52. Lemoyne

Is there anyone out there? Part of me wanted to post this last night after the Hawks win but I thought I should save it for today... If you're still with this, let me know what you think


Blondie - One Way or Another


JORDAN'S POV


The flight from Thunder Bay to Montréal was pretty quiet. I was glad I had Eric to keep me company. Max was throwing his annual preseason bash at his house in Lemoyne which had to be a good sign. It was a good sign that Max had left Pittsburgh, it meant that he was dealing with his grief and living his life like the Talbot we all know and love.

“You’re quiet?” Eric said looking at me questioningly when Marc had gone to use the bathroom - he was still pissing me off. There was nothing wrong with being quiet. We were on a flight, I’m just saving my energy for later. I thought about Montreal and how I would be in the same city as Ella.


*****FLASHBACK*****
“I couldn’t even get close to her at the funeral,” I said to Eric as I stood washing up. Eric put the cutlery he was currently drying away in the drawer and put the towel on the counter.

“Funerals aren’t there for making amends and hitting on your ex-girlfriend, even if she looked shit hot. You would look like a dick if you hit on her when she's vulnerable like that. They’re for saying goodbye,” Eric said as he picked up the bowl I had just washed from the draining board.

I nodded. Eric had a point and not just the point about Ella being shit hot. It would have been inappropriate and distasteful of me to make an open move on her at her best friend’s funeral. We had been there for Gina, I had been there to help Max, and the point was to say goodbye. It was closure for them.

“Maybe you can look her up in Montreal when we go over for Max’s thing?” Eric suggested. “Y’know, yellow pages, that kind of thing.” Eric was probably right – how many Parises were there going to be in the phone directory?

“Yeah,” I said, thinking about it. It just seemed sort of pathetic that I was going to go through a phone directory. Now that Gina had gone, I didn’t have any way of contacting her and I wasn’t going to get facebook just to talk to her. I liked to do things in style – I’ve never gone to any trouble trying to get a girl back before, because, well the girls before Ella weren’t worth it.

“How do you know all this? Tanya ever give you heartache?” I said, straining my memory to remember if I could think of a time when Eric wasn’t with Tanya. Eric merely laughed and shook his head. “As if, it’s just what you do. Natural instinct.” Pfft – instinct, whatever. Eric’s telling a fat porky if this isn’t from his own experience.

Eric handed me the bowl back. “Missed a bit,” he said as I dunked the bowl in the sink to let it soak some more. I hate washing up.

“So what do I do if I see her? Some big, romantic gesture? I don’t know if she’ll be impressed by that,” I said thinking if I brought her millions of flowers or helium balloons. If I was going to do something like that, I needed things that weren’t so temporary; flowers die, chocolates get eaten and helium balloons only go down and they’re not fun after you’ve deflated them to talk like a three year old.

“You talk to her,” Eric stated simply as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You tell her why you still love her and just make her feel appreciated, wanted and loved. Every girl wants to be wanted. But don’t put any pressure on her, it has to be her decision. Don’t dive in there and lay all your cards out on the table. It’s like going all in on a round of poker when you’ve just seen the flop – it’s too obvious. You wait to see what she says, like the turn, and then depending on what she says you act on the final card, like the river.”

I grinned as Eric tried to simplify it all for me. “You could write a book from that bullshit when you hang up your hockey stick,” I said lifting the newly cleaned bowl out of the sink and pulling the plug.

“Never!” Eric said whipping the towel around and around with his wrist as I dodged out of the way as he tried to whip my butt with it. Ha! Unsuccessful! Grabbing a towel from the table, I flicked it round my wrist, trying to work out which way round the table Eric would go.

*****END FLASHBACK******


When the seatbelt sign pinged, Marc finally returned from the bathroom. About time, I was beginning to think he’d flushed himself out of the plane. Instantly, Eric and I looked at one another before I put a thumb and finger to my nose. “You forgot to close the door,” I said pointing at the bathroom door that was in front of us.

“I feel sorry for whoever’s got to clean that after you,” Eric said Marc dropped down into the seat next to him. I shook my head and looked out of the window as the plane began to dip as we headed across large expanses of water.



“Dude, it’s a left here!” Marc said as we tried to navigate through the streets of Montréal. I recognise where we are but it’s a whole different kettle of fish when you’re trying to drive around this city. The previous times I’ve been here are with the team and we’ve been on the bus or walking around, sightseeing so map reading has never been a problem.

“Your map’s upside down,” Eric said as he sat in the back looking over Marc’s shoulders as Marc hurriedly turned the map around.

“Right, where the hell are we?!” I said yanking the map off Marc and looking up at the nearest street sign which read “12th and Jean Talon”. Fuck, I thought as I located our spot on the map. How the hell had we managed to drive from the airport at Dorval all the way around to North Montréal when we were supposed to be in the fucking South, south of the river.

