THAT EVENING, BEA found a quiet waiting area not too far from Grandma’s room, and she took her laptop with her to do some work and give me some time alone with my grandmother.
I recognized the opportunity to get some advice, and I jumped on it as soon as Grandma was awake and lucid enough to carry on a conversation.
“I need ideas,” I said, dragging my chair closer so I could hold her frail hand in mine.
“What kind of ideas? You’ve always had plenty of those, but usually the sort that’ll get you into trouble.”
I chose not to give her the satisfaction of admitting she was right; Grandma already knew she was, anyway.
“Ideas for how to get Bea more comfortable with me,” I said.
“You mean sex?”
“Not sex, exactly. More with letting me see her.”
Grandma stared. “It’s not you she’s uncomfortable with.”
“But—”
“It’s her,” Grandma cut in, and she pierced me with a hard gaze. “She needs to be more comfortable with herself. With her body.”
“But how do I make that happen?”
“You don’t. Only she can.” At my grumble of annoyance, Grandma added, “You can’t make a person think anything or feel anything they don’t want to think or feel. Life doesn’t work that way. All you can do is encourage her. Maybe help her see herself the way you see her.”
“But how do I do that?”
“You’ve got a brain between your ears. You’ve got all sorts of ideas going on in there all the time. Figure it out, Blake.”
Figure it out. Yeah. If only it were so simple.
LATER, WHILE GRANDMA napped and Bea was still in some waiting room where she could work in peace and quiet, I searched my brain to come up with something that would help Bea feel more at home in her own skin.
The only thing that came to me was to call Brie Burns.
She was married to one of my teammates, and she’d struggled with her weight for as long as I’d known her, up and down and up and down again. But she’d never seemed to lack confidence, at least outwardly in my presence, so I hoped she could be a decent starting point if nothing else.
I made sure my ringer was on silent so it wouldn’t disturb Grandma’s sleep and shot off a quick text message.
Me: Suggestions for how to get a woman more comfortable in her own skin?
Brie, responding almost as soon as I’d sent the message: I would think your grandmother has larger concerns on her mind right now…
Me: Not Grandma. A woman I’m dating.
Brie: Didn’t think you were there for dating…
Me: She lives in Portland. Just came out because of Grandma. Anyway, she used to be heavy. Won’t let me see her naked. Barely lets me touch her. Did you have issues like that?
Brie: Not exactly. Kind of, though. I’d say it was similar but still different. But body image is a big deal for a lot of women. Works itself out in unique ways for each of us. And it’s hard to feel sexy if you’re worried about your man staring at stretch marks or whatever.
Me: So how do I help her get past that?
Brie: Depends on the woman.
Me: What helped you?
Brie: I needed to learn to see myself the way Keith sees me. Help her with that.
Me: …
Brie: I don’t know who you’re talking about, so I don’t know what it’ll take. She might not know what she needs, either. She might not ever be able to see herself the way you see her. Our brains are evil that way. We’re predisposed to see the worst in ourselves. Especially women. It’s one of the curses of being born without a Y chromosome. Pretty sure it’s genetically hardwired into our brains.
Me: Yeah, tell me about it. So ideas on how I can help her see what I see?
Brie: Maybe take her to a lingerie store? Have her try some things on, and maybe let you see her in them? I don’t know… Ooh! And then do a photo shoot? I’ve seen a few online lately. Sexy ones—women of all shapes and sizes, sometimes with their partners, maybe in some slinky lingerie, which you could get her when you take her shopping first…
Me: Now there’s a thought. But would she think that was about me and not about her?
Brie: Depends on her, I guess. And on how you present the idea.
Me: So I’m screwed. That’s what you’re saying, right? I’m screwed?
Brie: Use some tact. Maybe ask Babs how to phrase things…
Me: Tact has never been a strength of mine. Not even with Babs helping me. And I don’t want him to get involved, anyway, because he might say something to Katie, who would probably say something to Dani, and I don’t want Dani involved in this.
Brie: ???
Me: Let’s just say Dani and my girlfriend are friends and Dani doesn’t approve of me.
Brie: Hmmm…
Brie again: Hey! You’re near Buffalo, right? Somewhere in upstate NY?
