”

Ben and Kim looked at each other and grinned. “Work and wedding plans,” Kim said.

They continued to talk throughout the evening with only a few disturbances. Several people had walked by their table and said hello to Riley, saying how they enjoyed her articles and wished to see more of her on TV. She would reply with a smile and thank them for their support in her charming way.

When it was nearing the end of their dinner, a man had approached their table wishing to speak with Brett.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he said then got up to talk with the man.

Recognizing the look in Riley’s eyes, Kim also excused herself. “I need to go touch up my makeup,” she told them before scurrying off to the ladies’ room.

Both Ben and Riley watched her in silence. “You sure know how to clear a table,” Ben joked.

“Brett wasn’t my fault,” she said.

“I know. So what did you want to talk to me about?”

Riley stared at his face. “I never said that I wanted to speak to you about anything.”

“You didn’t, no. But there is a look in your eye that says differently.”

She sighed. “Okay, so maybe I did want to talk to you about something.” Riley took a long sip of water. “I’m having second thoughts.”

“About what in particular, Rye?”

“About everything. Did I make the right decision? Or did I blow it all out of proportion? Am I happy? God, Ben, I broke his heart again. On the same goddamn day too.”

“Irony,” Ben said softly. “I can’t answer those questions for you. Although I will tell you this: I don’t think you’ll do yourself any good dwelling on the past. Five years ago you left Rimouski to make a name for yourself; that was probably your smartest decision ever. A month ago you left Nova Scotia to prove to yourself that the name you have was created by you and your talents only; that was probably your stupidest decision ever.”

Riley sat there staring at her brother. She had always admired him, had always trusted him, but she had no idea that he would say something like that to her. Over the past month dozens of people had offered their advice—none had gotten through to her like this.

She opened her mouth to speak, but shut it firmly when she saw Brett and Kim walking back to the table.

“Are we ready to head out?” Brett asked, his eyes focused on Riley.

“Yeah,” she said. “It’s getting late and I’ve got work in the morning.” She put fifty dollars on the table and then turned to her brother and soon-to-be sister-in-law. “Bye,” she said to each of them and kissed them on the cheek.

The drive back to the apartment was quiet. Brett had the car windows open a bit, letting in the warm summer night air. When they got back to the apartment, he turned to her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she replied.

“Then why is there sadness lingering in your eyes?” At her silence he pulled her in for a comforting hug. “You miss him, don’t you?”

She looked up at him. “Yeah, I’m just starting to realize it now, too.”

“No, you’re finally starting to admit it,” he corrected, tilting her face up even more with his finger. Then he leaned down and laid his lips lightly over hers, a gesture made to soothe. “Go change into something comfy, and then get some sleep.”

She nodded and pulled away from him slowly. She turned to grab her handbag off the couch and that’s when she spotted a pair of pink Converse laying by the front door. They were hers, no doubt about it, but they hadn’t been there that morning, she was sure of that. When she realized how they got there, the red handbag that she adored fell to the floor.

She had left those shoes at Sidney’s summer home in Nova Scotia in her rush to leave. And the only person who had visited the apartment the entire day was one person who she knew would have been there. Jack. The name rang through her head a thousand times, it was overwhelming. She sat on the arm of the couch, a dazed expression masking her face.

Riley was only in the apartment physically. Every other part of her was in Nova Scotia. She didn’t even notice Brett standing in front of her, didn’t feel his hands on her shoulders. Was he keeping her upright? She couldn’t feel anything.

“Riley,” she heard Brett say. “Riley? Earth to Riley? Anyone there?” He shook her slightly; she didn’t feel it. The only thing she could feel was the broken pieces of her heart aching. “Riley, damn it, say something.”

She opened her mouth, moved her lips like she was speaking, but no sound escaped. She could hear a dull buzzing in her ears and behind that was Brett’s voice telling her to say something, anything. “The shoes,” she whispered. When he only continued to look at her with worried eyes, she pointed. “The shoes, Brett.” Her voice was coming stronger. “The shoes,” she repeated in a voice that shook with hysteria. “They weren’t there this morning, or yesterday, or the day before. But they’re there now. I left them at—” She took a deep breath, so deep it hurt. “I left those shoes at Sid’s.”

Brett turned and looked at the shoes. Something jumped in his stomach. “You left them in Nova Scotia, and now they’re here. Now you’re thinking that…” It all made sense now.

“Jack. Jack wasn’t just in town. The bastard lied to me. He was in Nova Scotia with Sid, then he was here. Why? To check up on me? I wouldn’t put it past Sid to keep tabs on me. But why him? His whole bloody team is right here. Why?”

He didn’t have the answers to that questions she kept asking herself. He knew she wouldn’t want them anyway. Riley was a person who liked to figure things out herself. Brett respected that, and that’s why he said no more for the rest of the night.

This was something Riley needed to do on her own. But he’d be there for her if she needed him.

***

Jack didn’t mind planes. He had gotten used to them over the years; especially with all the traveling from city to city he had to do with hockey. He actually enjoyed those plane rides with his teammates, his friends, his brothers. They gave him time to goof around and times to think and times to sulk.

But this time he had an unusual feeling in the pit of his stomach. That feeling, he realized, was a mix of nervousness and fear. And it wasn’t because of the planes.

How would he do it? How could he? How did a man tell his friend that the girl he loved was with another man? Well, he would just have to find a way.

Jack walked up to the door and took a deep breath before knocking. He tried to compose himself in those gruelling seconds it took Sidney to open the door. Then he’d have to break his friend’s heart.

The door swung open and Jack was met with Sidney’s smiling face. The smile wavered as Sidney racked his brain for reasons his pal would be on his doorstep looking so guilty.

