The Tales of a Future Hockey Wife

Chapter 63: Matthew Langley

~Eleanor~ ~November~

The cold November air reminds me that I didn't buy a new coat. It's not because I didn't find one that I liked, there was one at Top Shop that was exactly what I was looking for. It was black and long enough to cover my butt which is essential since I keep bending down to pick stuff the baby has fun throwing on the ground. It was also 150$ and I had to buy a car seat cover for this winter. The money Ben puts in our account barely covers both our rents, groceries and personal expenses, so I had to make a choice. Priorities is what they call it. I try to cover up the fact that the strong wind is chilling me to the bones as I walk into a Tim Hortons. I don't even know why I agreed to come here. Maybe it's because I haven't talked to another adult face to face that wasn't a cashier since Ben left four months ago. Matthew called about a week ago. He had seen the blog and the attention it was getting. I had almost a million visitors since I started posting, and many women started to write to me every time I added an entry. It was really gratifying to read all of the comments telling me I was doing great and that they were thinking of me. Matthew stumbled across it after a woman at the publishing company he works at asked him if I was the Eleanor from Windsor with the amazing writing talent he kept talking about since he came back. He told me he wanted to meet to talk about a project he had in mind. This is why I agreed, I think. To talk with someone who can answer with more than a goofy, toothless smile.

A nice man holds the door for me as I try to push the stroller inside. Ophelia thanks him with a smile and a clap of her hands and I mutter a soft thank you to the man. Matthew is already sitting at a table near the window. He waves when he sees me, a huge smile on his face that probably matches Ophelia's. I sit down in front of him, placing the stroller so I can see my daughter's face. I tried to plan everything in advance. She ate and I changed her diaper before we left. We should be good for about three hours even if I hope to leave way before then.

"Hey," he says, looking directly in my eyes.

"Your hair is longer," I announce. "And you changed your glasses," I complete, making him chuckle. His hair that was cut short is now hanging just above his shoulders. I hope he doesn't ask me if I like it because I don't want to lie. It makes his round face even rounder, and his hair is too straight to be kept long. He looks like one of those dogs who could be easily taken for a mop. An Afghan Hound, I found the name. I'm glad because it would have bothered me for the entire meeting.

"Yes, and yes, I did. You look the same, though." It's my turn to chuckle. I don't look the same at all. My hair is in such a mess because I didn't have time to wash it this morning. The bags under my eyes turned purple after weeks of Ophelia waking up ten times per night crying her eyes out. I don't know the last time I washed the clothes I am wearing, and, even if he can't see it, there is a hole in my right sock that makes my big toe stick out.

"Don't lie to me, please," I say as seriously as possible. He raises his hands in surrender.

"What do you want to drink? I'll go get it for you," he asks, getting up from his chair.

"Medium coffee two sugars, please. Could you get me a blueberry muffin too, please?" He nods. I smile at Ophelia who smiles back. I move my hands in front of her face and she extends her fingers to grab mine. She brings them to her mouth, but I take them back before she coats them in saliva. Her blonde hair is slowly darkening to become what looks like the same dark brown shade as Ben. The color of her eyes is still unclear, but according to the genetics website I consulted, her eyes will either be blue or green since mine are blue and Ben's are green.

Sooner than I expected, a white mug and a muffin are set in front of me. "There you go," Matthew says with a smile. He got a coffee for himself and a Canadian Maple just like the first time we saw each other. I hand him a five-dollar bill to cover my part, but he declines it. I argue with him about it but end up putting the bill back in my wallet.

"How is Ben doing in Germany?" Small talk, huh? Alright, I'm good at small talk. I haven't done small talk in a while.

"Good, they've got a pretty good chance at making it to the playoffs even if I think he's lonely. There's only one other player who speaks English, so it's hard, but he enjoys it. He's learning a lot," I say before taking a bite of my muffin. He asked them to heat it and I'm glad. It warms me from the inside.

"That's good, but I bet it's easier for him over there than for you over here." Who does he think he is to tell me stuff like that? Even Olive didn't say it even if we both know that it's the truth.

"Why am I here, Matthew? I can call you Matthew, right? Now that you're not my teacher." He laughs even if I tried to sound as serious as possible.

"It's not like you didn't before. And you're here because I have something to offer you," he says smiling down at my daughter. He looks at me and I nod, inviting him to continue. "My editor saw your blog and she would be interested in giving you a book deal." My heart stops before starting to beat at an uncontrollable rhythm. "Only thing is that since nobody knows who you are, we would have to write the book together. That way, we'll get more attention." A book? Somebody wants to give me money to write a book and then publish it?

"A book about what?" is the first thing that comes out of my mouth. I don't know why I didn't say thank you or even ask why somebody would want to give me a book deal. My brain feels like jelly right now and the last time I felt that way, I got a baby, so I'm not sure how I should act.

"Don't worry, it's not going to be a boring dystopian novel about impossible stuff. It's a book about love. It could be your story, romanticized of course, but the outline would be your story with Ben." I chuckle at the first part and scowl at the second. He wants me to write about my story with Ben with him?

"What you'll play Ben and I'll play me? Just like in PLL when Aria writes a book with Ezra about his ex-girlfriend?" I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that someone wants to pay me to write, so excuse me if my references aren't the best.

"I have no idea what you're talking about but sure. And we'll have to do it in New York."