Cade: Fire And Ice: A Second Chance Hockey Romance

by Hart, Alana

  One night, when Christopher was nine months old and asleep in his uncle David's arms while we all watched some TV talent show, Baby Ben asked me if Cade was going to come and visit Christopher. I was unprepared for his question, despite it having been on my mind almost every second since I had first discovered I was pregnant.

  "I - uh, I'm not sure, David."

  "Does he know about Christopher?"

  Jacob jumped in. "David, that's Ellie's business."

  "No, it's OK. You guys can ask me about this, I don't mind. The truth is I don't know if Cade will come to see Christopher. He doesn't know about him yet."

  "Why?"

  "Because I'm not sure he would happy about it. He lives in another city now, on the other side of the country and he has a job there. He might not want the distraction of being a father."

  I wasn't lying. There was every chance that Cade wouldn't want the distraction of being a father, especially given who the baby's mother was. He'd changed. He was no longer the tough but fundamentally sweet boy I'd known when we were eighteen year old kids. Although there was no question that Cade Parker would always have dominion over a piece of my heart, it wasn't my nature to be foolish about who people were - and what their capacity to change was.

  It all sounded rather lofty when I told myself those things. There were other factors, too. The fact that Cade was famous was one. There would be media attention - and probably not the positive kind - if anyone found out he had a secret baby with a high school girlfriend who lived in a trailer and had a drunk for a mother.

  Then there was his parents. That meeting with his mother at the cafe, when she had bought me a cupcake and used my own pathetic need for a mother figure to try and keep me away from her son, was still burned into my memory. In the intervening years I'd come to recognize that little episode for the manipulation it was. Cade's mother had been horrified at the thought of trailer-trash Ellie Hesketh with her golden-boy son. She knew what my home life was like - everyone in North Falls did. If she got wind of a grandson, one often left in the care of his fourteen year old uncle while his mother worked two jobs, I had no reason to believe she wouldn't try everything she could to paint me as a bad mother, maybe even to try and take Christopher away from me. Just the thought of it made my blood run cold, and I knew I didn't have enough money to even talk to a lawyer, let alone hire one to fend off Cade's pushy, rich parents if they wanted to cause trouble.

  I used to go over these reasons one by one in my mind, trying to justify not telling Cade about his son. They were good reasons, and I'm nothing if not practical, but they weren't the only ones. After Christopher was born I started going online again, reading about Cade, looking at the latest photos and gossip pieces and brief interviews. He was usually pictured in expensive, well-fitted suits walking into arenas or out of clubs with a cocky look on his face like he owned the world.

  Part of me, a small part, always assumed that Cade and I would end up together. After his brief visit, I'd been forced to face the fact that that probably wasn't going to happen. He lived in a different world. A shinier, more expensive world than North Falls. What hope did I have against the bright lights of Los Angeles and the smooth-skinned charms of its female inhabitants? What if I did tell Cade about Christopher and he rejected me - and him? I knew the pain of growing up with a parent who basically had no interest in me and it filled me with rage and pain to think of my baby ever experiencing anything like that. Wasn't it better for him to grow up loved? In a trailer, yes. Never having quite enough money for the latest toys or gadgets, yes. But loved. Because Christopher was loved - fully and completely by me and his doting uncles. I watched him grow from a placid, content baby into a happy, outgoing toddler and then a little boy. I saw the way he interacted with other people, so different from the way I or my brothers had when we were small. I didn't want my son to grow up convinced he was lesser-than or expecting to be treated dismissively.

  When Christopher was five years old and settling happily into kindergarten, it started to dawn on me that it was probably going to be soon that he started to ask questions about fathers. Specifically, why most of his classmates had them and why he didn't. It was so easy to put off hard questions when he was a baby or a toddler who spent all of his time with me and his uncles. What was I going to say when he started asking where his daddy was, or if he even had one?

