Behind the Net: a grumpy sunshine hockey romance

TWO DAYS after Pippa rearranged my entire state of consciousness, I approach the lunch spot where I’m meeting Erin.

“Mr. Streicher,” the doorman says, opening the door, and I give him a nod hello.

To my total fucking shock, Erin was actually willing to talk to me. Thankfully, she’s in town, and her show is on hiatus. The restaurant where I booked a table is known for being discreet and private, so we won’t be bothered, even if we are recognized. The last thing I need is photos of us surfacing and rumors circulating. What Pippa and I have is still forming, and I don’t want to cause problems early on.

Pippa. My chest eases the second I think of her.

My pretty songbird. My strong, beautiful, brave Pippa, who sings on stage when she’s terrified and gets back on the ice.

Now that I have her, losing her isn’t an option. I won’t fuck this up.

The hostess leads me to the table, and Erin’s already sitting there, texting. Her face has filled out, her hair is shorter, and her skin glows. My heart squeezes. I don’t love Erin, but it’s nice to see an old friend, even if I did hurt her.

And then the guilt hits again.

“Erin.”

Her head whips up, and when she sees me, a big smile stretches across her face. She stands, and my gaze drops to her belly.

She’s pregnant.

“Hey, you.” She reaches for me, and I hug her. She still smells the same, like fruity shampoo.

We pull apart and take our seats, and I clear my throat as nerves rise.

“You find the place okay?” I ask.

She waves a hand with an easy smile. “Oh, yeah, I’ve been here with my agent.”

A server takes our drink orders, and when he leaves, my pulse picks up. I’m just going to get right into it and not waste Erin’s time. I take a deep breath, and across the table, it seems like she’s doing the same.

“I’m sorry—” I start.

“I want to thank you—” she says at the same time.

We stare at each other with equally confused expressions.

She gestures at me. “You first.”

“Okay.” Another deep breath. Every ounce of guilt and regret tightens into a knot in my stomach. “I want to apologize for what happened between us. I know it was a long time ago and we were young, but…” I fold my arms over my chest, thinking about how I told myself no for so long. “These things can have a lasting effect.” I lift my gaze to hers. “I wasn’t clear with you about what I could handle in a relationship, and that’s my fault.”

She wrinkles her nose in confusion. “Huh?”

“The way I reacted when you thought you might be—” My gaze drops to her stomach. The internet said she was married, and there are a set of rings on her left hand. I bet her husband didn’t stare at her in horror when she told him she was pregnant. “I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I shouldn’t have led you on about what we were. I ruined everything for you. Erin, I saw what they said about you.” My heart twists with pain. “You were going to be a supermodel until I broke your heart.”

She stares back at me, frozen, and there’s a weird prickle in my brain.

My eyes dart to hers, suddenly unsure. “Right?”

Across the table, Erin bursts out laughing.

I blink, confused, as she shakes with bright, surprised laughter.

“Jamie.” She shakes her head, eyes glittering. “You didn’t ruin anything.”

I frown as I flick through my memories. Her excitement at the potential pregnancy, her devastation at my reaction. Her pulling out of her upcoming fashion shows, dropping off the face of the earth for years. Her IMDb profile with a list of low-budget productions.

“First,” she starts, “modeling made me miserable. You read that I was going to be a supermodel, but all I read about was how I was too heavy, too skinny, too ugly, too tall, too short.” She swallows, and I see the pain in her eyes as she shakes her head. “I was never enough.” The corner of her mouth turns up in a humorless smile. “When I realized how late I was for my period, my first thought was now I get to leave modeling. That’s fucked up, right? That’s not a great reason to have a kid.”

A memory comes back to me of Erin skipping dinner because she was meeting with a designer the next day.

Her hand rests on her bump, and she shoots me a funny smile. “I already love this kid more than life itself, but at nineteen, being pregnant and having a kid would have been tough.”

My mind is reeling. “You disappeared.”

She shrugs. “I had to get away. I was a teenager with this insane life and more money than I knew what to do with. I didn’t even like most of my friends, I was hungry all the time, and I hated my life. So I bought a beach house in a small town and did yoga for a few years. I didn’t have the internet or cable, so I read, painted, and hung out with the retired women on my street.” She smiles again, and this time, it feels real. “When I was ready to go back to real life, I did, but it was on my terms.”

There’s a long pause where I take all this information in. I picture her life in the beach house, and my heart squeezes for her. She was miserable, and I didn’t see it.

“Look,” she continues, adjusting the position of her water glass. “You’re not the first person to feel bad for me because I’m on a crappy cable show.” Her expression turns wry. “I like the show, though. Josh and I love living in Vancouver, and the hours are really good. I’m home for dinner every night and I have weekends off. The cast and crew are cool, and they’ve been super accommodating with my pregnancy.”

When I swallow, my throat is tight. “I’m sorry I didn’t see how unhappy you were.”

She offers me a sad smile. “You had your own stuff going on that year. And besides, if you saw it, you’d have tried to fix it, and the only person who could fix it was me.”

Her words sink in, and I nod. She’s right, I would have tried to fix her situation without any idea of how.

“How’s your mom?” she asks.

“Better.” It’s been a few weeks now, and my mom avoids talking about therapy, but that’s fine. I’m giving her space. She’ll give me details when she’s ready.

“Good.” Erin smiles at me. “I’m glad.”

We sit there a long moment in silence, and when I go back to that old guilt over what I did, I find nothing.

A weight lifts.

I didn’t break Erin. I didn’t crush her. The woman across the table from me is a stronger, happier version of the girl I thought I hurt.

Erin is more resilient than I realized. She struggled, and she came out on top. Over the past few months, Pippa has conquered her fears again and again. I imagine her on New Year’s Eve, singing on stage. The moment I realized I was in love with her. A bright, warm sensation expands in my chest.

“Wow,” Erin says, blinking at me in mock-surprise. “A rare smile from the Jamie Streicher? Must be my lucky day.”

I snort and smile wider. “Very funny.”

“Enough about the past.” She studies me. “What’s new with you?”

“I met someone.”

I say the words without thinking. Pippa is the biggest, brightest part of my life, and I’m excited about us. Telling Erin feels right.

Her eyes turn soft and she smiles. “Is this the girl I saw on the sports news?”

A laugh scrapes out of me. After my last game, the sports networks showed clips of me smiling at Pippa behind the glass.

Streicher shut out after a Streich-ing smile! they said.

It was the first time they’d seen me smile in public, the sports anchors joked.

“Yeah.” I nod at Erin, and a smile twitches on my mouth. “That’s her.”

She just studies me with that kind, affectionate smile, and I know she’s happy for me. “Tell me everything about her.”

We spend the rest of lunch in a flurry of conversation. I show Erin the video from New Year’s Eve, tell her about the guitar I bought Pippa, the trip out to Silver Falls, and show her every photo of Pippa and Daisy on my phone. She shows me photos from her wedding in Bali last year. When I tell her about the upcoming charity gala and how I’m going to take Pippa dress shopping, she pulls out her phone and sends me a list of recommendations.

“That’s where I go for dresses,” Erin tells me about one place close to the apartment. “If you call the owner, you can arrange to have the store to yourselves.” Her eyes twinkle. “Really make her feel special, you know?”

“Perfect.” Something sparks in my chest at the thought of the gala. There’s no way Pippa and I can walk into that place without people knowing we’re together, and I’m strangely excited about that.

After lunch is over and I give Erin a hug goodbye, I walk home through the streets of Vancouver in a lighter mood than before.

This thing with Pippa is going to last. I can feel it.