I punched him in the arm, bringing some levity to the table. Hope she doesn’t know who you are. Does she watch hockey?
Yeah, yeah. Fuck you, dickhead.
That’s an interesting sign for dickhead. You come up with that all by yourself? I can’t imagine Karen taught that one to you.
Cage flipped me off. Another one of his best-used gestures. You knew what I meant.
So are you thinking of saying yes? Are you guys going to meet this girl?
What do you think? You know I’m not ready for another kid.
What I thought was that he had already told Karen yes. At my knowing stare, he just flipped me off again.
Shut up.
Chapter 19
To celebrate Jennie’s first three months of pregnancy gone by, I obtained her coveted Aerosmith tickets with backstage passes. Actually we’d be witnessing the concert from in front of the barricade right at the stage. Sometimes it was great being me. I rarely used my hockey player status to get what I wanted, but I saw that changing when it was something my wife desired.
About a week ago, Jennie had stopped being sick. It was a blessing I was more than thankful for. Through my readings of all things related to being pregnant, I discovered some women were sick for the entire nine months! And they called them the weaker sex? I begged to differ. As an added bonus, her mood swings evened out. Now she only got pissed at me when I deserved it. I wouldn’t have changed a minute of the journey, though. She was a rock star.
“Hey, babe, how was practice?” She sat at her newly installed desk in the living room. She’d finally moved into my condo—well, ours—but we hadn’t decided what to do with her house yet.
So far the only thing I’d lost in the transition was the spot for my hockey stick. She’d moved it to put one of the living room chairs in that corner in order to make room for her desk, so that she was facing the ocean while she wrote. She’d asked before she did it, knowing I was particular about my “habits.” It was my thought that whatever Jennie did for me only made me better. Of course, we’d lost our last three games since she’d moved my stick.
“It sucked. Coach made us bag skate for an hour, but that’s over. Now I just need food and the couch.”
It was like she read my mind. “That’s bullshit—and maybe my fault. Let’s try something.”
She disappeared for a minute and came back with my stick. It didn’t leave our living room in her preferred, perfectly spaced positioning of furniture, but she shoved the chair in the corner forward and placed my stick back in its spot. I’m not saying I believe in superstition, but let’s try that. She sat back down at her desk, giving me one last glance. I already had lunch…twice…can you fend for yourself? I want to finish this article, but I’ll be done in time to finish dinner.
Sure thing. Thanks, babe.
Jennie hated cleaning, but she loved cooking. She cooked a lot of different things, looking for meals that were both good and healthy. Some were successes, some were not.
Tonight’s dinner was categorized as a success. “Oh, my God, Jennie. Put this in the save pile.” She’d made some kind of chicken dish in the crockpot that was to die for. It was creamy and had lots of flavor, plus it was served over noodles. Low carb, wheat noodles, but hot damn, it was good. She’d even baked fresh green beans, brussels sprouts, and zucchini in the oven with parmesan cheese. Cheese made everything better.
“Yeah? I like it too. That’s a first.”
She wasn’t wrong. She tended to like the leaner things while I liked the things that I really wasn’t supposed to eat that often, which was why she didn’t cook them.
“Hey, I like some of your chicken dinners.”
“Yeah, but you don’t eat the veggies.”
Not having anything good to say, I kept silent.
Jennie’s birthday was coming up, and I’d asked her to think about what she wanted. “Any ideas come up for your birthday?”
“Yes, actually. I’d like some flowers.”
My lips pressed tight. I was hoping for a little more inspiration than that. “Flowers?”
Her grin made my lips relax. “Yes, flowers. I’d like to see if you can get me flowers that aren’t mangled, missing their petals, or drooping from strangled stems. Think you could do that?”
“I think I could, but what about these instead?” I handed her the VIP passes to the Aerosmith concert.
She bounded up from the table, pure excitement on her face. “Shut up! How did you get these?”
I sat back and crossed my arms over my stomach. “Baby, do you forget who you’re married to?”
