The Zamboni .37

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Patrick

As if my situation I'm in wasn't difficult enough, I had to leave Chicago right after I found Valerie again. And it was hard. To explain to her that after everything we got out and was left in the open I was leaving her again. Hell me leaving all the time was part of the problem. It's hard for me to justify giving us a chance when I'm gone for so long. When she has to get left behind so often. As much as I want to never have to leave her again, there isn't much I can do about that.

And now it's my birthday and we're in LA playing the Kings. I usually love being here but such a big part of me was left behind. It doesn't even feel like a special day. In fact I feel kinda shitty. The messages have been sweet and the guys put together a nice breakfast but I just feel unsettled. I knew where I need to be right now, but instead I'm here.

After the team breakfast I get back to my hotel. I let myself up to my room and I was about to go in, but I see the light in the room peaking out under the door. I know for a fact I turned it off before leaving so someone had been here. I'm sure it was someone doing something for my birthday or housekeeping just trying to help out but I just wasn't in the mood to entertain anyone.

I slip the key into the slot and open the door. I expect to see a manager or a teammate decorating the room with like three balloons and maybe a cupcake. Instead I see dozens of balloons floating up on the ceiling and a lot of good smelling food.

I look around for a second before I finally spot the culprit. And I couldn't believe my eyes.

"Val" I gasp.

She turns around with a smile on her face and I felt like I was gonna pass out. This is the last person I thought I would see today, but also the only person I truly wanted to be around.

Without wasting a single second I run over to her and press my lips against hers. I didn't have time to think about what we were, the labels or the meaning or anything of that. I was with her and that was the only place I wanted to be.

Her hands get tangled in the back of my shirt as I try to control the butterflies. But that's easier said than done when my emotions were all over the place. We eventually break apart but her grip on my shirt doesn't loosen.

"Well that was a greeting" she giggles.

"I just needed you to know how happy you make me" I admit.

"Message received" she smirks.

I give her one more kiss before breaking apart. I take her hand in mine not ready to let her go yet.

"How did you get here" I ask.

"I flew. It took the rest of my money I had saved up but I think it was worth it" she explains.

"Valerie..." I trail off.

"I don't want a lecture. I can't be broke a thousand miles away from home and you upset with me. If you want me to spend money on something that makes me happy, let me be here with you. I would spend every last dime I have to have a few moments with you, so don't be upset with me" she insists.

I cup her cheek with my free hand and smile. "How could I possibly be upset with you? You're all I want after all" I admit.

"Good because besides me being here and making lunch I didn't get you a gift. I have a job lined up in Chicago and I started yesterday but the money hasn't come in yet. Luckily I had this planned for a while and they let me take a few days off" she explains.

"You had this planned" I wonder.

"Yeah. Back in September honestly. I never imagined we would meet up like this. But I wanted to be with you, I knew that much" she nods.

"This is the greatest gift ever. Thank you for being here" I say squeezing her hand.

We sit down and enjoy the nice lunch she made. I smile like a idiot as I listen to her tell me about her new job working at a day care with the 3-5 year olds. She just beams about being able to work with kids and all she will be able to do as a part of their lives. My eyes stare through her for so long I barley touch my food.

"Please stop staring at me" she begs as she collects our plates.

"I'm sorry, you're just so beautiful. I don't think there's anything else I could look at in this life that could compare to you" I defend.

She turns to hide the inevitable blush on her pale cheeks. I help her with the dishes before I toss the dry rag over my shoulder.

"So when do you leave" I wonder.

"Tomorrow morning. And you have a game tonight so I don't know what I thought was going to happen. Honestly just seeing you was enough for me" she admits.

"I can get you tickets to the game, if that's what you would like" I try.

"I actually would. I think I'm getting the hang of the hockey stuff. Checking and passing and all that jazz. Oh! And the Zamboni" she cheers.

"That would be your favorite part" I accuse.

"It's just as exciting" she smiles.

We work out some tickets and she spends the rest of the afternoon watching movies with me. Usually I take a pregame nap and work out. But I would much rather spend time with the girl who would just throw away all her money to come see me for a few hours on my birthday. I still can't believe she came all this way. Especially with how we left off, so uncertain about what we are. What we want to be moving forward. Together was enough for right now until we can figure it out.

Eventually it comes time for us to say goodbye and I in the team bus then to the arena. I hum a happy song to myself and I start to throw on pads and tape.

"What's got you cheesing so hard. Just this morning I thought you were going to be crying for your entire birthday" Jonathan accuses.

"Maybe I just needed to get away from you" I insist.

"Not likely" he tries.

"Not impossible either" I mumble.

"I have a theory" he accuses.

"Oh this should be good" I groan.

"I think Valerie is here" he claims.

No bad.

"Maybe she is" I try.

"Oh she is. She's the only one who can pull you out of one of your moods" he accuses.

"Well you're right. She's here and she's actually coming to the game" I confess.

"Seriously" he questions.

"Yeah. Is that so hard to believe" I ask.

"Not really. I just know she's not really the type" he says.

"She's not. But luckily for me she'll break her rules for me" I smile.

Moving Mountains (Patrick Kane)Where stories live. Discover now