Chapter Text
"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end."
(Seneca the Younger
or that one song by Semisonic)
**
Several things happen over the summer that affect the status quo.
Chronologically speaking, the first thing that happens is Sid gets dumped.
It isn’t exactly a surprise. It follows the pattern of every relationship he’s had over the past several years (promising start, complicated middle, messy end), and the same conversation ends up with the same conclusion: Sid’s life isn’t really ideal for anything other than hockey.
He can’t travel less. Traveling is essential for his job. He can’t be less famous. The fans and exposure are part of the package deal with NHL stardom. He can’t really put another person first. His team comes first by default. He can’t miss a game to celebrate a birthday or an anniversary. He can’t stay home from a road trip to feed someone chicken soup and fluff pillows when they’re sick.
Sid likes to be in love, though. He likes having someone to come home to. He likes the idea of sharing his life with someone. But he also knows that for the foreseeable future, that requires someone who is willing to mold and conform to the life Sid has to lead. It’s a lot to ask. It isn’t really fair.
So it’s not unexpected. Toothbrushes are returned, sweatshirts left behind are folded up and dropped off (not cut into shreds and mailed piece by piece or anything). It’s not ugly. Sid doesn’t do ugly. But it is sad. And the thought of facing another season alone is depressing.
The second thing that happens (or the second thing that happens pertaining to Sid’s life anyway) is that Russia invades Ukraine.
Sidney doesn’t enjoy politics. He likes reading about events well after they’ve happened. In fifty years, he will enjoy the hell out of a book about the summer Russia invaded Ukraine. But he finds following it in real time tedious. So he misses the why and how and to what extent, but the point seems to be that everyone else is really bent out of shape about it.
The US seems particularly upset, and Canada and the UK join them in harsh economic sanctions. There are rumblings of a military intervention. It’s a big enough deal that Sid hears about it everywhere he goes. The gym, the rink, his parents’ for Sunday dinner, conference calls with agents and sponsors.
Everyone is talking about Russia. It’s almost September and hockey is about to start again and everyone is still talking about Russia.
Oddly enough, it doesn’t occur to Sid until several days into the invasion that maybe this will affect the Russian hockey players. And even then he only thinks of it because Mario says something the first day Sid’s back in Pittsburgh.
“Have you heard from Geno?” Mario asks when Sid’s at the Lemieux’s for dinner.
Sid tries to remember how long it’s been since Geno’s last text. He checks his phone. It’s been a month. Sid’s been busy with the business of breaking up, not to mention getting ready for the season, doing interviews, shooting commercials, and apparently it’s been a month since he and Geno last communicated. And even then it was just a picture of a stray cat in an ally and a threat to bring the cat back to Pittsburgh for Sid because “house too big need pet Russian cat best))))))))))”
But that’s Geno. His summer seems primarily driven by photo opportunities with animals, tight t-shirts and encounters with fans and/or world leaders.
“Not recently,” Sid admits and pockets his phone.
“No one has heard from him for a while,” Mario says carefully.
“Well,” Sid says taking a drink. “He’ll be back soon. Training camp starts in a couple of weeks.”
Mario gives Sid a steady look. “Sidney,” he says patiently, but with an additional edge to his tone. “I think the point is, given the current political climate, Geno may not be coming back.”
Sid swallows and sets down his fork. “Wait. What?”
“There’s concern Russia may try to prevent their athletes from leaving.” Mario watches Sid. “They may keep them in Russia.”
“But--” Sid keeps swallowing because his throat feels dry.
“Nothing’s for sure,” Mario says calmly. “But I wanted you to know--”
Sid doesn’t hear anything else he says. Mario’s saying something about Geno’s North American agent and how no one has been able to get in touch with Geno for a few days. But all Sid can think is that Geno might not be coming back. That he might not be safe. That their season might start without him.
It isn’t just hockey Sid cares about, but life and hockey are so wound up together. Team and family are inextricably linked. Losing Geno as a teammate means losing him as an ever-present part of Sid’s life for nine months of the year.
As Sid walks back to his house that night he texts Geno. Are you okay? Text me.
Geno doesn’t reply, so when Sid gets home he starts googling to see if he can figure out what’s going on. As far as he can tell, there’s no official announcement that Russia isn’t letting athletes leave the country, but within days of the Ukrainian invasion and subsequent Western response, several Russian hockey players announced their intentions to play in the KHL in the coming season.
