Chapter 21

Magnus

Jennie’s birthday came and went near the end of March. She was too interested in buying baby things and making our house a home to care about turning twenty-nine. I did my best to celebrate the day anyway with a perfect bouquet of flowers—which she slammed on the counter to make them more traditional, per our history—and three pints of Ben & Jerry’s. My woman was easy to please. I’d also bought her a non-expiring gift certificate for a day at a local spa. I had to assume she’d need some “me” time after the baby was born. It made her cry. I didn’t take it to heart, though. Jennie had always had tender feelings, but as the pregnancy progressed, they were even closer to the surface.

Instead of being freaked out by it, as I was in the beginning, I began to cherish her reactions. Some were a little elevated from her increased hormone levels, but they were still real. Jennie was a sentimental fool, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

In the NHL, I was looked at as a tough motherfucker. And I wanted that. It worked for me there. That status aided me in the game, but not at home. At home, I was the kind of man my father was. I was the kind of man who loved his wife to distraction and did everything he could to ensure the well-being of the mother of his child. I never felt more manly than when my wife was healthy and happy.

When I didn’t feel so tough was when I thought about my surgery looming on the horizon. I only admitted it to myself, but I was scared.

It wasn’t the surgery itself that scared me. I could endure whatever medical issues I had to deal with. I feared the changes. People who’d never experienced deafness couldn’t possibly understand—and I certainly didn’t blame them. Getting hearing back was a life-altering thing. If I took a poll, I’d guess almost everyone asked would wonder why any deaf person would even hesitate at the chance of getting their hearing back, but it wasn’t that simple. It wasn’t black and white. I’d learned, successfully, how to communicate with most anyone in the last eighteen years of my deaf life. I knew how to do that. It was scary to think of giving that up. I was comfortable in my world.

There were no guarantees with a cochlear implant either. I could possibly hear well or hear nothing more than the silence I lived with now. My body could completely reject the implant or I could simply hate sounds that came through. As much as Jennie supported me, and oh God did she support me, she couldn’t really help me with this. She could back me unconditionally, like she did, but she couldn’t feel what I felt. As much as I tried to explain, she couldn’t experience what I did. This was up to me.

It was already mid-April. The Breakers were halfway through our first round in the playoffs. My surgery was tentatively scheduled for June fifteenth. If we were going to do so, the Cup would be ours by then. If fate saw otherwise, I could call to reschedule for an earlier date. Either way I’d potentially have my hearing back in time for our baby to arrive.

I had one constant in my life. One precious, reliable constant. My wife. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to be more beautiful, sweetheart.”

My hands were resting on her tiny baby bump while we sat on the couch watching TV. I was ecstatic that she’d finally started to show. I stroked and kissed her belly more often then she’d prefer, I was sure. “You okay?”

She’d gotten used to my annoying daily question enough that she stopped reprimanding me and just answered. Yes, dear. I wouldn’t kill you if you got me some smoking hot salsa and celery sticks, though. We’d really gotten the hang of talking this way. Since she was sitting in front of me leaning against my chest, it was kind of like reading backward. We’d created our own backward sign language.

We’d also started this food game. She pretended to only want healthy things, and I pretended that I’d misunderstood her when I gave her a handful of tortilla chips along with her requested celery.

I carried a tray into the living room and placed it on the coffee table, taking a seat across from her. “How do you eat this stuff?” I used to think I liked hot food, until I met Jennie. The spices she loved burned my tongue for hours—and then she got pregnant. I wasn’t man enough to try to eat the things she did now. “My nose is burning just from smelling it.”

She continued munching on her fire-from-hell salsa while we chatted. I love it so much. Thank you for going all the way to Hammonton to get it for me. I could bathe in this stuff.

“Probably peel the skin right from your body.” I turned back to the TV but didn’t make a move to sit with her again. I concentrated on each player’s moves as I watched the replay of last night’s game.

Round one of the playoffs had started in the beginning of the week. We’d won the first three out of seven games so far. One more win and we’d move on to the next round, ending the Pens’ season. If I could just spot one weakness on the replays that would give us an edge, I’d watch the damn things on a loop.

Jennie chucked a pillow at me. It was her preferred method of getting my attention when I was captivated by the electronic babysitter, as she called it. “What?”

Are you going to watch that all day?

“Um, no?” Like any good hockey player, I obsessed over the competition, but since Jennie had been working from home, she relished any chance to have an outing.

Let’s do something. She licked her salsa-covered hands halfway through her words.

“Like what?” I had no hockey obligations for the day, although tomorrow was a different story. With a big match forthcoming, it would be good for me to get out of the house and out of my own head for a while. “Leaming’s Run Gardens in Cape May?”

