Christmas Kiss is on Her List Page 8

  “Go on then,” Maimeó said and shooed me out of the pew.

  I didn’t actually rejoice, but I had a lighter heart when I made the quick drive home and took a shower before I curled up in bed. My cat Pieni, joined me, draping herself across my hip. The tiny little calico had come with my house and she was the most loving cat I ever met. I dropped off to the rumbling purr of the little thing, in the warm nest of our bed.

  I woke to Branna whistling quietly through her teeth, which she did when composing. The tune wasn’t anything I recognized. I heard Branna’s light footfalls and then she settled on the edge of the bed.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said running the back of her hand down my cheek.

  “You didn’t,” I said tipping back my head to kiss her hand, “I’m still sleeping.”

  “Push over,” she said wriggling into our bed, “I missed you while you were gone.”

  “I missed you too,” I said, gathering her against me.

  “I think you have a fever,” she said kissing my chest.

  “I’m fine; it’s just stress and allergies.”

  “If you say so,” she said in the tone of voice that she used when she absolutely positively did not believe me.

  “I say so.”

  The two of us rested twined around each other long enough for me to doze off again before she sighed and said, “You should get ready to go to work.”

  “I think I’ll call in sick today,” I told her and then kissed the tip of her nose.

  “This is the last game before Christmas and we have that party after the game.”

  “So? I don’t need a party, I just need you.”

  “Such a charmer,” she snorted. It had taken me a year before I realized that when she said ‘charmer’ it wasn’t a compliment. I didn’t have a comeback for that so I changed the subject.

  “Your Maimeó is worried about you using your magic to influence people.”

  She pushed away from me and sat up. “What did she say?”

  “She says it leaves a mark on your soul,” I said, reaching out and took her hand in mine, “and I think she might be right.”

  “I’ve never sung any other way.” She went quiet and still for a second before continuing on. “I don’t know if I can sing any other way.”

  “You can try,” I said to her. “I don’t want to lose you. And this is my fault; I introduced you to magic.”

  “No,” she said shaking her head, “you just told me that magic existed. And it isn’t like I’m going out there and becoming some sort of rock star.”

  I dropped her hand and put my head in her lap. “I worry.”

  “That is why the team loves you,” she said, stroking my hair. “You are too protective for your own good. Worrying makes you sick, though.”

  “No it doesn’t,” I disagreed without any conviction in my voice. A sneeze destroyed any validity of that statement.

  “Your nose,” Branna said reaching over and grabbing a tissue out of the box next to my alarm clock.

  I wiped my nose and saw blood on the tissue. I sighed. “Crap.”

  “You want me to give you a bit of a massage?”

  “You spoil me,” I said by way of agreement. I didn’t know where she came across the idea of massaging my sinus problems away, but early on she started massaging my face when I felt sick. It didn’t take the sinus pain or congestion away, but under her hands the sickness seemed to lift a bit. The benefit of her work could last for hours and it would definitely make the game easier for me.

  “Your alarm is going off in ten minutes,” she said as she started working on my forehead. Her fingers were cool as they moved across my face. Her hands rolled my skin and gently stretched the muscles of my face. Tension that I didn’t know I carried, slipped away with Branna’s touch. She worked her way across my face, then over my scalp and down my neck before she stopped and patted my shoulder with one hand. I heard her flip the switch on my alarm. “Use the inhaler before the game.”

  “Why?” I asked. My chest felt fine. My last asthma attack happened in September when I’d stood in the dusty ruins of our arena. I wasn’t the only one either. Before that, my last attack had been over two years ago.

  “Something just doesn’t feel right,” she said as I reluctantly got up.

  “For you,” I said leaning in to kiss her.

  She stopped me a few inches from her and said, “If you don’t, I will.”

  “I know you will kulta.” She smiled at the endearment. She knew it meant ‘gold’ but also meant ‘darling.’ It stopped bothering her at some point; every language had its own oddities.

  “I love you, Arttu,” she said, her thick Boston accent mangling my name. We laughed for a few moments before she pushed me playfully and then got up.

  It was time to get up and go to work.

  The team tried to keep our routine the same, even though we were squatting in a community arena until the team owners and the league decided what to do with us. The team built a private lounge area in what used to be a classroom. Basically, we brought in cast-off furniture and an old television. It wasn’t what we were used to, but for once our lounge area felt like home. The locker room closest to the ice had been refitted with stalls and benches. We did the same for the rooms set aside for the visiting team. Less like the luxury of the Pan-Am League and much more like a kid’s clubhouse. I’d heard from friends that other teams privately referred to it as “the slum.”

  The Nor’Easters were in limbo while the owners decided what came next. Every time I turned on the sports news I would hear someone saying an offer had been made on us, and we’d move to New Mexico or South Dakota or Washington State. Or, that we would be disbanded and be absorbed into other teams. Fear and worry were our normal emotions pre-game. I hoped that soon the issues would soon be settled and we would know our fate. I didn’t want to uproot Branna if the team moved, but I didn’t want to leave her behind either.