It’s not as though Russian hockey players never leave the NHL. It doesn’t mean they’re being forced to do it. But the fact that four or five of the most famous Russian athletes are staying in Russia sounds fishy to Sid. But nothing Sid can find indicates Geno is one of those athletes. And for that, Sid feels an inordinate amount of relief.
Russia is important to Geno. He’s proud of his country, his language, his family, but he’s also made it pretty clear to Sid and other friends and teammates that he doesn’t want to play in the KHL. That he likes the NHL style of play. That Pittsburgh is where he wants to spend his hockey career.
So maybe it’s just national pride that’s keeping Ovechkin and Bobrovsky and Kulemin and Datsyuk (among others) in Russia. But the more Sid reads (Sports Illustrated editorials, ESPN blurbs) he’s convinced the hockey players are being coerced to stay. Putin has apparently expressed disdain for the loss of Russia’s best and brightest athletes to the allure of the NHL. There are articles about athletes during the Soviet era, profiles on athletes who defected, and quote after quote from Putin expressing regret for the dissolution of the USSR and a desire to bring Russia back to dominance.
It was all still conjecture for the most part, but Sid starts to get nervous that Mario’s speculation might not be as far fetched as it had originally sounded.
**
fine Sid u awake??
Sid picks up his phone off the bedside table. Yes.
The phone rings immediately.
“Sid,” Geno says, and his voice sounds strained.
“G,” Sid says sitting up in bed. “Oh my god, at dinner tonight Mario was saying--”
“Yes,” Geno interrupts. “Listen to me. Okay? Did something maybe you be mad little bit.”
Sid swallows. “Are you staying in Russia?” He can’t think of anything else that would make him mad. And he’s not sure he’d qualify staying in Russia as being something he’d be mad about. Just really disappointed.
“No,” Geno says, frustration creeping into his voice. “Stop talk. Listen.”
“Okay, okay.”
“In Finland,” Geno says and then says something softly to someone else in the background. “A lot happens.”
Sid starts to say he heard about all the invasion stuff and that Ovi is staying in the KHL next year, but Geno keeps talking.
“I promise I tell you whole story,” Geno says. “But--” He can hear Geno’s hesitation.
“Geno,” Sid says seriously. “Whatever it is--”
“I know,” Geno says, resigned. “I know this. Is why--” he swallows. “Is why I say. Need you come to Finland, Sid.”
“Finland?” Geno’s not making sense, and it seems to make everything worse when Sid tries to ask questions. So he tries to wait for Geno to explain.
“In Helsinki. I can pay ticket. Need you come to Finland. Today. I explain when here.” Sid hears more soft talking in the background. “Is important, Sid. Not ask otherwise.”
“I know, G,” Sid says and pulls his laptop off the floor by his bed. “I’m not sure I can get a flight out of Pittsburgh before the morning. But I’ll see what I can do.”
“Okay,” Geno says, voice audibly less tense. “Text info. See you soon. Thanks Sid.”
So somehow at 6:30 am Sid’s on a plane to New York and then on to Helsinki, Finland. He texts Mario on his way to the airport to let him know that Geno is apparently not in Russia and for some reason possibly having a repeat performance of his “flight from the KHL” all those years ago, where he ducked into an airport bathroom in Finland and finally found his way to the Pittsburgh Penguins a few days later. He calls Mario because he knows the Lemieux’s expect him to tell him if he’s leaving town, that’s the precedent he’s set. But also because it seems like maybe the Penguins should have their lawyers ready for whatever Geno’s doing in Finland.
The more Sid thinks about it, the less he understands. He’s not a lawyer, an agent, a person with negotiation skills. He doesn’t handle business or contracts or visas. He’s Geno’s friend and teammate. And he has no idea what he’s about to walk into.
If Russia wants to make Geno come home, they could couldn’t they? Sid’s not going to be able to stop that.
But he told Geno he’d come. If Geno needs him to go to Finland, Sid will go to Finland.
**
Sid gets to Geno’s hotel early the following morning, local time. He knocks once on the room before the door flies open.
“Shhhh,” Geno admonishes and then pulls Sid into the room.
Sid looks around like maybe there are KGB agents in the hallway. Does the KGB still exist? Sid’s so tired.
“Geno,” Sid says exasperatedly. “You gotta tell me what’s up. And then I need to sleep.”
Geno nods. “I know. Sorry, Sid.” He guides Sid toward a door in the suite. He puts his finger to his lips and lets Sid peek in.
