Page 67 of Tainted Love

It still amazes me how both of my parents were complete failures at raising their two sons. As a result, they’re both gone to who knows where, and the last I heard, my older brother was serving a twenty-four-month prison sentence for breaking and entering. I’m sure drugs were involved as well. I don’t talk to my brother. That’s a hard boundary for me. My therapist would be so proud.

All these years later my grandmother remains the most important person in my life. She’s nearly ninety years old, and ironically, now that I can change her life and move her close to me with around-the-clock care, she declines to leave. She feels the altitude here will be too difficult on her, and she tells me she’s adamant that she’s happy at Rose Meadows. She has friends and visitors, including Sascha’s parents and Sash. Sascha is unaware I know about that.

I visit every chance I get, and I’ve been known to bribe the staff to take extra special care of her. It’s not what I envisioned, but she’s happy, and that’s all that matters.

Now, as I glide gracefully across the ice, I’m grateful for all the challenges that have led me here. Sascha may not want to admit or even realize it, but she has played a monumental role in shaping my journey and bringing me to where I am today.

She’s stoic in her disposition and humble about the various people she and her parents have helped over the years, but that doesn’t make what they’ve done any less impactful. Donald, Frances, and Sascha Bell are partly responsible for saving me from getting stuck in our small town, working a dead-end job all day and drinking in the local tavern every night.

Since I entered the league as a rookie, I’ve wanted her to watch me play in person. And now, with her presence here tonight and the possibility of working together for the organization, my body is amped with adrenaline. I will put on one hell of a show tonight for Sascha Bell.

Chapter 29

“Come As You Are”

Sascha - Age 24, 1994

Hockey has been a distant memory for years, save for the occasional visit home and catching a local game with The Mavericks. Landry is still playing there, although more as a mentor and assistant coach than a player. But every time I walk into that arena, an overwhelming surge of emotions flood my senses. The atmosphere is still charged with the same energy, but now two shiny new banners proudly hang from the rafters, honoring their current NHL players—Corey Delacour and Michael Tazman. Everything appears familiar on the outside yet feels inexplicably altered.

When I venture into Donnelly Ice Center, I can’t help but recall the days when Ivy, Kerri, Sarah, and I would go to the games together. Memories of laughter and camaraderie flood my mind and warm my body to my soul. Despite not always being enthusiastic about going, I always had a good time.

These days, I sit amongst strangers, the seats beside me noticeably vacant. My friends’ absence is a gaping hole in the stands and my heart. I leave feeling deflated and sad instead of excited like I used to.

I tried to convince Ivy to come once, but it was a disaster. She couldn’t handle being back in that arena and burst into tears before taking her first bite of popcorn. It was a real bummer for both of us. She tried to stick it out, wiping her snot and tears on her old sweatshirt and trying to smile between heaving sobs, but in the end, I dragged her out of there early and took her to the mall instead for some shopping and ice cream therapy.

For a long time, I thought she’d never be able to be present at another hockey game. Her breakup with Corey Delacour hit them both harder than either was willing to admit.

Thankfully, the stars aligned, and their paths again crossed at Sarah’s wedding. Not to pat myself on the back too much, but I knew they were meant to be together. I never doubted it, even when they were apart.

Their backgrounds led to sharp sides and odd angles, and they would never fit together with anyone else, no matter how hard they forced it. What Corey lacks, Ivy possesses, and vice-versa. It’s been that way since the first day they met. I’m not sure I believe in love at first sight, but I was there the first time they laid eyes on one another, and I know what I saw: the feelings were undeniable.

It was clear she didn’t want to be noticed. It drew me in, wanting to know the lost little bird, and also caught the eye of the one person in our school who she couldn’t hide from.

Gradually, she shed her shy exterior and blossomed into her confident self. With each passing day, she grew alongside us, surpassing her own expectations and becoming truly remarkable.

And now my lost bird is all grown up. She recently chucked away her life in our small hometown and took a plane to Boston to throw herself on the altar of love. It was very John Hughes and very rock and roll. I’ve never been more proud of her.

Her plan worked, and Corey welcomed her with open arms. He had been waiting for her all along, his romantic soul never giving up hope. He recently proposed to her in an elaborate fashion that included a special park in our hometown, a shit-ton of flowers, and an Edmonton jersey with the name ‘Ivy Delacour’ embroidered on it. It was super cute if you like that sappy crap.

Speaking of rock and roll, Ivy is about to unveil her memoir chronicling the harrowing years spent with the cult known as “The Voice of the Sky,” which is the book’s title. I’ve read it, and it’s awesome, albeit a lot crazy. The pages are filled with tales of utter lunacy and unthinkable atrocities committed by the cult members. But amidst the madness, my best friend emerged as a fierce, resilient woman forged by fire.

I often wonder what I would have done in her shoes. The thought never fails to send shivers down my spine. Perhaps, knowing myself, I wouldn’t have lasted a week in her situation. My impulsive nature and sarcastic sense of humor would likely have pissed people off and led to my demise. But not Ivy. That woman is a true survivor, as tough as they come.

She and Corey are about to head to Edmonton, where he will no doubt make his name as one of the best rookies in the NHL this year. That reminds me. He called about something and told me it was important and to call him back. I make a mental note to check in with him after this week is over.

As the clock approaches 7 pm, I feel a surge of anxiety as I realize it’s time for the call I’ve been dreading all day. My relationship with a new guy I’ve been seeing has been shaky from the beginning, and this call may be the breaking point.

We first met at Sarah’s wedding. I remember his eyes meeting mine from across the room, but we didn’t have much chance to talk amidst the chaos of the event. I was too busy trying to calm down a jittery Sarah and ensuring Ivy didn’t have a nervous breakdown during the ceremony.

Then, in a moment of weakness, I found myself in Michael’s arms. It wasn’t my finest moment, but sometimes, we all need a way to release our emotions. After all, I never claimed to be flawless or immune to temptation, especially if it comes in the package of Michael Tazman.

Not long after that, Matt contacted me through a mutual acquaintance. He lives not too far from me, and while I was intrigued by him at first, I have doubts about our potential for a lasting relationship.

He harbors insecurities about my success and ambitious nature. He’s never said anything outright, but he’s said some things that make me believe he would like me to conform to his traditional expectations of what a woman should be: barefoot and pregnant. That is not me. Maybe someday, but certainly not right now. He’s going to learn that the hard way if that is, in fact, his expectation of this relationship.

I dial the phone on the conference room table, and after two rings, his deep voice rumbles through the receiver. “Hello?”

“Hi there,” I say.