“VIP tickets? Are you serious? Do you think we’ll get to meet Steven motherfucking Tyler? Oh, my God!” She jumped up and down, bringing my notice to her still-flat belly. I couldn’t wait for her to start showing.
“Yes, sweetheart. We will.” I liked when she looked at me like I could rope the moon. “I had my people call his people.” That wasn’t quite how it went down, but she didn’t need all the particulars.
She rushed over to me and peppered my face with kisses. It was already worth the small fortune I’d spent to make it happen. “Thank you, Mags! You have no idea how much I love that man!”
Well, shit. I sure didn’t want him to upstage me…
***
Jennie was still asleep when I got home from practice and my team meeting. We both agreed that she’d need a good, long, late-afternoon nap to handle the Aerosmith concert in Philly. I puttered around the house, read the article she was working on—which was a gifted piece of writing—played with Eight Ball, and eventually sat down to read more about what to know when you were expecting. That book was tiring, as it taught me that I knew nothing.
Jennie appeared in front of me with no warning, since my back was to the hallway. I must have snoozed myself, because she was already dressed and ready to go. I could not have been unhappier.
Her attire consisted of form-fitting, black skinny jeans, an Aerosmith tee that was entirely too low cut with sexy fringe for sleeves, and knee-high, black leather boots.
“Go change.”
It just came out. I knew better. Jennie liked me being strong as long as it wasn’t a command against her. I got that, I did, but still. Fuck no was she going to a concert full of horny men—Steven Tyler included—looking like that.
“Good try. Look, Mags, in a couple of weeks, I won’t even fit into this stuff. Give me this night!” Jennie almost always graciously gave in to my caveman side, so I found it hard to deny her—but I did.
“No. Go change.”
She patted my cheek; therefore, I knew I’d already lost. “Nope.” She looked me over. “You going to wear that?”
“Sorry, love. I don’t have any whips and chains.” But I did change. I wore the tightest T-shirt I owned with dark construction boots and my well-worn jeans. It was the best “don’t fuck with my woman” outfit I had.
My jealousy was all for naught. Aside from my wife getting some well-deserved appreciative glances, no trouble arose. Of course I didn’t know if there were any catcalls, and I was pretty sure she wouldn’t tell me about them.
***
We met the band before the concert even started. It turned out that they were big hockey fans, although their team of choice was the Bruins, being that they were from Boston; but Steven in particular loved the sport.
He didn’t care that I played for a rival team. He was a true fan of hockey and thought it incredible that a new team had a better record than his Bruins. Truth be told, so did I.
We spoke for a bit with the help of Jennie. Steven had a tendency to look around as he talked, which didn’t work so well for me.
Right before they were ready to go on, he asked me if I was game for a bit of fun. He explained what he wanted to do, and I said, “What the hell?” Jennie’s face was shocked but approving.
Aerosmith opened with “Walk This Way.” I couldn’t hear it but damn if I didn’t feel the energy. I blasted that song out of the water in m
y head. Fuckin’ A, it was fun.
Next was a softer song that I wasn’t familiar with. I knew the movie it was from, but I’d never heard it. Oh, I knew it was the first time they’d ever hit number one—which boggled my mind considering how incredible “Dream On” and “Sweet Emotion” were—but I’d never had the privilege of hearing it.
Jennie swayed to the music with her eyes closed. I’d never seen her like that. Her body absorbed every note. She felt the music.
When I was young, I had played the piano. My doctors told me after I lost my hearing that I could still play, but I was such an angry boy, I’d never even tried.
About halfway through the concert, Steven was ready for me. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, man. Let’s do it.”
Jennie gave me a quizzical look.
It’s okay.
Steven took me with him to center stage. I looked at the mass of people wondering at first who the hell I was, and why I got to be on stage. It was enjoyable watching as so many faces light up with recognition.
Steven tugged my sleeve. “I wish you could hear this, man. They’re chanting ‘Let’s Go Breakers!’ I can’t even be upset!”