There, next to the king-sized bed in a portable crib sleeps a baby. A baby. Sid looks over at Geno with surprise, and Geno puts his finger against his lips again and pulls Sid back out into the living room.
“There’s a baby in there,” Sid says stupidly.
Geno swallows.
“Whose baby is that G?” Sid asks, because he feels the answer is obvious, but how can that be?
“Mine,” Geno says and flops back onto the couch with a heavy sigh. Sid suddenly notices how completely exhausted he looks.
“How?” Sid says sitting in a chair next to the couch.
Geno smiles and gives Sid a look. “Was a girl I went out with little bit in Magnitogorsk at the end of last summer. I leave. She not tell me she get pregnant. Not hear from her again.”
Sid swallows and nods, too tired to pull the rest of the story out of Geno, but hoping he’ll continue.
“I go home again this summer. Spend last couple weeks there. Lot happen at once. Girl find me. Tell me about baby. Need help. She want to go back to school in Moscow. Parents mad about baby. Won’t take.” Geno sighs. “She say she give away if I not take.” He bites his lip. “My baby, Sid.”
Sid takes a deep breath. “Fuck, G.”
“Yes,” Geno agrees.
“But--”
“Yes,” Geno says and seems to gather the energy to finish the story. “So we do stuff with lawyers. And then friends say they hear Moscow not want NHL players leave. May try make us stay. Mama panic. She remember what Russia like before--” he waves his hand around in a way that Sid assumes is meant to indicate back before the Iron Curtain fell ... back when she was young. He breathes deeply. “We panic. Buy ticket. Leave before Moscow talk to me.”
Sid nods to encourage Geno to continue.
Geno closes his eyes. “Buy ticket, pack few things, fly here. Go to US embassy and ask about visa. They say visa still good, but they say Russia may try make me come back.” He swallows. “They say would be easier if I had other reason, other than just hockey, to be in US.”
Sid furrows his brow.
“So I say, before I’m thinking through, I say am getting married,” Geno says and glances up at Sid and then back down again. “They say to American?” Geno seems reluctant to continue. Sid’s stuck on trying to figure out who Geno is marrying and why he didn’t tell Sid about it. “I say, ‘no, to Canadian.”
Sid makes a face. Because seriously, Sid feels like he would’ve heard if Geno was dating someone that seriously. But then again, he had no idea Geno had a kid until he was sitting in a hotel room in fucking Finland.
“Who?” Sid finally asks when Geno seems like he’s not going to continue.
Geno takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “You.”
“Me what?” Sid asks stupidly.
Geno smiles a small, tired smile. “I say I marry you. They call Canada. Bring people from Canada embassy. They say if I marry Canadian, I get permanent resident card and Russia not make us go back.”
Sid tries to process everything he’s just heard. It doesn’t make sense, and his brain is so tired he’s not thinking quickly enough to keep up with Geno’s broken, excited English. “What?” He offers as his sole contribution.
Geno closes his eyes and seems to try to steady himself. When he opens them he trains them on Sid. “I need--” he swallows. “I know is lot to ask. But Olesya, Sid. If not baby, of course stay in Russia. Just play KHL so not worry about parents and friends. But baby. Have to think where she be safe. Mama worry Russia not safe right now. I get scared. I run. Look bad anyway. If they make me go back could be bad.”
“Geno--” Sid finally says because he doesn’t really understand what’s going on.
“I know, Sid. I know. Sorry,” he says and runs his fingers through his hair. “Is okay if you don’t want. But if we marry, I know Olesya safe. Can get divorce when Russia calm down. But much is uncertain now.”
Sid swallows. “Geno, I’d do anything for you. You know that. But this--” He takes another deep breath. He feels like he can’t get enough air. “Why me?”
Geno nods. Like this is a question he was prepared for. “Still have to be real marriage. Canada has to think real. I try to think who I know enough to pretend, who I know who help, do big favor.”
Sid looks out toward the window. His brain feels cloudy from lack of sleep. “I need--” he looks back at Geno. “I just need to sleep a little. Then we can talk about it?” It’s a cop out, but Sid’s head is swirling, and he just needs to rest his eyes for a few minutes.
Geno looks like he’s going to protest for a moment, but then he smiles, tight and resigned. “Yes. Sleep. I get blanket.” He leaves the room.
Sid curls up on the couch and is asleep before Geno returns.