  I got to the rink early. I always did. My best friend Vále, a fellow Finn with a Swedish first name, was scheduled to be in goal and I knew he would be keyed up. He always sat with me when we flew, something that terrified me, and I had taken to spending time with him before the games. We had formed a Freak Outs Anonymous club, and we were each other’s sponsors.

  Vále beat me to the rink and I found him pacing around in the full body long underwear that we all wore under our pads and uniform. When I opened the door, his eyes flicked my way but he didn’t stop moving. I went to my locker and changed while he bounced around the room like a super ball.

  After I changed I pulled off the band I wore on my left ring finger. The black titanium ring held four small diamonds. When I asked Branna to marry me I bought the matching bands. It wasn’t until the next time I played that I found out men in the States didn’t wear rings during an engagement. I decided to keep the ring on. Now for games I kept it on a chain around my neck, along with a gold pendant of a bird my mother had given me. I wasn’t willing to keep either in a locker; they stayed with me at all times.

  Behind me, Vále snorted.

  “What?” I asked. I tucked my chain and ring under my shirt.

  “Don’t trust that thing to your locker?” Vále asked.

  “No. Never,” I said, flopping down on the couch. A small dust cloud puffed up around me and I gave a small dry cough.

  Vále’s snapped around to look at me. “Did you bring your inhaler?”

  “You sound like my Anna,” I said.

  “And you sound like a steam engine when you breathe like that.”

  I should explain that Vále is a werewolf. Born a werewolf, his parents named him after the son of the god Loki, who had been turned into a wolf and ate his brother. If I had an asthma attack at home, he could probably hear it all the way at his house nine miles away.

  Like most wolves he was f
iercely protective of the people he saw as family. My Anna and I were family in his eyes. And like most Finns, he was fiercely private, so we were having this conversation in Finnish.

  “In there,” I pointed at my locker.

  “You know you are in rough shape, right?”

  “I’m tired,” I said, “and my allergies suck this year, but I am not in rough shape.”

  “If you say so,” he said, sounding not so convinced.

  “I got the tickets to that concert you wanted to see,” I said, changing the subject and switching to English.

  I know better than to argue with the people in my life so I used the rescue inhaler ten minutes before game time and I even went the extra step of giving it to one of the trainers so that I could have the damn thing at a moment’s notice. I knew that doing that would make Vále more relaxed in goal and I made a point of doing it while he could see me.

  The trainer took the small thing and said, “I see you’re having a spiffy Christmas this year.”

  “Aren’t we all?” I asked with a sigh.

  “Point there, Finn,” the man said before turning away.

  I’m not a huge fan of being called “Finn” but living and working in and around Boston meant that I couldn’t be called by my first name, the ‘R’ sound didn’t fit with the local accent, so Finn was just easier.

  We were playing a young team with a lot to prove. They played a fierce hard checking game and I was having a wonderful time until I got elbowed while trying to check another player. We came together hard and both of us went off the ice gasping for air. I don’t care how much padding you have on, if you get hit the right way, it suddenly becomes impossible to breathe.

  I got sent back down the tunnel to the dressing room and I leaned against the wall, out of the sight of cameras for a long moment gasping, trying to fill lungs that were empty and stuck closed.

  “Drink this.” A cup the size of a large shot glass appeared in front of me and I took it and drank. It burned. The heat spread through me as fast as the taste of liquorish and wormwood.

  “Absinthe?” I gasped, but I could feel that my lungs were starting to work again.

  “No,” the trainer told me. “Well yes, but only partly. It’s a family recipe. And I’m sorry, but you probably shouldn’t drink at the party tonight.”

  “I wasn’t planning on drinking,” I said when my breathing became normal again. “Can I go back now?”

  “If you think you are ready. But there will be a glass of this at every intermission.”

  The rest of the game went with no more hang-ups; the young team proved itself and took us all the way to a shootout. It is next to impossible to beat Vále one on one. One thing about him being a werewolf is that he is very, very fast. If he can see you, he can stop you. I scored against the other goalie, even with my swimming from three shots of whatever the trainer gave me to drink. I didn’t participate in the locker room interviews after the game. I just showered and changed and then sat on the dusty couch waiting for everyone else. After the game, I could let myself feel bad. I wanted to curl up and take a nap.

  “Hey, hon,” Branna said, slipping an arm around me, “Caleb said he gave you some heavy-duty cough medicine and that I need to watch you tonight.”

  “I don’t know what he gave me, but I am really tired and want to go home.” My voice was as dusty as the couch and talking hurt. I had yelled to much one the ice, and I felt as though I was croaking. I pulled her onto my lap and held her as though she was a life preserver and I was drowning in the cold Atlantic.

  “We have to make an appearance, you know that,” she said, her hand stroking the back of my neck, “but after I’ll take you home and you can just sleep for the next few days.”

  “Out, out, you two,” Murphy said when he came in. “Some of us still need to change and we don’t need girls in here while we do it.”

  Branna looked around and found Vále. “You want us to take Kaija?”

  “Yes,” he replied, “I’ll see you over there.”

  I wanted to put the passenger’s side seat all the way back and try to nap for a few moments while we drove, but having a passenger made that next to imposable. I ended up resting my head on the cool glass of the window while the two ladies talked. I didn’t want to get out of the car when we got to the party. Branna watched me, her eyebrows drawn together in worry.