“Jack, what are you doing here? I thought you had to go back to L.A.” Sidney moved aside to let Jack in.

“Yeah, I lied.” He felt horrible, worse than horrible. “Sid, I—” He broke off, cursed. How would he do this? God, he hated what he had to say. Just then a thought came to mind. It could work, maybe. “Sid, pack up some clothes. The plane leaves in ten minutes.”

The Beginning of a New Chapter

The walls were a dull grey; everything in the office was the exact same desolate colour. There was one light in the entire room and there wasn’t a doubt in Riley’s mind that it hadn’t been changed in quite a while. She shifted in her chair noting that even the furniture wasn’t inviting.

“How do you work in this? It’s so depressing,” Riley said as she crossed her legs for the third time.

“Are you here for an interview or to critique my designing style?” The woman who sat across from Riley was known for her dull tastes. She had about an inch on Riley’s five-foot-seven and wasn’t afraid to use her size for power. Her hair was a light blonde and pulled back so tightly in a bun that it gave Riley a headache just looking at it.

“Sorry,” Riley muttered. “Now, Mrs. Norman, what are your thoughts on this upcoming project?”

“Well, I’ve always believed in the well being of our elders. They are always the ones who are targeted first you know. So, after witnessing some elder abuse, I decided to take a stand. My partner, Rodney, and I discussed this topic one time over brunch,” Mrs. Norman smiled politely. “We agreed that the elderly are capable of defending themselves – I mean have you seen them at their bingo?”

Forty-five minutes later, Riley walked out of the building rubbing her temples. She was going to need a tanker-load of Tylenol when she got back home. She tried to smile when she spotted Brett leaning casually against his car but it only came out as a wince.

“How’d it go?” He had an amused look on his pretty face.

“I’ve got the mother of all headaches right now.”

“Oh, come on. It couldn’t have been that bad,” he said with a small laugh.

“It could have and it was,” Riley said as she climbed into the passenger seat of his four door Ford. “First, I had to stare at her face for an hour. I know that sounds mean, but the woman wears her hair so tightly tied back her eyes were practically popping out of her head. Then she made these jokes,” she said, her voice going up an octave, “it was about as funny as watching a cat die.

“The room,” her voice was pleading now. “It just screams boring. Everything is this dull grey, it’s like prison. No, it’s worse than prison.”

“Maybe some lunch will brighten your spirits,” Brett said in a hopeful voice as he pulled into his parking space at his condo.

Cheesy Post

What is love?

Love is an emotion, love is an idea, love is a dream, and love is someone's last wish. Love is overpowering. Love is empowering.

Love makes you silly, love makes you happy, love makes you crazy, and love makes you stupid. Love is the reason for the feeling of forty thousand butterflies in your stomach at the sight of a certain person. Love is that instantaneous smile that appears on your face when you see them.

Love makes the world go round. Love is everything.

Love changes people, some for the better, and some for the worst. You can be the most independent, self-sufficient person there is, but when you fall victim to this emotion, you are irrevocably changed. You become dependent on that person, you care about them so much that it hurts.

When they smile, you smile. When they hurt, you hurt.

Love is uplifting; it can pull you out of any depression. Love shines a light on all that darkness. Love makes you feel on top of the world.

But when it's gone, nothing feels right. When you let the love of your life slip through your fingers, there is no worse feeling. The aching in your heart is painful enough, real enough to make you believe that your heart is physically breaking. No amount of drugs or alcohol can take that pain away; neither can crying until you become dehydrated.

Distracting yourself with other things, whether that is a new hobby, a new 'love', burying yourself in work, or inflicting more pain to yourself, will only take your mind away from the heartbreak for a little while. The thoughts, the memories, the old feelings and the new feelings all come surging back the moment your mind is clear. And then it's like you can feel your heart tearing to tiny, jagged pieces all over again. Each and every time you relive this, the pain gets stronger.

You want to hate this person with every part of your broken self, but you can't.
You can't because you still love them and you hate yourself for that. Forgiveness isn't easy, but it is necessary.

In order to move on, you need to forgive the person who hurt you. Only then will you allow yourself some peace of mind. Through forgiving, you'll allow yourself the chance to be happy, the chance to feel alive again, the chance to be free.

And then, just maybe, you'll fall in love with someone new.

Only this time, the feeling will be different. You'll know what love feels like so you'll cherish every beautiful moment of it. You'll also know what heartbreak feels like so you'll try your hardest to never make this person feel that way. And you will always mentally prepare yourself for another painful goodbye.

The excitement of your first love will always be with you and so will the pain of your first heartbreak. But you owe it to yourself to take these experiences and learn from them.

Love changes people.

Once you've been in love, you will never be the same.

That Arena Feeling

The lights were set to a low dim, the announcer’s voice boomed. The crowd roared as spotlights displaying the picture of a large, fierce-looking penguin criss-crossed over the freshly cleaned, glimmering ice. The chants began just seconds before the home team stepped on the ice. The crowd got louder.

A few boos where hollered when the visiting team stepped on. Both teams, consisted of twenty men each, warmed up on their end of the ice. Both set up in the widely popular butterfly drill. Pucks crossed from end to end, passed tape to tape, and shot into the net. Some stretched, some were being interviewed, and some skated around scoping for colourful, homemade signs with witty sayings on them.

Everything came to a halt when the national anthems were sung. Five skaters and a goalie of each team stood on the ice and faced the flags; the other fifteen players stood on their corresponding benches and bowed their heads in respect.

As the home team’s national anthem began, the crowd cheered and sang along loudly, their hands on their hearts.

Once over, they prepared for the puck to drop and the show to begin.