  The anger I'd felt towards Cade, at how he'd just treated me the last time we saw each other, was gone. Mostly. I'd even come to understand why he'd behaved the way he had, even though it didn't excuse it. I think Cade probably loved me at some point in the past. Rich and famous he might have been, but he was still young and male and he'd reacted very badly to the fact that I had been with another man. But what was underneath that reaction? Would he have been so angry if I he didn't care about me?

  I scolded myself for thinking that way. Allowing myself to feel vulnerable when it came to Cade Parker had never turned out well for me. I crept into Christopher's room to check on him. He was fast asleep on his back, one hand curled up beside his head on the pillow. He looked so much like Cade. He was even starting to develop some of Cade's mannerisms and quirks of body language. Every now and again I would find myself doing a double-take when he reached for a toy a certain way or cocked his head at me when I talked to him in exactly the same way Cade used to do. I looked down at his sleeping face and blinked back the tears that welled up in my eyes. No matter what, I was going to do what was best for my son. No matter what.

  Chapter 18: Cade

  Everyone always said I was talented. My parents have grainy VHS footage of me playing hockey at nine years old. It's been used in various highlight reels for awards shows and sport broadcasts before, mostly because of what the announcer says as the younger me skates effortlessly around three opposing players and slams the puck into the back of the net.

  "This is raw talent, folks. This young man has the potential to be the golden player of his generation."

  That footage used to be a boost. Proof that I was destined for greatness from a young age. As I threw myself into the vortex of Los Angeles' dark side, it became nothing more than a haunting reminder of what probably wasn't to be. I had the one Art Ross trophy, yeah. But I didn't have a Stanley Cup and the sportswriters and commentators had started to talk about me in frustrated tones, wondering openly why I hadn't blossomed into the league-dominating player it had always seemed I was meant to be.

  At twenty-eight and on the eve of the car accident that would change the course of my life, I was interviewed by a well-known hockey blogger. The team's PR person had set it up, billing it as my first step back from a descent into what they diplomatically deemed my 'unhealthy lifestyle.' When I arrived at the studio, Jessica called me as I was walking through the front doors.

  "Are you ready for this?"

  "Not really," I replied.

  "Come on Cade, this is going to be good for you. You'll be back to your old self in no time."

  I hoped Jessica's encouraging words were true, but in spite of my bullish attitude with Kings' staff, my manager, my friends and my parents, I was deeply worried. Was I going to be able to stick to the clean-living regimen that the specially-hired health team had set out for me? No partying, no more late nights, a clean diet and hours in the gym and the practice rink? It was so long since I'd lived like that. I didn't even know who I was anymore without the destructive crutches I'd come to rely on, or if I'd ever be able to recapture the part of myself that I seemed to have lost.

  In the studio after the introductions, the host got right to it.

  "Cade Parker, we're so glad to have you here. Tell me a little bit about the past few years of your career. You were supposed to be a superstar. You were almost there. What happened?"

  I did my best to maintain eye contact and, at first, to keep my answers as broad as possible. The King's media coach had gone over it with me beforehand, warning me not to get into any gruesome details.

  "Well, I think everyon
e knows what happened. I got sucked into an unhealthy way of living, I lost focus."

  "Why do you think that was? What happened?"

  I was stumped. Was I supposed to tell the truth? As I sat there searching for something to say, it occurred to me that it didn't matter anymore. Everyone knew about my troubles. What harm could it do to give the real explanation? I was either going to make a comeback on the ice or I wasn't and nothing I could say to a sports blogger was going to change that.

  "Well," I started, slowly, still unsure as to what exactly was going to come out of my own mouth, "I ruined a close relationship. I hurt someone I cared about very deeply."

  "Are you talking about Jessica Ray? You two broke up last year, it seems that your career troubles have been going on a lot longer than that.

  "No, actually, I'm not talking about Jessica."

  I knew I had to be very careful with my words so as not to cause any embarrassment to Jess. The fact that our relationship had been fake had never come out in public.

