by Avery Flynn
"I've fixed up the guest bedroom for you," she said, keeping her voice low. "I know you can't stay, but I thought you might need some rest."
"Tack, Bella." He smiled at her. God, she was so like their mother. She even had their mother's dark, smoky voice. "I just need a few minutes. The concussion..."
"I know. I saw the game. You had had me so worried..."
"Crenshaw was gunning for me all night."
"That's what Ivar said too." Inside now, away from the stark sunlight and the heat, Jonas relaxed. Bella led the way upstairs, the wooden stairs creaking under her feet. "I was so scared for you, Jonas. I don't think I can watch the games anymore. I hate worrying that my baby brother is going to get himself killed playing that damned sport."
"Bella, I'll be okay," he assured her as they reached the upstairs landing. There was no point in telling her about Doctor Singh's warning. Not yet. He still needed to figure it out for himself.
At the end of the hall was the room he'd jokingly claimed was his room when he first bought the house for his sister, but she'd taken him at his word. It was always ready for him. It wasn't the largest room—there was only enough room for a king-size bed, one bedside table and an armchair by the window—but he'd loved the view of the garden and the solitude. Outside, a pair of chestnut trees provided much needed shade from the summer sun and leaving the room a bit cooler than the rest of the house.
Bella lingered in the doorway. "Do you really have to stay in a hotel?" she shifted Lukas in her arms.
"It's a quick visit," Jonas reminded her. "Twenty-four hours here with the Cup, then I have to head back to sign contracts for next season."
"The kids would love it if you stayed here though." Bella chewed on her lower lip and then let out a sigh. "I would love it if you did, too. We hardly ever see you."
"I'll be back." Jonas promised. "I need to do all the things on the schedule, but then I'll be back."
"Look at you...I can still see the bruises." Bella shook her head. "Mom would hate this."
"Mom wanted me to play hockey."
"She would hate watching you play." Bella countered. "I hate watching you play. And that hit... God, I wanted to punch that guy."
"My teammates took care of that," Jonas said. "Doesn't matter, his team lost."
"You know...she's back. Mariam, I mean."
He nodded as he sat down on the edge of the bed. For the first time since he'd left New Orleans, he eased his feet out of his leather loafers and wiggled his toes. How satisfying it felt--to be liberated from shoes, to sit in a room that reminded him of his old bedroom. To be here with his sister.
"I bumped into her at the airport," Jonas said, remembering how his pulse quickened at the sight of her. "All these years of never seeing her in person and there she was at baggage claim."
"She's moved back." Bella came over to the bed and sat down beside him. In her arms, baby Lukas squirmed and squawked, fighting the inevitable nap he'd need to take. "I had lunch with her."
"You had lunch with Mariam?" Jonas grinned at her. "I thought you didn't like her."
"I was upset when she left you, you big lug. I always liked her... Maybe I was a little jealous that my brother had found someone to love when I was still trying to deal with losing Mom."
"I'm sorry, Bella."
"Why? I was happy you were in love. Back then, I just wished I'd found someone too. But I eventually met Ivar. Now I want you to be happy again."
"I am happy," Jonas countered, but his voice betrayed him. Even in his ears, it sounded flat, lifeless.
"No, you're not." Bella shifted now, turning a little so she could face him. "You haven't been happy for a long time, Jonas."
"I'm fine. And Mariam...she's got her life, I've got mine. We were kids back then. We didn't know what we were doing."
"No one knows what they're doing, Jonas." Bella groaned and then let out a laugh. "She asked about you. And... she seemed...different. Less...guarded."
"We're all different now. Maybe it's all the years we've had to grow up."
"Just because we grow up doesn't mean that we can't find what we once had." Bella
"I'm not here to chase her again."
"Did you ever stop loving her?"
"No." It was easy to admit the truth to his sister. Bella already knew the story of Jonas and Mariam. She'd witnessed it and tried to warn him to slow down, to think about what Mariam wanted too.
"Maybe she feels the same."
"Bella..."
"Okay, I give up. Take a nap...I'll wake you up in... thirty minutes or so?"
He nodded. "Check with Edwin. He's got the schedule."
"And just think about what I said, Jonas." Bella was on her feet again. She cupped Jonas's chin, just like their mother used to do. "You've both changed. Your dreams have changed. Maybe now is the right time."
"I've only got today, Bella. I doubt I can work a miracle when I've got to be seen with the Cup."
"If you want something badly enough, you can move mountains to make it happen." Bella said, her voice soft and reminding him of all those times he'd gone to her for advice and she'd told him exactly what he needed to hear...even if he didn't always listen. "The question is if you really know what you want. And I hope you do. Because I want you to be happy."
Jonas closed his eyes against the dim light and the grating traces of a headache. Almost immediately an image of Mariam materialized in his mind, a faded memory from their last night together, when a twenty-two-year-old Jonas still thought the world was his for the taking and that Mariam would always be within his reach. She'd flown over to New York City to meet him for his birthday. It was her first time in the Big Apple in and the frenetic energy and sidewalks teeming with people made her skittish.
"I wish you were here all the time," he'd murmured in her ear as they rode the elevator back to their hotel room."
