Darkroom: A Moo U Hockey Romance

by Kate Willoughby

  “Did she start dragging you into jewelry stores?”

  “That would have been too obvious for Sabina. No. After we’d been exclusive for about a year, we were at this rock-climbing place where this guy proposed to his girlfriend at the top of the wall and everybody there made this big deal about it. Including Sabina. I said, ‘Hell, that was nothing special. I could do better than that.’”

  “I can hear you saying that in my head.”

  “Right?” my dad said. He was always boasting that he could do this better or that better and the annoying thing was, he usually could.

  “So when Sabina heard this, she laughed, patted me on the cheek like I was a little kid, and kept climbing. That’s all it took, son. She didn’t even say anything. That’s how slick she was. Two months later after we were knocked out of the playoffs, I took her to Venice and popped the question on a gondola, which, you gotta admit, was out of this world special.”

  It was hard to picture my dad, in his twenties, proposing to a woman in Italy, especially since the woman wasn’t my mother.

  “Sabina said yes and we set a date for the following summer. Deposits were made, invitations went out. Everything was all set. Then the morning of the wedding, your Aunt Marty pulls me aside. Says she needs to talk to me, that it’s urgent.

  “She was at the bachelorette party the night before and at the time she was three months pregnant with your cousin Garrett, so she wasn’t drinking. Anyway, the rest of the girls at the party got rip-roaring drunk and at one point, Sabina starts bragging about the multi-million-dollar contract I’d just signed and how she was set for life now because I was too stupid to make her sign a prenup.”

  I sucked in a breath. “Jesus.”

  “I confronted Sabina and she denied it, of course, but you know your Aunt Marty. She would never lie about something like that.”

  Aunt Marty was one of the most stalwart, kind women I knew. She wasn’t prone to exaggeration or gossip, so if she said something happened, you knew it actually happened.

  “It took me a long time to get over Sabina. I really thought she loved me, but she only loved my money and the life I was going to give her. So, I’m not paranoid, son. I just don’t want you to get caught by a woman like her.”

  “Indi’s not like that. She doesn’t care that much about money. If you’d spent more time with her, you would have seen that. She likes economizing. She prefers comfort over luxury. We actually talked about what trip we’d take if money was no object, and she said she’d like to go camping in Yosemite.”

  My dad didn’t look convinced. “She could just be pretending to be like that.”

  “She could, but she’s not. You just need to get to know her better.”

  He tapped his thumb on the steering wheel thoughtfully.

  “Until then, give us both the benefit of the doubt. Innocent until proven guilty.”

  More tapping.

  While he mulled it over, I tried not to think about the fact that this entire Pro-Indi campaign might be moot if she was never going to speak to me again. I had to believe that I could make things right between us and I planned to give some serious thought on the flight back about what I could do to convince her that she should give me a second chance. She was a rational person and, I hoped, a forgiving person, but I was going to have to do something incredible in order for that to happen because in the heat of the moment, when she was telling me things I didn’t want to hear, I’d purposely given her an emotional sucker punch that I knew would shut her up.

  Fuck. I could still see the desolate expression on her face. Every time I tried to go to sleep, I saw all her feelings for me dim and go out like a candle starved of oxygen.

  You know those stupid memes on social media where they ask, “If you could go back in time and tell your twelve-year-old self something, what would you tell them?” Hell, I’d settle for going back two fucking weeks so I could tell myself to not ruin the best thing that ever happened to me.

  My dad cleared his throat, bringing me out of my reverie.

  “Okay, so I want you to invite her to Christmas,” he said. “Tell her I’m sorry but that an apology from me will be coming her way the minute she walks in the door. We’ll start over fresh. You can tell her the Sabina story if you think it’ll help. Think she’ll be okay with that?”

  “I hope so. First, I have an apology of my own to give her.”

  “Eh? What’s that? What’d you do, son?”

  I told him what I’d told AJ, that instead of thanking her for her concern over my hearing problem, I’d acted like it was all her fault.

  “I can’t go into detail about what I said to her, but it was mean, Dad. Really mean.”

  My dad reached out and mussed my hair.

  “What the…?”

  He was laughing. “That’s my boy. A chip off the old block.”

  “Dad, seriously? You’re proud that I was a dick to my girlfriend?”

  “Of course, I’m not proud. It sounds like you were a real horse’s ass to her. I’m more…amused than anything. Surprised too, if you want to know the truth. It’s not like you to be cruel.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “So, what do you do when you’ve really messed up with Mom? When you’ve done something that’s so bad, the relationship reboot won’t cut it?”

  He cleared his throat. “If you really want to know…”

  “I do. I’m desperate. I don’t want to lose her, Dad.”

  “Son, I’m afraid I don’t have any other strategy. The reboot is all I got.”

  I sighed heavily.

  “I mean sometimes I end up buying her something, but that’s always a last resort.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think a present’s going to work with Indi.”

  “Does she know you love her?”

  “I told her I did.”

  My dad laughed softly. “There’s your problem, son. You told her.”

  “What, was I supposed to keep it a secret?” I snapped.