  "I'm talking about someone I used to know back in North Falls, when I played for the Ice Kings. Her name was Ellie."

  Just saying her name out loud like that, knowing it was being recorded, gave me a slightly sick, slightly exhilarated feeling. I had no idea how anything was going to turn out, or whether talking about her was a good idea or not.

  "Ellie? Is this an old girlfriend you're talking about?"

  "Yeah, from high school."

  "So what you're saying is that you've been pining over this girl for, what, ten years? That she's the reason your career has been in a nosedive?"

  "No," I said, firmly and quickly, not willing to allow the interviewer to twist my words. "No, that's not it at all. It wasn't her fault, it was mine. I couldn't let go. I treated her badly and when I realized what I'd lost, I tried to erase it all with alcohol and...other things."

  The interviewer, Phil Jackson, a man known for his candid, smart takes on hockey and hockey players, raised one eyebrow at me skeptically.

  "Really? So, you expect us to buy that everything - your loss of form, your appearance in countless tabloids and your personal demons all come down to this one high school relationship?"

  I knew he was trying to throw me off. It wasn't going to work.

  "Is that so unbelievable?" I asked. "I mean, why does anyone drink too much or get addicted to drugs or spend all their money on stupid shit they don't need? It's all about hiding from your own pain. Hiding from shame. That's exactly what I was doing. I may be in the public eye, but I'm also a human being. I'm surprised you're surprised, actually."

  Phil leaned back in his seat and thought about it for a few seconds before continuing.

  "Alright. So moving past that, what are your plans for the future? Do you think you can make a comeback?"

  I hesitated for a split second, wary about promising things I wasn't going to be able to deliver but determined to put the past behind me.

  "Honestly, Phil? I don't know. I don't have a crystal ball. But one thing I know for sure is that I can play hockey. It's the only thing I've ever been able to do, really. Do I think I can make a comeback? I don't see why not, I'm still pretty young."

  The interview continued for another twenty minutes or so but the rest of it was mostly about the specifics of my training and nutrition regimen. Just before it ended, Phil asked me one more question.

  "So, Cade, I think we're just about to wrap things up here. Is there anything else you'd like to add?"

  Fuck it, I probably wasn't going to get a second chance. Maybe Ellie would, somehow, hear what I had to say. Even if she didn't forgive me, at least she would know the truth.

  "Actually, there is. I just want Ellie to know that I'm truly sorry for how I handled things with her. I want to her to know that and I...I want her to know that I love her."

  As soon as the microphone was switched off, Phil turned to me.

  "Do you know how much shit you're going to take for that?"

  The thing is, I did know. But by that time, I'd already been through the real shit. If my teammates wanted to give me hell, if the media and the sports bloggers wanted to write stories about what a pussy I was, they could have at it. It didn't matter. When I left the studio, there was a lightness in my step that I hadn't felt for years.

  Jessica called me as soon as I was in the car. I could hear the smiling incredulity in her voice.

  "Holy shit, Cade. You did not just do that!"

  "Well, it looks like I did," I answered, laughing and still not entirely able to believe I'd just said those things live on air. "Are you pissed? I didn't want to throw you under the bus or anything."

  "Nah, Cade, forget it. I've got two movies coming up - if anything my publicist will think this paints me sympathetically. Poor Jessica Ray, Cade Parker never really loved her. Do you think Ellie's going to hear what you said?"

  "I don't know. I hope she does."

  "Well what if she does hear it? What are you hoping-"

  I had to cut Jess off. "Let me call you back, Jess, it's my mom."

  I took the call from my mom, knowing she wasn't going to be happy but not aware of just how bad it was going to be.

  "Hey, mom."

  "Cade." Her voice was brittle.

  "Yeah?"

  "What was that?"

  "What was what?"

  "Don't be smart, Cade. That interview. What the fuck was that?"

  I felt my eyes getting big at the word 'fuck' coming out of my mom's mouth. She never cursed.