“Marc get in the back. Eric, you’re mapreading,” I said as my stress levels had just about had enough. Eric patted Marc on the back as he grunted something before heading into the back of the rented SUV. I can do without his useless carrot brains right now.

“Take a right here,” Eric said as we headed down perhaps the busiest road ever, passing cafes and bars and people milling about in the street. I rolled to a stop at the lights trying to work out where I was. I remember Max and Tanger bringing us up here once before for the ‘better bars’ they had said. TK and I had been wasted and I think that was the time TK had stolen a plant pot from a bar which he had ceremoniously carried around with him all night.

“OK, we just have to cross the river,” Eric said twenty minutes later as I knew we were somewhere near the Bell Centre. I headed towards some sort of tunnel and flicked the headlights on as I looked for signs for the bridge. It didn’t help that all the signs were in French. “Pont, take a right here,” Eric said as I manoeuvred into the right hand lane.

From there it was easier to get to Max’s house. Two summers ago he had brought a house in Lemoyne only streets away from his parents house because ‘he liked the neighbourhood and living on the island was too expensive and he got recognised too often’. I pulled up in front of the house. It was only four o’clock but it seemed later after Marc’s horrendous directions.

“Staalsies! How I like saying that!” Max came out holding a beer in his hand. “BBQ is going, let’s get cracking,” he said as we unloaded the car and followed him into the house.

Like Max’s pad in Pittsburgh, his home here was just as spotless except this one was already set up for a party. In true college style he had set up cups and some ping pong balls ready for an epic beer pong match. From the stairs down to the hallway near the front door there was a huge tube with a funnel at the end. In the living room he had the biggest sound system I think I’ve ever seen as well as some sort of twister dancefloor and some crazy flashing strobe lights that were going off in all directions. All of the furniture had been pushed back and covered with what looked like some kind of animal print. It looked like some sleazy nineties strip club, or a lot like Blush. The drapes were closed, the lights were off and the windows were fastened. “Wow this is going to be intense,” Marc said as he looked around just behind me. “Sure you can handle it carrotcake?” I joked giving him a punch in the stomach. He nodded still looking around silently as he took everything in.

As we walked through to the kitchen it was clear Max had gone all out. The kitchen table had gone and been replaced tarpaulin on which was more than a lot of sand. In the corner there were two inflatable palm trees and a paddling pool with an inflatable crocodile. "Is this an excuse for girls to get in their bikinis?" Marc asked.




Chuckie & LMFAO - Let The Bass Kick In Miami Bitch


After our bbq (much needed stomach liner for tonight) the party began to get going. Geno turned up with Marc-Andre and Vero shortly followed by Sid and Tanger. TK and Kelsey had said they were going to go to the Seychelles so they wouldn't be coming. More than half of the team arrived which began to fill the place up. Max's rowdy brothers arrived bringing with them twenty crates of beer and poutine for twenty.

Eric made a dive for the poutine, munching on the squeeky cheese and gravy.
"Jordy... dis stuff dastes so dood," he said in between mouthfuls. I shook my head at him. My body wasn't exactly a temple but I would have to be severely starving before any of that passed my lips.

"Jordan!" Vero pulled me into a tight hug as she hugged my waist. I bent down to pick her up - I swear she's shrunk even with those gigantic heels she's wearing.

"Put my woman down," Marc-Andre said as he came over. Obligingly I did and helped myself to more punch from one of Max's designated drink spots.

"I heard about Ella," Vero shouted over the music. I nodded. I didn't know how much she knew but I guessed she must have heard from Kelsey as TK and Max were the only ones I had told in depth. "Too bad. We'll find you someone else tonight," Vero said as I thought about Vero's dreaded dating service. That was the last thing I wanted tonight. I was here to get pissed and have a good time before training camp in three weeks time.

As Vero headed away, I pulled Marc's arm. "Just do whatever you can to stop her," I pleaded with him, hoping and placing my faith in him that he would be the one person who could stop Vero when she was on a mission.

"C'mon, dance," Geno said as he headed towards the living room where there were about ten girls dancing on the kaleidoscope of a dancefloor.

"I'm in Miami bitch" went the song as Vero came running through onto the dance floor. Giggling she took my hand and started dancing with me and Geno as Marc stood there shaking his head.

"Yeahhh!" Max shouted raising his drink in the air and encouraging every one around him to do the same before he downed the full bottle in one.

I copied, knocking back my own beer as the music was cranked up a level and Geno decided it would be a good idea to dance on the speaker, pulling me with him. This could only end in disaster I thought as Geno started dancing like some sort of fucking robot next to me before deciding to act like a cowboy, whipping his hands round his head, knocking me on the head. As I stepped down from the speaker, I caught sight of someone I hadn't expected to see here tonight.