I looked back at them in my customary silence.
Steven tugged my sleeve again. “Raise your fist, man!”
I did, and even I could tell the crowd went wild.
An interpreter I didn’t know appeared in front of me. Steven, or his people, had obviously planned this out. He tapped me, but then pointed to the interpreter.
I’m sure most of you know this man as the infamous Silent Defender. Well, guess what? He’s also a motherfucking Aerosmith fan! Yeah! Raise it up, Philadelphia!”
The crowd went wilder still. He says he says he’s deaf, but I think the Philly crowd is so FUCKING AMAZING that you can make the deaf hear! I knew this was coming, but damn, Tyler was an entertainer. Let me ask you…who loves the fucking Atlantic City Boardwalk Breakers?
I heard nothing, of course, but the cue cards told me to ask for more. I wiggled my fingers toward me and tilted my head. Following the interpreter’s signals, I waited. Steven asked them for more. I said who loves the motherfucking Breakers? He can’t hear you!
At the cue card’s signal, I placed my hands over my ears as if the support was deafening. The crowd got their entertainment, and I got a great plug for the Breakers and a bit of fun.
When the crowd calmed down, Steven led me to his piano where he sat down to play. He tapped my shoulder so I knew he was talking to me—he also spoke through his mic. “Your lovely wife told me this was your favorite song at the time you lost your hearing. This is for you, Mr. Eriksson. May fire be in your heart and ice flow through your veins.”
I knew those words had come from Jennie. It was all I could do to hold my composure. Right before he started playing, Steven took my hand and placed it directly on top of his piano. My eyes closed on impulse as the notes flowed across the stings of the instrument.
I felt each one. I knew every note and lyric to “Dream On.” Before I’d lost my hearing, that song led me to believe I could do anything. I never had a doubt in the world when I listened to him croon about never giving up until you’d achieved your dreams. Even now, I got lost in it.
At the end of the song—as the very last note sprang from his piano—I knew. I knew with a clarity I’d not yet experienced in any other decision in my life. I wanted my hearing back. Not for me, but for what I could possibly miss with my wife and child. Never give up on your dreams until you’ve achieved them. That was Steven’s message, and I wasn’t doing it.
I wanted to hear my wife’s voice when she called out my name. I wanted to hear her laugh, cry—hell, I wanted to hear her yell at me for some inane wrong I’d done her. And I wanted to hear my baby. Laugh, cry, gurgle, burp—I didn’t care. I just wanted to hear my baby.
Chapter 20
Jennie
Watching Magnus hold onto Steven’s piano with his eyes closed was a poignant moment. It was his stillness that about did me in. I knew him well enough to know he was cursing his disability, but at the same time reveling in the feelings he got from the music that the hearing population would never fully appreciate.
Most times I forgot about Magnus’ inability to pick up sounds, because he often “heard” better than the hearing. Because he didn’t have a choice, he listened harder. He paid more attention to body language and facial expressions. Sometimes I thought those of us who could hear were the ones with the disadvantage. Mags understood people much better than I did.
Baby, that was awesome. I switched the overhead light on while we sat in the car watching people fight each other to get into the long line of traffic leaving the arena. We’d made the much better decision to wait until the crowd dissipated. Thank you so much. I let out a huge yawn. I was beat, but what a way to tire yourself out!
Believe it or not, I think I might have enjoyed it even more than you did. What an incredible night. When I had my hand on Steven’s piano—I swear, I could hear every note in my head. Just like I remembered it. God, that was amazing.
I’d always tried my best not to pity Magnus, and I think I was successful. He didn’t pity himself and there was almost nothing he couldn’t do, but sometimes it took me unaware. It wasn’t fair! A freaking virus. That’s all that happened to take his hearing.
I let my anger go as quickly as it came. Anger didn’t solve anything and Magnus wasn’t going to chance the possible failure of an implant surgery. I had to be okay with that. Hell, after doing the current research myself, I wasn’t sure I blamed him.