Me: Yeah. Why?
Brie: Q and Mia are there.
Me: And…?
Brie: And Mia is a photographer, dummy.
Me: Oh. That’s right. I forgot.
Brie: Is your girlfriend with you now?
Me: Yeah, she’s here. Not right beside me at the moment, but she’s here in NY.
Brie: Call Mia. I bet she’d be all over doing a shoot like that as long as she’s got the time. She loves capturing people—real people, not models. She’s been doing shoots lately for women who’ve had mastectomies and stuff like that. She’s awesome. And she’s good enough that she’ll be able to get all the angles and lighting right so that your girlfriend can see herself in a new way. She can help you figure something out and find a way to present it to your girl without sounding like you’re a jackass. I mean, you kind of are, but…
It was the truth, so I couldn’t even be mad at her for bringing it up.
Brie, again: And say hi to her kids from all of us.
Me: Sure. Will do.
In reality, though, I had no intention of calling Mia Quincey. Maybe she was married to a former teammate of mine, but I doubted she’d want to help me with anything.
I could be a tough pill to swallow, and I knew it.
Brie: Any idea when you’ll be back? The guys will want to get together…
Me: Why? They doing okay on the ice?
This conversation made me realize that I hadn’t even bothered looking at the scores since I’d left. I had no earthly idea how the team had been doing without me. Fuck. I should probably do something about that… What sort of hole had I left them in? They could’ve gone on a massive losing streak without me, and I wouldn’t have the first clue.
Brie: Because you’re part of the team and you’re having a hard time, and they want to show you support, dumbass.
Me: Oh. Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Well…not sure yet. A week or so? Two weeks? Depends what the doctors say, I guess.
Brie: Tell us once you know. Keith wants to have everyone over at the house. He says it’s been too long since we had a party, even if it’s about you. And tell me what Mia says once you’ve asked her about the shoot. And what your girlfriend says about the shoot. What’s her name, BTW?
Me: Bea.
Brie: Bea, as in Dani’s friend, Bea?
Me: I don’t want Dani involved in this…
Brie: Mm hmm…
Brie, again: Anyway, I want to see the pictures. If Bea’s okay with that. Make sure she’s okay with that because I want to see them but I don’t want her to be pissed that you shared them with me.
Brie, apparently still not finished: And if they’re half as awesome as I imagine they will be, since I know Mia’s talents, then I’ll probably need to get some done, too. I’d imagine Mia is probably about to get a whole lot busier. Hope she’s ready for this.
Brie, one more time: Actually, now you’ve given me an idea. I might have to call Mia, myself, to see if she’d be game… I think we should do a Storm WAGs charity calendar or something. We’re hot. We could raise money for the Light the Lamp Foundation…
Me: I should really go now or something.
Brie: Wait. How’s your grandmother doing?
Me: Not good. Really bad.
Brie: Really, really bad?
Me: Dying. They said there’s not really any hope. Just trying to keep her as comfortable as they can, now.
Brie: I’m so sorry. Let us know if we can do anything to help.
Me: Thanks. So what’s Mia’s number?
While I appreciated the thought, there wasn’t anything anyone could do. Pretty sure Brie knew that, too, but offering to help was what people tended to do at times like this. She sent me Mia’s number a moment later with another note about how she’d be contacting her soon about the calendar idea.
If Brie was going to call Mia, too, I supposed that I’d have to at least give her a shout to see what she had to say. With any luck, she’d be too busy and have to decline.
I had to admit, though, the idea of a photo shoot was intriguing. Especially if it could potentially have the sort of effect on Bea that Brie seemed to think it could.
Next thing I knew I was calling Mia Quincey for the first time ever and hoping that it wouldn’t lead to Bea walking out of my life for good.
WHEN I RETURNED to Lil’s room, I found it jam-packed with people, and none of them appeared to be employees of the hospital.
Blake was seated in his customary chair next to her bed, close enough that he could hold her hand. But a gorgeous blonde woman was seated across from him, and a man with an athletic build was standing near the window, a nurse was changing out Lil’s IV bag, and there were two kids—a bit younger than most of my students—on the floor playing a game on an iPad.
