A/N: Thanks Jad for that delicious idea!
Chapter 329: Robinson III—Take Any Chances…
Tomorrow it will be ours. Tomorrow. When was the last time he had felt this excitement, just last year, but it felt so long ago. He had savored each time it happened when he was a player; he had taken pride in being that big lanky defenseman, the rangy defenseman who helped his teams win championships. Different this time, he watched his men, his boys on the ice, they did the job, they obeyed they created, and he could do little more than give the commands. Robinson had never felt so scrutinized and so useless sometimes as he did as a coach.
Still, he had to admit, excitement, the smells, the voices, being the lone voice of reason, being the one they looked to without question, he liked this. Two in a row at hand, two in a row special. He looked at the faces of his players, into Steven’s pale eyes, and he wanted to tell them how special and elite two Stanley Cups in a row would make them.
But I think too far, Larry thought with a sigh. I think ahead. I think foolishly. Never before had he caught himself daring to believe that a cup was at hand until the last seconds of a deciding game. Thinking too far ahead in confidence like that belonged to rookies and deluded fans.
Larry inhaled on his cigarette, exhaled slowly, watched the smoke twirl away from him and felt his blood pulse with nicotine, calmed, slow. He grinned and closed his eyes. Patrick had tottered like a two year old child, like the boy he remembered from so long ago, stubbornly went after that puck, stubbornly threw away that game. Patrick had not even shown a spark of life in the last game, he had coughed up each goal so simply. Patrick was not a young boy anymore; Larry held his breath, daring to believe the boy’s spirit to be broken.
That’s the reason why we will have it tomorrow. I feel so smug. Why? Patrick had never done anything to hurt me. He had the eyes of pained child sometimes, he was so innocent, so trusting always trusting, why am I amused at his pain? It isn’t him.
We can still be friends…. My poor Big Bird…. My poor stork…..
It’s her.
Larry sat up straight and he frowned.
It’s her!
Michele had her arms crossed, her purse hanging down, resting against her upper thigh. He saw her across the restaurant, she hadn’t seen him yet. She stood alone, her eyes narrowed, looking for someone. Patrick no doubt? Still at it, she couldn’t leave anything alone. Wives were not supposed to visit with their husbands during playoff roadtrips, what the hell did she care?
Larry sighed and leaned back in his chair. He took another drag off his cigarette and looked at her. Fourteen years ago he made love to her on a bathwater soaked bed, her hair had been fluffed and overdone, her perfume strong and cheap, her smile nasty, her body pale and soft and frail, nursing inside the thing that tore her away from him. She had grinned with self satisfaction when she told him, smug, ungrateful, and knowing all along how she would hurt him.
And the last time alone with her, she had given birth to Jonathan, nursed him in front of Larry, and flaunted the baby. He had cried. She gloated over that. There she stood, her hair frosted and twirled but no longer sprayed and teased. She looked slimmer, hungrier, not a girl but a creature, a predatory creature.
She looked at him now.
Larry nodded.
She smiled.
Larry held out his hand.
Michele brushed past the head waiter, her head held high on her scrawny neck. Her smile seemed genuine, he saw the roguish twinkle in her eye and he hardened in his pants. Other than his wife, Larry had not reacted that way to a woman in years. Of course she would reawaken him.
“Hello,” Michele smiled. “Larry so good to see you, it’s been… well when was the last time we talked eh?”
Her English had improved but only barely, her accent grated thick. “Years, my dear,” Larry replied in French, signaling to her how he would prefer to talk.
“Of course,” she replied airily and she sat at the table. “Is Jeannette here?”
“No,” Larry replied, “But company is always welcome.”
“Larry Robinson will never be happy alone,” Michele nodded and then she ordered an iced tea from the waiter. She sat with straight shoulders, her hands folded with dainty fingers entwined on the table, her wedding ring glinting gold. No longer did she have that girlish slump in her stance that defeated slump.