"Once I'm done with my studies..." she'd promised it so many times before, but this time something rang false.
"Mariam..."
"Why do we keep doing this, Jonas?"
"When you're done, you can move here to America and we can have our life. "
"What if I'm offered my dream job?"
"We'll work something out. By the time you're finished studying, I could be here in New York, or maybe I'll stay in Boston."
"Maybe..." He'd ignored the lingering doubt in her voice. He should have paid more attention.
"We need to make a stop," Jonas said as the car backed out of his sister's driveway.
Beside him, Edwin bristled. "We need to take care of these events on the list."
"I thought this was supposed to be my day with the Cup," Jonas didn't bother to hide the annoyance in his voice. The nap at his sister's had helped take the edge off his headache and jet lag, but he would have needed at least two or three more hours of sleep to feel anything remotely like normal.
"The PR folks back in New Orleans sent an updated list of events that Garsey and Babineaux think you should head to with the Cup," Edwin handed his tablet to Jonas. He licked his lips nervously.
Shit, Jonas thought. They'd practically booked up every hour of his day in Umeå. "Where's my free time?" he quipped as he shoved the tablet back into Edwin's waiting hand.
"There's that block...from three until five."
"Two freaking hours? Did they forget I have a goddamn concussion?"
"I did convince them that the Tourist Board shoot could wait until tomorrow when we're heading back to the airport."
What the hell was going on? When they first sold him on this idea of bringing the Cup to Sweden, they'd promised him he'd only have one official event--a photo op with the Mayor of Umeå, who was a huge hockey fan and who'd been an enthusiastic supporter of bringing the newest branch of the hockey high school to the city.
After that, both Babineaux and Garsey had sworn he'd be off the hook, with six weeks to himself in Sweden to relax and recuperate. Doctor Singh had signed off on it, albeit with conditions of her own
--Jonas had to fly first-class so he could rest on the flight, there needed to be someone who could keep an eye on him for signs of his concussion symptoms possibly worsening, and scheduled breaks in the day with the Cup so that Jonas could regroup after all the stress that he'd undoubtedly be under. She'd been shrewd enough to realize that the Rajuns' owner and general manager would probably change everything at the last minute, so she made them sign a written agreement that they'd be held personally responsible if anything happened to Jonas. It was the only reason he'd agreed to this crazy twenty-four-hour trip. It was just one day and one event. But now he saw they'd squeezed in four more. He swore again and slammed his fist on the leather upholstered seat cushion.
"What about this stop you want to make?" Edwin asked, probably hoping that he could deflect Jonas's mood by at least trying to help. "Maybe we can move something around?"
Edwin's nervous grin almost made Jonas feel a little guilty for his outburst, but damn...didn't he deserve a little time to himself? He stretched out his long legs and considered his options. Even if Edwin said no, he'd figure a way to do this.
"There's someone I need to see before we go anywhere else."
"Someone...? Wait a second--are we tracking down some woman?" Edwin's jaw went tight. "What is it with you guys? Every damn time I arrive with the cup, none of you want to stick to the schedule."
"This is important, Ed."
"That's what they all say," he grumbled as he pulled out a fresh chamois to wipe away an invisible smudge on his tablet screen. "So far, every single one of you has ditched the schedule to chase after a woman."
"Oh...sorry?"
"Sorry doesn't cut it--you guys represent the Rage and the Cup! People come from all over to see you because you're a champion and then they just get me and the cup."
"But--"
"No 'buts', Magnussen. I let you get out of the photo op with the ladies from the Tourist Board, but you've got to do this one with the kids at the center. We promised them you were coming and the organizers said the kids are really looking forward to it."
"Okay..."
"It would be different if it was one of your headaches."
"You made your point, Ed."
"But you're just chasing pussy..."
"Don't ever say that about Mariam. This isn't about getting laid, Ed. I loved her. I still love her." Jonas's words flew in a heated rush. He could feel the color rising in his cheeks. He ended up swearing in Swedish and turning away, waiting for the angry flush to ease away, but his skin was still hot.
"Sorry, Jonas." Edwin sounded contrite enough. Jonas knew I was making things difficult. Ed was just trying to do his job--get Jonas and the Cup to all the engagements the team had agreed to and Jonas was probably being a skitstövel. "It's just...damn it, you think I like having to make apologies to little kids who show up wanting a picture with you or your autograph and then get disappointed that it's only me? I mean, at least they get the chance to see and touch the Cup but what they really want is to meet their hero. And that's not me. That's you."
"I know...fan, I'm sorry, Ed. But...can't we just make a few adjustments? I don't even have any breathing space? Sometimes I need a little time to myself. Especially now."
Edwin was silent for a minute. They crossed a bridge that took them over river Ume and back into the city center. He snapped his fingers. "I can give you three hours tonight."
"How?"
"There's a dinner with the mayor." Edwin's brow furrowed as he scanned the list. "This is a long one...four hours booked. And his office specifically you and the Cup, not just the Cup. If you just make a quick appearance and then leave...then the rest of the night is yours."
"I'll take it." It was better than nothing. If Jonas could get a few hours to reconnect with Mariam--if she'd let him--it was enough to maybe change his future.