  “No. If you want to keep her, you should tell her every day, but even more important than the words are your actions. You told her you loved her. Fine. Now, I think, you need to show her.”

  36

  Indi

  The response to the selfie I’d posted in that PWS Facebook group floored me. I’d been afraid to return to the group for fear of rejection. I shouldn’t have been. When I ventured back onto Facebook on Sunday, I saw the people there had welcomed me with open arms and hundreds of messages of encouragement, admiration, support and congratulations. Michaela sent me a private message.

  Michaela: You were so brave to post your picture. I’m glad what I wrote helped you.

  Indi: It helped me a lot and I’m so grateful. I recently had a bad experience with my boyfriend making fun of my birthmark and I really needed that boost of confidence.

  Michaela: Oh no. If you don’t mind me asking, what happened?

  I poured out my whole story and Michaela reacted much like Ruby had—with anger and shock but where Ruby had a hard time reconciling the cruelty, Michaela and I knew from personal experience, people were capable of that and worse.

  Indi: I’m trying to get over him by referring to him as the ICW—the insecure cock waffle.

  Michaela posted about twenty laughing emojis.

  Michaela: Forget about him. Concentrate on your own journey. Have you thought about taking the next step? Going outside without your makeup?

  Indi: Yes, I have. I’ve dreamed about it but it’s…scary. I remember what it was like when I was younger…the pointing, the staring, the name-calling and everything.

  Michaela: I’m not gonna lie. You’ll still get stared at and people will whisper, but here’s what I try to do now. I try to assume it’s because they’ve never seen a PWS before, because a lot of the time, that’s what it is, ignorance. It’s natural to be curious or confused about something you have no experience with. Like if I saw a person with only one ear, I would wonder what happened. Right?

  In
di: I never thought about it that way, but you’re right.

  Michaela: Okay, so if you’re ready—and it’s okay if you’re not—go out and get some fast food through the drive thru, something like that. Then the next time, go into a store or go for a walk. Tiny steps to build up your strength. Courage is a muscle that has to be used or it atrophies.

  After we said goodbye, I knew exactly how and where I was going to reenter the world as Indi, the Original. I just needed to set it up.

  Around four o’clock that same afternoon, I was sitting in my car for a moment to gather my nerve. In the rearview mirror, I saw my birthmark was looking pretty eggplanty. We’d gotten a couple inches of snow the night before and cold weather always brought out the purple in it. I resisted the urge to wrap my scarf so that the PWS was mostly covered up.

  Not today, I thought. Today was about being fearless, being proud and making a new friend. I’d already walked through the dorm and down to my car without anything bad happening. I could do this last few yards.

  The moment I got out of the car, I heard a high-pitched shriek.

  “INDI, INDI, INDI, INDI!”

  As Denise shouted, “Be careful!” Leah sped down the shoveled walk toward me at high speed. I knelt and laughed as she threw herself in my arms.

  “Hey, pipsqueak! How are you?” I asked.

  “I’m so happy you’re here. And I can see your birthmark!” She clapped her hands in excitement. “Mommy! See? See Indi’s birthmark?”

  “I see it, sweetie. Come inside where it’s warm.”

  After hanging up my coat and scarf, I followed them to the family room which adjoined the kitchen. A Hallmark Christmas movie was playing at a low volume on a TV. Festive garland adorned the windows and the table had a plaid runner on it, along with lightly golden sugar cookies of various shapes, awaiting decoration.

  “What’s that amazing smell?” I asked, putting the grocery bag I had brought on the table.

  “Hot apple cider,” Leah exclaimed. “We put whipped cream and caramel sauce on it so it’s extra sweet.”

  “That sounds delicious. It’s clear I’m going to need to see the dentist after today. Now, I hope I brought the right sprinkles. They looked at me funny when I asked for purple but I got a little container of every purple sprinkle they had.”

  Denise brought us pastry bags of icing and bowls of frosting and after she showed me how to use it, Leah said, “Show her how to do a Leah cookie.”

  “What’s a Leah cookie?” I asked.

  “Leah cookies are cookies that have purple icing in the shape of her birthmark,” Denise explained. “We made them on a lark last year for her preschool class and I posted a picture of them on social media. They got a lot of attention. Everyone loved the story behind them.”

  “It’s a wonderful idea,” I agreed.

  “Someone in the Facebook group suggested I sell them to raise money for the VBF—that's the Vascular Birthmark Foundation, but I don’t really know how I’d do that.” She glanced at me. “I was actually hoping your boyfriend might be able to help me out. That day at the park, he told me about his major—community business or something like that.”

  “Community entrepreneurship,” I said.

  “Oh, that’s right.” Denise smiled. “I didn’t know what that was and he explained how it’s for people who want to go into businesses that benefit the community in some way. Do you think he’d be able to give me some pointers?”

  Not wanting to talk or even think about Hudson right now, I “accidentally” knocked over a jar of sprinkles. “Oh no!” Leah exclaimed.

  “No harm done,” Denise said. “I’ll get the Shop-Vac.”

  Luckily, no more mention was made about consulting Hudson, but I did end up overdosing on sugar. They gave me an early Christmas present which I adored—a plum colored T-shirt that said, “Port wine is my favorite color.”