“Sometimes I like being alone,” Larry said and he looked at her pointedly.
Michele tilted her head to one side and brushed a feathering of loose blonde hair behind her ear. “But not today.”
“Are you looking for Patrick?” He asked.
She frowned. “No of course not, you know management is against women.”
“What?” Larry asked.
Michele giggled and she leaned forward, snatching the cigarette from his fingers. “I haven’t had one of these since I was a girl.” She inhaled off it, coughed and laughed.
Larry took it back, but in that instant he forgave her for everything. He smiled at her as she wiped tears from her eyes, still laughing. “And you shouldn’t start now.”
Michele sighed and sipped water. “No danger of it yes?”
“What’s this about management?” Larry asked.
Michele rolled her eyes. “Oh it is nothing is it not? Do not worry.”
“Hey kids, what are we up to?”
Larry withheld a groan which Michele did not when Barry Melrose plopped his large body into the remaining empty seat at the small table. He smiled gamely, “Hi Barry.”
Barry didn’t look at him at all; however, Larry felt the hair on his arms stand up when Barry looked straight at Michele, not bothering to hide his thoughts. “Well hello Mrs. Roy. Shouldn’t you be comforting your husband?”
Michele lifted an eyebrow. “I feel like having a cigarette with Larry.” She reached her hand forward and Robinson dutifully handed her his cigarette. She didn’t take a drag off it however. She just held it daintily.
“I see that…” Barry’s smile lingered.
“Having a good time so far?” Larry asked.
“Sure, having a blast,” Barry said. “Didn’t I say Devils in six…” he turned back to Michele. “Forgive me Mrs. Roy.”
“Not a problem,” Michele said lightly and she accepted her tea from the waiter. “I found a way to beat you in ’93,” She leaned forward, “I had a baby.”
Larry
laughed.
Michele
grinned tightly and took a long drink from the iced tea. Larry noticed how
Michele smiled prettily. “Would you like a drink, Barry?”
“Sure if
you’re paying.”
“I would, but it’s up to Larry.”
Larry saw the twinkle in her eyes, a slight wink, Barry looked at him expectantly. Larry took his cue. “I’m not paying for anymore drinks tonight, and neither are you Mimi.”
Barry laughed a cackling, throaty laugh. He stood up, “I get the hint, I get it. I’ll leave you two alone, just be glad I don’t tell Patty what you’re up to young lady.”
“And what am I up to my love?” Michele grinned.
Barry shook his head and he leaned into Robinson, whispered loudly, “Watch it Larry, she’ll hamstring ya.”
Larry shook his head. He looked back at Michele who took a long inhale off his cigarette, smoothly and effortlessly and she slowly let a curl of smoke seep from her lips. “He’s right my love, I will.”
“You did once before,” Larry said. “I doubt you can do it again.”
Michele nodded, took another inhale and handed him the cigarette. Larry kissed the back of her palm. “You’re coming with me my pet, you’re mine tonight.” He imagined Patrick lying awake, knowing he had lost his last chance for a championship to him, not knowing that he had also lost his wife’s support. The little tramp must know that Patrick was beaten, and here she was, crawling to the winner.
Michele slowly stood up, her eyes glowing with delight. “You’re staying in a hotel, here in your home town?”
“The whole team is sequestered for the playoffs,” Larry replied. “We don’t need distractions.”
“Of course you don’t…”
“Oh God I’m sorry,” Larry moaned, he couldn’t even look at her face, or imagine the pity or irritation in her eyes. He didn’t want it. He pulled away from her body and pressed his palms to his face. He felt his cheeks burn and he didn’t know what he could do, how he could remedy this. “I don’t know why this is happening.”
Michele rolled over, he could hear her movement and her hand brushed over his arm, slid to his hands and pried one of them off his face. He looked at her smiling eyes, “Am I so unattractive to you now?”