Her head snapped up, all thoughts of fire-inducing salsa forgotten. “That’s a great idea. It’s the perfect time to go. Daffodils will still be blooming, grape hyacinths are out, and the plum trees are just starting to lose their beautiful white flowers.”

I’d stumbled upon Leaming’s Run last summer when I’d first come to Atlantic City. I wasn’t sure where I’d wanted to live and explored areas within an hour or so of the rink. Even though I’d settled in Ocean City, I’d enjoyed exploring Cape May.

The walk-through gardens were set in the woods, with no sounds of the outside world around them. Meandering paths wound through forest, around lakes, and through a bamboo garden.

The massive variety of flowers was surprising for such an untouched garden, although they wouldn’t all be in bloom yet. Everything planted was made to look as if it simply grew there with no outside influence. It reminded me of the nature walks I took with my father when I was a boy.

***

Look at this, Mags. A bamboo forest. This is so cool. I can’t believe I’ve never been here before. Take my picture.

I was only too happy to snap a photo of my wife. After she took one of me too, I lay down on my back so I could take a picture shooting straight up at the tall, skinny trees illuminated by thin beams of sunlight that broke through the tight clusters.

We followed the path through the bamboo and came upon the lake. What’s that noise?

I simply stared at her and she laughed. Right. It’s like a buzzing sound.

I whipped my head around, looking for bees. I hated bees, and Jennie knew it. Her hand came to my arm as she shook her head. Relax, big guy. It’s not bees.

She kept walking toward the lake, her eyes searching out the noise she heard. It’s the dragonflies. Holy cow, look at them all.

There had to be a hundred dragonflies, all varying in color, hovering above the lily pads in the water. Bright purples, greens, and hues of red darted around the lake, swooping down on their unsuspecting prey. With the mostly stagnant water, they had a bounty of midges and mosquitos to choose from.

They’re pretty, but they’re still bugs. Bees, dragonflies, and other flying things like them did not make my top ten list.

How can someone as tough as you be afraid of these guys?

I’m not afraid, Jen, I just don’t like them.

She scoffed. Like you don’t like broccoli or like you don’t like spiders?

My body gave an involuntary shudder. Spiders had their own special kind of creepy going on. Just keep walking. The gardens were pretty, but I could do without all the bugs, it was true.

Oh, now this is sweet.

We’d come across an old cabin with a low roof. Inside there was a table and one bed built into the wall. I didn’t know if it was an original structure, but if it wasn’t it was meant to look like one. We should go camping sometime. Would you want to, Jennie?

She rubbed the back of her neck, not answering me right away. Well, what do you mean by camping?

Jennie may have been into sports, but I knew that was where her love of the rougher side of things ended. She would not enjoy camping unless she had all of the comfort of modern amenities. You know. Sleeping bags, a tent, romantic campfire roaring to toast marshmallows...camping.

It was all I could do to keep a straight face. If she thought about it, she’d realize that I wasn’t a big camper myself, with my aversion to bugs and such. Some Viking I was.

So, I’m going to have to go with a no here, Mags. I’ll camp with you in a four- to five-star cabin deep in the woods on a lake, but that’s about my limit.

I pulled her back to me and wrapped my arms around her, resting my chin on her head. “I was joking. That’s about the only camping I’d do too. Sounds nice, though. Maybe we could go in the fall with the baby.”

Or maybe you’ll be playing hockey. Fall won’t work.

“Oh, yeah. How could I forget about that?” As much as I hated to even think it, hockey had taken a backseat to the rest of my life lately. It wasn’t that I didn’t love it just as much as I always did, but in the past, hockey was my life. Aside from my parents, it was my whole life. Hockey was all I cared about. That had changed.

You’re not thinking of retiring yet, are you? She turned around to face me. “I don’t need you to do that, you know. I’m fine with you having to travel. I love that you have such passion for what you do.”

I gave her lips a quick peck before I responded. “No, I don’t want to retire yet. I’ve got a couple of good years left in these old bones of mine.” Only in pro sports could mid-thirties be considered old. I was definitely already in the veteran category. “My agent’s been talking to the Breakers’ management to extend my contract. You know it’s up this year.”

“I know, and in case you’re worried about me, don’t be. Where you go, I go. Even if it’s, God forbid, Edmonton.”

“You don’t like Canada?”

“Sure. Canada’s beautiful, but Edmonton is damn cold. Too cold for me.” She kissed my chin. “But I’d still go.”

Of course she would, and I’d follow her to the end of the earth if need be. I didn’t know how we got so lucky to find each other. Life was just about perfect.