Everyone but the nurse looked up at me when I entered the room, making me uncomfortable. Blake’s nervous grin helped, though.
But then I had to wonder why he was nervous. I was the intruder…
“You must be Bea,” the blonde woman said, getting to her feet and crossing over to me with a warm smile and a hand outstretched to shake mine. She had a camera in her other hand—not just a cheap digital one that anyone could buy at Target, either, but a professional camera with detachable lenses and the whole shebang.
“Hi,” I said warily.
Blake got up and came over to my side. “This is Mia Quincey and her husband and kids. Mitch used to be one of my teammates.”
Nodding but still confused, I asked, “Are you here to take pictures of Lil?”
Maybe Blake wanted some pictures of the two of them together. Something he could keep long after she was gone? I honestly wasn’t sure, but that was the only thing that made sense.
“She’s taking pictures of you, smarty pants,” Lil said from her bed.
“Me? No.” I was already shaking my head and trying to back out of the room, but Blake reached for my hand as if anticipating my reaction.
“Let’s go out in the hall and talk for a minute,” he said, and he nudged me hard enough that I stumbled and followed, with Mia not far behind us.
“What’s this all about?” I demanded in a whisper, because the halls were more crowded than usual. It seemed like there was something big going on and we were probably in the way. I moved closer to the walls so we wouldn’t obstruct the path, folded my arms in front of me, and glared at Blake so he’d know I wasn’t amused.
“It’s about— I just—”
“He thought you might want to do a photo shoot,” Mia said when he couldn’t get the words out right. “With me. I do a lot of portraits these days.”
“Why would I want to do that?”
I hated having my picture taken. Always had. I looked bigger on film than I did in person, and I always saw flaws that probably weren’t even there. It was just part of being me, this aversion to having my photo taken. I dreaded school picture day every year and did my best to blend into the background of the class photos, allowing my students to shine up front.
“Because maybe it’ll help you see yourself the way I see you,” Blake said. And darn it if he didn’t sound completely sincere and adorable when he said it. “I just thought… If you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to.”
But he was wrong about that. Maybe no one would force me to have my picture taken, but it would eat away at me for a very long time if I didn’t at least hear her out.
“What kind of photo shoot?” I asked warily.
“The kind that’ll help you feel confident in your own skin,” Mia replied, a distinct arch in her brow that made her meaning very clear.
“Oh, no. No, I can’t—”
“I’ll do it with you if you want,” Blake cut in. “You and me. Sexy lingerie. Mood lighting…”
“But you look amazing. And you have no problem letting people see you with your clothes off. That’s different.”
He scrunched his forehead in thought. “How do you know I don’t care if people see me?”
“I’ve heard about naked yoga in the locker room.”
Mia appeared to be having difficulty keeping a straight face.
“Oh. Yeah,” Blake said, and he had a grin that nearly knocked my feet out from under me. “I guess that’s kind of a giveaway. Who told you, though?”
“Dani. Apparently all the guys were complaining about you.”
“All of them? Colesy was into me…”
“From what I understand, it was all of them. But Dani has been known to exaggerate on occasion.”
“I offered to let Anne film me for Eye of the Storm, but she said it’s a family-friendly program and she’d have to blur me out. It’d be a lot to blur…”
He winked.
I blushed.
Mia’s eyes were traveling between the two of us through this entire exchange, and she had the biggest smile brightening her eyes. “You two are hilarious together. I really want to do this.”
I started to argue once again, but Blake spoke before I could get a word out.
“We’re doing it. I want you to do it for me, even if you won’t do it for yourself.”
“For you?”
“I’ll be there, too.”
“But we’ve already established that you don’t care if people see you.”
“No one has to see you but me. And Mia, I guess, since she’s the one shooting the pictures.”
Mia nodded. “And I have a makeup artist who’ll help, but she’s awesome and discreet. She can do your hair, help me with styling you… She handles my lights.”
“No one else will ever see these pictures? Because I could lose my job over something like this.” Not to mention the way my family would react if they ever found out. That couldn’t happen.
“They’ll just be for us. For you and me,” Blake insisted.
“I don’t know…”
He turned a puppy-dog expression on me, and I melted.
With a heavy sigh, I closed my eyes and said, “What do I have to do?”