Larry touched her cheek, the skin soft, but only because of creams and good diet, not the softness he remembered her to be as a girl, a spoiled teenager. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. This hasn’t happened since I was fourteen.”
Michele sat up and he peered at her. Her blouse hung open but not off, pale lace of a bra peeked at him, her pants he had pulled off her, crumpled by the side of the bed. He gazed at the shadows on her skin, the perfect lines of her body, wiry now, muscled from whatever faddish exercise rich women preferred. “When was the last time you were with a woman other than your wife, eh?”
“A girl,”
Larry murmured, “A girl in
“:Jonathan?” Michele gasped. She ran her fingers through her loose hair and sighed. “No wonder, you’ve been fucking boys for the past thirteen years?”
Larry grimaced; he reached out and touched her slim thigh. No longer slim and soft, slim and hard with muscle like a young man. “Take it as a compliment little girl.” He slapped her lightly and keeping his eye on that peachy tan leg he sat up and kissed her there. Her fingers slid through his hair, pulled at it slightly, he kissed higher up to her tummy, he heard her sigh and he grabbed her skin in his teeth.
“Are you remembering something?” She whispered. He looked up into her eyes, steely, cruel eyes, expecting eyes. All of her words, her slaps, her scratches, her taunts, her goading for him to go harder on her, crueler, rougher, filled his mind, shot through his belly and into his groin, filling him and firing him.
She gasped and he felt her hard and tense under his own body when he pinned her down, she clawed the back of his neck but her eyes lit up with excitement, not a trace of fear. “Are you remembering?” She whispered.
Larry slid his hand underneath her neck and he lifted her face to his, he kissed her hungrily and she wrapped her arms around him pulled herself into his lap, he pulled off her blouse felt a sheen of sweat build between them. She sighed into his ear, igniting the rest of him and within the moment they were joined again. “Oh you sweet thing,” he groaned.
“Did you have something done?” Larry asked, oddly, the first thing on his mind and he thought to blurt it as Michele came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel and glistening from a shower.
Michele frowned. “What?”
“You’re different.”
“Well I’m… older…”
She sat down on the edge of the bed and he touched her collar bone and pushed off her towel. He kissed her between her breasts. “Not that I don’t like it,” he murmured, “But I remember how charming they used to be, so innocent.”
“Oh you shit!” Michele snapped and she pushed him off and covered herself up. “You try nursing three babies and see how you hold up.”
Larry smiled and she crossed her arms.
“I didn’t have implants, I just… had things tightened…oh it’s none of your business you swine.”
“I love you,” Larry said, surprised how easily it fell from his lips. He didn’t think he meant it completely but he wondered how she would answer.
“That’s nice,” she replied and she rolled her hair behind her head, clipped it. “It’s getting late, you should be fresh tomorrow, would you like me to leave?”
“I’d like you to stay actually.”
She looked at him, a crease between her eyebrows. “For certain?”
Larry nodded.
Michele clicked off the light and she pulled back the covers, and threw her towel onto the carpet. Larry rolled onto his belly; he just wanted to sleep with her next to him, the final stamp of his ownership. She seemed to sense it, and she rested her naked body on his back, soft breasts, warm skin, all of it caressing him. She kissed the back of his neck and he thought of the first night with her, when she tried hitting him with a glass of water. Stupid child.
“What did
you mean about management being against women? Is
“It’s always been like this,” she whispered. “You know this.”
“I know we’ve been bad to ladies, of course I know,” Larry murmured, “But those were harsh words.”
“It’s just funny,” Michele said her breath warm on his neck. “How frightened you men are by women, how evil you think we are yes?”
Larry shifted his weight and Michele moved off him and hugged a pillow. He looked at her dark form. “How so?”
“Oh this playoff thing, your players cannot be home, my husband goes more celibate than a monk, because you hold it as such fact that us dirty, dirty women will suck the life out of you, we will steal some vital essence from your playoff bodies, no we mustn’t see our husbands hm? It’s wrong, it’s unhealthy.”