"No, wait...the Tourist Board photo op--the one we had to move before--they're going to be there too. They want some shots with you and the Cup after dinner. Perfect, this means we don't have to worry about swinging by there tomorrow. I need to figure this out. This is why I hate making changes...but maybe we can convince them to use the same pictures from the meet and greet before dinner. You think you handle that or...? I don't want you knocked out by another headache."
"Yeah, I can do it. I should be fine now. What time do I need to be there?"
Edwin tapped his tablet screen a few times. "Where is it...? Where...? Ah, there! We need you there by 10PM."
"Okay. That works. If I give you an address, can the driver pick me up?"
"Sure, as long as we can get you there for the photo op."
"Alright, it's a deal then. If I can't make a miracle in three hours, it wasn't meant to be."
"A miracle?"
"Yeah... I'm going to do everything I can to make Mariam love me again."
Edwin shook his head as he slipped the tablet back in its leather Cajun Rage case. "Looks like the Curse of the Cup has struck again."
"The curse?"
"Everyone who has the Cup for a day falls in love...or so they say."
"You don't sound convinced," Jonas grinned. "You think my chances are bad?"
Eddie shrugged. "You're the Iceman...you can pretty much do anything."
Jonas snorted and went to scratch his eyebrow but his fingers met the still-tender scar from his collision with Crenshaw. The bruising and swelling from his broken nose wasn't as bad as it had been. At least now his nose no longer looked like an ill-formed lump of clay. His skin wasn't so sallow anymore now that he'd been spending more time outdoors than in a frigid practice rink.
"What's your plan then?" Edwin wondered. "Can't go into battle without a plan."
"I don't really have one."
"You think you can just whisk her off her feet?"
"No." Jonas smiled ruefully as he remembered the first time he'd tried to ask her out, when he thought she'd looked right through him and shaken her head no. "She's not that easy."
Her house still looked the same. He'd often wondered if her parents had tired of the terracotta render and painted another shade, or uprooted the rose hip bushes and replaced them with bland box hedges as so many of their neighbors had done, but nothing had changed.
Jonas pushed open the gate and was reassured that it still squeaked and groaned, just as it had so many years ago. The flagstone path leading to the front door brought so many memories back for him. All those times he'd ridden past her house on the bus to the ice rink. He'd always made sure to sit on the side that would let him look up at her window. If he was lucky, he caught a glimpse of her and that was enough to keep him going until the next time they'd meet. Some nights he'd escape the claustrophobic pall of his parents' apartment and walk to her house, he'd come through the back gate and then climb the tree closest to her bedroom window. When the weather was warm, she left the window open for him and he'd climb in and whisper her name. Those nights, they'd pull her mattress on the floor and fumble out of their clothing, making love as quietly as they could. Even when his body ached from the hits he'd taken on the ice, even when he was so exhausted he could barely think straight. The desire to be with Mariam was all he knew. And back then he'd been so certain they would always be together.
He was nearly at her front door when one of the neighbors peeked over the top of the bushes. "Are you looking for Mariam?"
Jonas came to a stop. Even the neighbor was still the same. "Fru Svenningsson? Maybe you don't remember me..."
The older woman adjusted her glasses. "Oh, I know who you are...the hockey player. Now how many years has it been?"
"At least ten, I think," Jonas said. He walked across the grass to bushes. The heady scent of rose hips tickled his nose. "It's nice to know you're still living next door. I wondered how many things had changed."
"I read about you in the papers. Aren't you supposed to be having dinner with the mayor?"
"That's later. I wanted to catch up with Mariam. Is she at home?"
"You just mis
sed her." Fru Svenningsson carefully peeled off her gardening gloves. She patted her silvery hair and then fanned her face. "She's on her way to the center to help the children. That's what she does these days, now that she's left her job in Stockholm."
"Which center?"
"The youth center, she runs a program there that helps those poor refugee children who've arrived alone." She swatted at a mosquito that buzzed around the wide brim of her sun hat. "The place where all of you kids used to go when you all were younger."
Jonas smiled and shook his head. Fate really was trying to play tricks on them. "That's actually the next stop on my schedule."
"Then perhaps you should hurry." She pretended to inspect the rose hip blooms on her side of the hedge. "The two of you have wasted so much time already, haven't you?"
"I heard she was engaged." It was what Bella had told him, that Mariam was engaged. "Some hotshot lawyer?"
"That was over and done with months ago." Fru Svenningsson grimaced and swatted at the mosquito again. "He was never right for her. There was no sparkle between them. But with you, you made our Mariam come alive, took her head out of the books long enough to remind her that there was more to life than the perfect life her parents wanted for her, still want for her."
"They didn't like me very much back then."
"What parents would like the boy who used to climb trees to sneak into their daughter's bedroom window?"
Of course she'd seen. Jonas laughed. God, it felt good to come back, to meet someone who'd known the old him and didn't only connect him with the League or the Cup. "I used to think you thought I was a little hooligan."
"Oh make no mistake, you were. But Mariam adored you, and I could tell you felt the same about her. I often told her mother to accept that you two would find a way to be together. And you did. And now perhaps you will again."
