I thought, objectively, this was a bad idea. Going to hockey games wearing clothes with his name on them wasn’t the best idea for keeping us strictly platonic—or even better, just roommates—through this pregnancy. I saw it when his eyes found me in the stands, when he came home to see me in one of the team shirts or clothes he got for me.
He was getting attached. He wore it so clearly. He wanted topay to fix my house, to flirt with me in the kitchen, to go to all family dinners, and I wanted it right back.
Wanting wasn’t enough, though, not when we had a baby almost here. I felt like she deserved parents who were sure. Stable.
I needed to protect my heart from Barry in case he came to find that these feelings had nothing to do with me, and everything to do with the fact that I was carrying his baby.
I needed to remind myself of this.
“Please?” he added after too many seconds of hesitation.
“Fine.” I pretended I didn’t see his face light up at the answer. “My parents will be thrilled.”
CHAPTER 15
THE OLYMPIAN
Neither of us had brought up Barry’s week-long roommate trial when a week came and passed. Sharing the bathroom wasn’t horrible, though I think he pooped exclusively downstairs—the walls were thin, I would know if he was going upstairs. I had no proof that he was even human in this way. He did at first try to use the downstairs shower, but between the shower head being basically nipple height on him and the water pressure being mostly a gentle sprinkle, the upstairs one was the better option. He took showers in the evening, after games or practices, because sometimes the quick shower at the rink didn’t quite do the trick.
Having him around really had been helpful. He cleaned up after himself way more than I did—the dishes were always done—and he even refilled the soaps last week. The food prep was a help, too. He didn’t mind lending a hand with projects when he got home, staining the shelves I was making for the living room, or sanding the doors on the dresser I was stripping.
I figured Barry would get sick of sleeping on a too-short blow-up mattress in my living room, Junior usually sleeping laid out against him. He probably had an expensive-ass bed at his apartment and eventually he would want to return to more luxury living, but even after almost three weeks of this, he didn’t seem to tire of staying with me.
Having a roommate who traveled half of the time was great in that I was basically back to living alone when he was out of town, but not great in that when he was gone, I had to startcooking for myself again after the prepped meals ran out. Also, I could tell Junior missed him, which was increasingly concerning to me. Missing Barry was not a habit either of us should get into, temporary fixture in this home as he was.
Every day when he was on the road he sent me pictures: his breakfast, a pigeon outside his hotel window, one of the rookies bouncing a soccer ball on his head, an ice pack on his sore leg after a hit. It was like he didn’t want me to forget about him in the days he was away, even as I had ever-present evidence of him growing in my abdomen.
I started sending pictures back, though fewer than he did: the sun rising through a window in the diner, a completed fish puzzle, Junior sleeping in various places around the house including on top of his folded air mattress in the corner of the living room, me waving in the team’s gym mirror wearing the maternity jumpsuit Dad got me with HARVEY JANITORIAL on the chest.
Barry
New outfit!
Hannah
Nice, huh? Really fashion forward around here.
Barry
I like them
I stowed the phone in my pocket, sure that he really did.
I didn’t think he was still mad at me from our Thanksgiving chat, but then again, he’d been gone for many of the days since. I guessed, if anything, he felt like he could be mad about me almost not telling him or just be glad that I ultimately did.
I was glad too. He brought a certain energy to my days that was missing before—a friend. And it was very helpful having him around. I could admit this much.
The team travel was split up, sometimes just a few days, other trips almost two weeks. He printed a schedule of the homeand away games with indications of travel and put it up with sticky tack in the kitchen. I found myself looking at it while I ate breakfast, counting days till he came back, and secretly looking forward to the two-week home stand where he wouldn’t have any away games at all.
I snapped a picture of the calendar, my finger pointing to the two weeks where there were neither home nor away games and texted it to him.
Hannah
What happens in February?
He responded within a minute.
Barry