Larry laughed. “Sure I guess so.”
“You need the power of your naked bodies in that communal shower, reinforcing your manhoods, you silly boys.”
“It’s always been that way… you’re right but why bring it up now?”
Michele sighed. “I think about it a lot, but… oh I don’t know. Larry your French has become so terrible; does Jeannette never speak it with you?”
“Oh hell.”
Michele giggled and sank into her pillow, she sighed like a girl in comfort.
He caressed her cheek. “Why did you come here with me?”
“Oh because you will lose tomorrow, Patrick will destroy you, and,” she yawned, “And I wanted you to have something nice to remember. Think of it as… as pre-tragedy comforting.”
“Oh you little bitch,” Larry snapped he sat up glaring at her but feeling his heart hammering with distrust and fear. But why? What could she do to him?
She’ll hamstring you….
“I’m only telling the truth.”
“Patrick is beat, Michele,” he said loudly, he felt his palms tremble. “You know it, that’s why you came crawling here.”
Michele yawned. “But you let me crawl in here. I’m a dirty woman Larry, I’ve stolen your energy can’t you feel it? And Patrick sleeps quietly in bed and tomorrow you will lose.”
“Oh shut up!” Larry snarled. “What effect could you fucking me have on my boys, nothing. You’re just…”
“Teasing,” Michele cut in. “And I see you took the joke nicely. I was mocking the superstitions of you men, and you act as if I could actually…”
“Oh I’m just old and cranky,” Larry grumbled. “Just… let’s just go to sleep.”
In the morning no trace of her remained save the scent of her in the bed and the marks on the sheets. He felt miffed. She had just left him. Of course she would leave before any of the boys saw her; she wouldn’t want much rumor to spread, or Patrick to hear of it. But he had least wanted to tell her goodbye.
A note on the nightstand. He grabbed it.
“When we’re
in
Larry scowled. He crumpled it and threw it in the trash. “You have no fucking effect on me or my team!” He snarled. “NONE you bitch.” He closed his eyes and covered his eyes. Goddman Larry you’re overreacting, she’s teasing again. You’re acting like she’s an actual witch or vampire, you dumb shit. She only wanted a good boning cause her shithead of a husband doesn’t put out. Nothing she can do to me could affect the team, she’s just psyching you out you superstitious shit.
He found it hard to stop staring at the trash bin as he brushed his teeth; the thought of it egged him as he showered. Finally he stomped out of the bathroom grabbed it, tore it to pieces and flushed it down the toilet. He laughed as the last bit of it disappeared.
Best not take any chances…..
0…0…0… Larry couldn’t stop staring at the number. 0…0…0… Larry felt his throat tighten; he felt it at his jaw line, at the back of his mouth, drying his palette so much so that his tongue tickled to even move. His scalp hurt, his teeth had clenched so tightly. 0…0…0… Larry closed his eyes.
He inhaled the scent of the bench, pungent and sharper than usual. When a team stank more, they feared more, they sweat more. He opened his eyes and looked at the scoreboard. 0…0…0… nothing, not a prayer left, seconds ticking down. He exhaled and looked at Patrick, avoided the questing eyes of his boys. Patrick did not look to his direction, he remained crouched and in position to stop a shot. A goal right here would not matter, they would never catch up.
0…0…0…
I was only teasing….
Evil women...
Dirty woman…
Bitch…
Whore…
Slut…
When the last seconds melted away and the stunned silence of the crowd sunk in, Larry sighed and knew, he knew, that they would not win another game, even though they had a tomorrow, they didn’t have one at all. It would be silly to blame her for this. How could she have caused this? He had done nothing different. This wasn’t her fault.
Oh but it was… he knew it…she found a way, like a talented little witch she had found a way. Larry shoved his hands into his pockets and turned away from the celebrating Avalanche. “That tramp,” he muttered. “Someday you’ll pay.”