  "Mom, what 'that' was is the truth. You want me to get myself together, right? You want me to renew my contract and go back to scoring goals and making you and dad look good? Well then I have to tell the truth. And that was the truth. I've loved Ellie Hesketh since high school. I think you knew it, too. That's why you and dad were so goddamned eager to get me away from her."

  "Cade! I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about it. How dare you accuse us of having something to do with this. Your father and I have done everything we could for your career-"

  "Yeah, mom, my career. What about me? You didn't think Ellie was good enough for me."

  "That's because she wasn't - she isn't - good enough for you, Cade. That's what you never seem to have gotten through your skull. Your father and I didn't raise you to fall apart simply because some little white trash slut from high school rejected you."

  I wasn't going to be drawn. Not by my mother's cursing and not by her insults. I felt bulletproof after that interview, untouchable. I replied casually, without anger.

  "Well, mom, apparently you did, because that's exactly what happened. And Ellie isn't the slut, I am. Do you know how many women I've been with?"

  "Don't be disgusting, Caden, that's your business."

  "Exactly. It's my business. I'm not a kid any more, I haven't been one for a long time. You and dad are going to have to back off a little, because I think I'm going to take things from here."

  "You sound like you're drunk. Or high. Are you drunk, Cade?"

  "Mom, seriously, don't bother. Listen, I have to go now. Talk to you soon."

  I hung up to the sound of my mother's angry huffing, before she could say anything else. Then I looked down at my phone to call Jess back. Just before I made the call, the sound of screeching tires filled my ears and suddenly everything went black.

  Chapter 19: Ellie

  I was at work when I found out about Cade's accident. It was a slow day at the salon and I was scrolling through the news on Yahoo when the headline popped up.

  'NHL Player Cade Parker Shatters His Leg In Car Accident, Alcohol Suspected To Be Involved.'

  I looked up quickly to make sure my co-workers weren't watching me as my heartbeat quickened but also half-hoping that when I looked back down again, the headline would prove to have been a figment of my imagination. It didn't. With one trembling finger, I clicked on the link. There were no real details. It had happened the previous night in Los Angeles, after an interview in which a 'source
' said he behaved 'erratically.' He was in the hospital. Alive, stable, and unsure about whether or not his career was over. Alive. Thank God.

  My very first thought was to go to him. No matter what Cade Parker did there was always going to be a part of me that couldn't bear the thought of him alone or in pain. All day I checked and re-checked the news but there were no updates, it wasn't a huge story. When I got back home, there was a strange woman outside my trailer.

  "Ellie? Ellie Hesketh?"

  "Yes...?" I replied, warily. My bills were all paid, everything was up to date. Who the hell was this?

  "I'm Marcia Stevens from Sports Gossip dot com, I'd like to ask you a few questions."

  It didn't dawn on me right away that Marcia Stevens was there because of Cade.

  "Umm..." I said, eager to get inside and see Christopher and my brothers and check my phone to see if the story about Cade had been updated.

  "Are you the Ellie that Cade Parker was talking about in the interview last night?"

  I looked at her sharply when she mentioned Cade.

  "What?"

  "Are you the Ellie that Cade Parker said he loved in his interview last night?"

  I had no idea what Marcia Stevens was talking about, nor did I have any interest in finding out from her.

  "I'm sorry, where did you say you were from, again?"

  "Sports gossip dot com. It's a website, we cover the personal lives of famous sportsmen and women. Last night, just before he got into the accident, Cade Parker said in an interview that he loved someone named 'Ellie' - someone he went to high school with. Is that you?"

  My stomach flipped in my belly. Cade had said he loved me? During an interview? That didn't sound like the behavior of a sober man. I brushed past the reporter.

  "I don't have anything to say about that."

  "Wait! Could you just give me a brief statement? Could we take a photo?"

  "No."

  I opened the front door and then closed and locked it behind me.

  Jacob was right there in front of me. He had a weird look on his face.