There were high success rates, but there were plenty of people who didn’t do well with the cochlear implant too. One of the things that stuck out the most was that they didn’t suggest it for anyone who was involved in contact sports. Well, hello…hockey, anyone?
He could still have the surgery, but he’d have to take the external part off to play, and even then if he got hit too many times on his ear, it could ruin the whole thing anyway. I’d like to think I would try everything if I were in his shoes, but I didn’t know. Maybe I would, maybe I wouldn’t. In any case, I stood by Mags’ decision not to have the surgery.
I was rooting through the glove box for a tissue when my hands froze at Mags’ declaration. With no preamble, he just blurted out, “I’m going to have the surgery.”
Irony—that was what it was. I’d accepted the fact that he didn’t want the operation. Understood it even.
“Could you say that again?”
“I want the implant. I want to hear again.”
I didn’t believe my ears. “Why?”
He cupped my face in such a gentle way, I leaned toward him to kiss his lips. “Sweet, Jennie. I lost ten years of my life when I thought you were in that burning building. I ran in there thinking of nothing but getting you out, and I couldn’t. I yelled and yelled for you but what good did it do? You could have been screaming my name, and I couldn’t hear you.” He shook his head and put his hands in his lap. I reached for him and turned his head to face me.
“That was a freak thing that happened. I don’t plan on getting stuck in any more fires.”
“And what happens when our child cries out, and I don’t even know it? How could I live with myself if my neglect hurt them? Or you?”
I hadn’t realized he was obsessing over these things. “Deaf people have children every day. We’ll figure it out. Together. You’ve never neglected me or the baby, Mags. Not once.”
“But I have a chance to hear again. Maybe it won’t work, but there’s a chance. What if I could have a normal life again? Don’t I owe that to you and me to at least try?”
“No. You don’t owe it to me. I understand why you didn’t want to do it, Mags. I do. And you’d still be deaf when you played hockey. You know that, right? You’d have to take it off to play.”
He tossed that care aside with a shake of his head and a flick of his thick wrist. “I don’t need to hear to play. I know I’d have t
o take it off for certain things.” There was a gleam in his eyes as he spoke. “God, Jennie. Think about it. I could listen to music, maybe start playing the piano again. Watch TV without the damn closed captioning. Think of all the things I could do.”
“Well, sure. That would be wonderful.”
“Why does it sound like you’re against this? I thought you wanted me to get the surgery.”
I did want him to, but what if it didn’t work? What if it worked for a while and then didn’t? Could he go through that again? I wasn’t sure if I wanted to take the chance anymore. We’d gotten used to the way things were. “I’m not against it. It’s just that you had valid points before. And it’s not a one-day procedure. You wouldn’t be able to play while you were having it done.”
“So? I’ll do it after the season’s over. The whole thing could be done just in time for the baby.” He grasped my hand, resting it on the armrest between us. “I want your support on this, sweetheart, but I’m going to go talk to a doctor either way.”
He gave me one last squeeze and then turned off the interior lights, ending our conversation. I was both elated and terrified, but his resolve was strong. He’d made the decision, and I would be there for him no matter what happened.
***
“He just decided right there on the spot?”
Izzy poured me another glass of decaf iced tea. She had a rare Saturday free, since her grandfather wasn’t feeling well. He told her to skip visiting him so she didn’t catch the bug he had. “Yeah, I guess. When I asked him a while ago if he’d ever thought of getting an implant, he answered me with an emphatic no. He says it was the fire that started him thinking about it.”
“That makes sense. Not being able to hear you if you were calling for him must have driven him crazy. That would be tough for anyone.”
“Well, he made an appointment with a specialist for next Friday.” I wanted to go with him, but he wanted to check it out himself first. The initial appointment would determine if he was even a candidate for the surgery.
Silent Defender (Boardwalk Breakers Book 1) Page 17