  After I left their house, I stopped by the drug store to pick up some highlighters and shampoo and it wasn’t until I was back at the dorm that I realized I'd forgotten I wasn’t wearing makeup. I’d forgotten that from the moment I left the Snows until now, people could see my PWS. I’d gone about my business like I didn’t have a big splotch of color on my face and nothing happened. I felt like I’d just aced a final. Pride and joy and an exhilarating feeling of freedom suffused me and I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

  But almost immediately afterward, my balloon of happiness deflated as I came to the bleak realization that the person I wanted to share this accomplishment with most was Hudson.

  37

  Hudson

  On the plane ride back, I got what I thought was a great idea—a symbolic gesture that might go a long way toward softening Indi’s heart and convincing her that I really loved her. It was a long shot and it was going to be a week of sheer hell, but that was kind of the point.

  Unfortunately, after we landed, it took me a while to find what I needed, then I had to go home to apply it—no easy feat—and make a phone call.

  By the time I drove up to Carter Hall at around nine thirty, doubt began to hammer me. I glanced in the rearview mirror and grimaced at what I saw. This was either going to work out beautifully or she was going to laugh in my face.

  I was so nervous, I performed my entire pregame routine in the Jeep—the breathing, relaxation, visualization of happiness, banishment of negativity and the pep talk. When I was done, feeling calmer and more focused, it was gratifying to know the system worked for non-hockey situations too.

  “Who is it?” Ruby said, when I knocked on the door.

  “It’s Hudson. I need to talk to Indi.”

  “I don’t know if she’s home. Hold on.”

  This was total bullshit because their place was too small for her not to know if Indi was there or not, but I respected Ruby’s desire to protect her friend.

  After hushed conversation, Indi opened the door. Her jaw dropped open at the sight of me and she gasped.

  My heart did a hard thump-thump in my chest at the sight of her in a Burlington U hockey T-shirt and sweats. If she was wearing that shirt, she hadn’t completely written me off. That gave me hope.

  38

  Indi

  “Oh my God, Hudson, what did you do?” I asked.

  A bright purple blotch in a rough approximation of my birthmark covered the upper left quadrant of his face. It looked completely ridiculous. He looked as if he’d just been to a carnival and asked the face painter if, in addition to rainbows and unicorns, they could do an amoeba.

  But aside from his face, he was a sight for sore eyes. I’d missed him so much. So many times I’d wanted to reach out to him, but I couldn’t. He’d been the one in the wrong, so he was the one who had to make the first move. I loved him and I wanted more than anything for things to be right with us again, but not if it cost me my self-respect.

  “It’s more about what I’m going to do,” he said, closing the door behind him. He turned to Ruby, who stared at him with obvious disdain. “I’d like to talk to Indi. Alone.”

  Ruby looked to me for guidance and I nodded my agreement.

  “Okay, fine,” she said. “But if you need me to kick his ass out of here, just say the word.”

  She gave Hudson a threatening “I’ve got my eye on you” stare then went into her room and shut the door. I liked knowing she had my back.

  I felt calm as we each took a seat at the tiny dinette.

  “So what’s with your face?” I asked, crossing my arms.

  “I’ll get to that in a sec. First, I want to tell you how sorry I am for what I said to you. I did the worst thing someone could have done to you and the only excuse I have is that I was temporarily insane.”

  “That is such a bullshit excuse it’s not even funny, cock waffle!” Ruby yelled through her door.

  Even though I would probably end up telling Ruby what happened later, that didn’t mean I wanted her listening real time.

  “Come on,” I said, “we’d better go into
my room.”

  Once we settled again, him on my bed and me on the chair by my desk, I said, “All right, let’s hear it. Tell me how you were temporarily insane, because I have to agree with Ruby. That’s a pretty bullshit excuse.”

  “I know it sounds like bullshit, but I don’t know how else to explain it. I just lost my shit. I was scared out of my mind that I was never going to play in the NHL and it would have been all my fault for ignoring everything my body was trying to tell me. Everything you were trying to tell me.” He sighed. “The truth is, I knew something was seriously wrong with my ears and was too afraid to do anything about it, except lash out at you when you tried to help me. That was wrong and I hate myself for how much I must have hurt you.”

  “You did hurt me,” I said softly, but he frowned.

  “Sorry. I didn’t catch that.”

  Of course he hadn’t.

  “I said, you did hurt me. You stabbed me right in the heart, Hudson. After everything I shared with you about my birthmark, you knew how sensitive I was about it and you went ahead and made fun of me anyway.”

  His face contorted into a mask of anguish. “I know. It was the meanest thing I’ve ever done and not a second goes by that I don’t wish I could go back and do it all differently. But I was freaking terrified my hockey career was over. I just wanted you to stop talking so I could stay in denial instead of face it like a mature human being.”

  His voice caught and I looked up to see his head bent, his shoulders shaking. He was crying. It hurt to see him suffering like this and I wanted to hug him, but at the same time, part of me was glad. I’d certainly shed my share of tears over this the past couple of days, so I stayed where I was and let him twist in the wind a while.