  “An hour tops,” she said as she wrapped an arm around me.

  We were in a private hall above a popular restaurant. We were scheduled to have a meal and there would be drinking and music. I figured the music would be loud enough to keep me awake and I wouldn’t be heard over it. I started over to the bar but Branna grabbed my hand, turning me.

  “You aren’t supposed to drink,” she said. Her face took on a pinched, worried look. She reached up and took my face in her hands. They were cool against my skin. I wanted her to hug me and make everything better the way she had for all of those strangers earlier in the day.

  “I was going to get coffee or juice. I think maybe you are right and I’m sick.” It took a lot for me to admit that, but if I had a cold, a day or so of sleep and cold medicine would knock it out.

  “I could get it for you,” she said, “and you could sit and rest.”

  “I’m fine, it’s just a cold.”

  “And stress and allergies.”

  “Yes,” I said dipping my head down for a kiss. My girl almost never got sick, so I wasn’t worried about giving her whatever I had.

  “We’ll get you home soon,” she drew my head down again for another kiss. When she let me go she turned away from me and walked toward Kaija. I went to the bar and leaned against it until the bartender noticed me.

  “I have something they brought in special for you,” the man said pulling out a bottle of koskenkorva vodka. Not something I saw every day. Something from home. I nodded. A small drink wouldn’t hurt me. He gave me a broad smile and asked, “So what flavor?”

  “Surprise me,” I said.

  “Cloudberry then,” the bartender said to me.

  “And can I have a tea?”

  “You take this and I’ll bring you the tea when it is ready.”

  I walked over to where Kaija and Branna were sitting at a supper table and sat next to Branna. She looked at the glass in my hand.

  “You know you aren’t supposed to drink tonight,” Branna said.

  Kaija’s nostrils flared and then she lied, “It’s just white wine.”

  “He isn’t supposed to be drinking,” Branna snapped at her friend.

  “Anna,” I sighed, “just this one. It is something from home and they are bringing me tea too.”

  I drank slowly enjoying the taste and the feel of the vodka, not caring how it would interact with the medication I had already taken. The other players came in one at a time or in groups, sometimes with wives or girlfriends in tow. Most came and asked how I was feeling before wandering off. The tea came and I drank it. We ate the supper laid out buffet-style for us. I felt fuzzier and fuzzier as I ate. Whenever my glass emptied someone refilled it.

  The music came up and some of the couples started dancing. I wanted to dance with Branna so much but I was way too tired to get up. I only ever wanted to dance when too drunk to actually dance. Vále looked over at me and smiled.

  “There is a couch just outside the bathroom,” my friend said. “Sleep some of it off before you go home.”

  “We were going to go home,” Branna said.

  “You want to dance,” I said waving a hand at the dance floor. “I’ll crash on the couch for a while and you can go dance.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked as I got up.

  “Positive,” I told her and made my way to the couch Vále pointed out.

  “Get up,” Kaija said, shaking me urgently. I swatted at her hand and tried to burrow deeper into the
couch. Then I heard the sounds of disruption from the main room.

  “What is going on?” I asked her in a low whisper.

  “Something is here for your Anna,” she told me and turned away. She moved with her chin was down and her head was tipped to the side, the way she moved before she changed into her wolf form. Every move she made, quick and precise.

  Before I even got off of the couch, a long lonely howl filled the air. It was Vále. I had heard him howl a few times when I lived with him. I could never figure out what made him so sad, but his howls always made me want to cry. I rushed into the room and looked around, but my Branna was gone. Vále stood in his wolf form scratching at the door. Kaija went to his side, and slipped her arms around the big wolf, trying to calm him.

  “Where is everyone?” I asked.

  “Gone,” said Gabby, Billy’s girlfriend and one of the front office people. “It was the weirdest thing. All at once they got up and left.”

  A few of the team were standing around. Steve, a rookie forward stood with his wife and they both held thin swords. Billy, a defenseman, held his arm against his chest while his girlfriend stood between him and the door. Our captain, Shawn Murphy sat on the floor holding his nose, trying to stop it from bleeding. His new girlfriend looked at me and then her lips pulled back from extremely sharp teeth. I knew all sorts of odd and magical beings played for the Nor’easters, but Nimah’s teeth gave me pause.

  “What are you?” I asked her.

  “Selkie,” Murphy said his voice muffled by his broken nose.

  “A what?” I asked.

  “She is a seal, like Vále is a wolf,” Murphy said getting up off the floor. “Look you have bigger problems, but here is a rundown. Vále is a wolf, Nimah is a Selkie, Steve is Jack Frost, Rose seems to be springtime in a chick’s body, Gabby is—well I don’t know what she and Billy are.”

  “I’m in recovery,” Billy grunted. “Nothing more exotic than that.”

  Murphy ignored Billy’s interjection> “But something came and took your girl.”

  “Joulupukki,” Steve’s wife Rose said.

  “Santa Claus?” I asked stupidly, “Santa Clause kidnapped my girlfriend?”