**
Sid blinks awake. There’s a quiet murmur coming from a corner of the room. Light is streaming in through the windows. He rolls over and sees Geno looking out at the street below, talking softly to his baby. Sid can’t hear exactly what he’s saying, but then again, it probably doesn’t matter much what he says, just the sound and tone of his voice are most important at this point. Sid doesn’t know. He’s always liked kids and babies, but he will admit readily he doesn’t have any idea how to take care of them.
But Geno just looks... peaceful. His face is soft, and his expression is warm. Sid slowly wakes up as he watches Geno and feels something twist in his stomach.
Geno finally looks over at the couch and grins when he sees Sid is awake. He kisses Olesya on her temple.
“You meet Sid,” he murmurs against her cheek and brings her over to the couch.
Sid sits up, suddenly nervous, as if the baby is going to judge him and pronounce him unworthy of Geno’s friendship.
“Sid, this is Olesya Evgenyevna,” he says and turns the baby so Sid can see her face.
Sid can’t help but smile. She’s small, but her face is open and bright. “That’s a big name,” Sid says as Geno sits down next to him so he’s on the baby’s level.
Geno smiles. “Yes. Full name. We call her Olesyushka.”
Sid laughs. “That’s not shorter,” he protests and reaches out to touch Olesya’s hand. She gurgles and her little mouth forms a smile.
Geno gives Sid a look. “Is Russian. Best.”
Sid rolls his eyes, but has a hard time maintaining a pissy face. “Can I hold her?” He asks reverently.
Geno smiles broadly. “Of course.” He hands her over carefully. She’s not a newborn, for which Sid is thankful. They always seem so tiny and fragile. Olesya is still little, but she seems...sturdier somehow. That’s not the right word, but that’s the first thing Sid thinks as he settles her in his arms.
She’s warm and soft, and Sid smiles at her. “Hi baby,” he says, because he has no idea what he’s supposed to call her, but she’s gurgling and smiling and seems pretty thrilled with Sid. Her cheeks are pink and her eyes are big and brown. She doesn’t have much hair, so Sid can’t tell if she looks like Geno. But he never really understands why people say babies look like their parents. Babies look like babies.
“I play hockey with your dad,” Sid says, like he needs to provide context for his relationship with Geno and give a reason for his visit.
She doesn’t respond, just smiles some more and squirms a little in his arms. She smells good. Probably just like whatever soap Geno uses in her baths. But it’s still a warm baby smell, and Sid resists the urge to hold her closer and breathe her in. He traces her hand with his thumb. Her skin is so soft, and her fingers are so small.
He looks up at Geno and finds him watching closely. Sid swallows. “She’s really cute, G,” Sid says, surprised at how scratchy his voice sounds.
Geno nods, smiling proudly. “Yes. I think prettiest baby.”
Sid laughs, and Olesya smiles at both of them. Sid’s heart does something that feels dangerously like yearning. He likes babies, but it isn’t usually a “I wish I had a baby” feeling. It’s more of a “look how cute and tiny this baby is” feeling. But this is different. He passes her back to Geno before she clouds his thinking.
“So now that I’m more awake-- When did you find out?” Sid asks quietly, using a positive tone for a pretty serious conversation.
Geno kisses Olesya’s forehead and settles her against him. “Three weeks ago. Back in Magnitogorsk to see Mama and Papa. Katya come to house alone and tell me about Olesyushka. She has baby alone.” Geno swallows and grows quiet for a few beats. “She cannot care for her anymore. Family will not help. She get accepted at university in Moscow and want to go. Going to give baby up.” His eyes get shiny as he repeats his story. “She hear I back in Magnitogorsk. So...”
Sid nods. “And I mean, you’re sure--”
“She is mine, Sid,” Geno says with a hint of warning in his voice. “Katya did not tell because I leave already for Pittsburgh when she find out. Did not tell her family until six months.” He swallows and kisses the baby again. “Does not matter. She not able to take care. I want to take care. So now Olesyuska is with me.”
“Like, forever?”
“Yes, forever,” Geno says with irritation. “How else?”
“I just mean,” Sid says carefully, “is she going to want her back?”
“We sign papers, but if she want to be part of Olesyushka’s life, of course I’m fine with this. But she know I spend most of year in Pittsburgh.”
The baby’s eyes are getting heavy again, and Geno gets up to walk her around the room a bit and then disappears into the bedroom to place her in her crib.
“Mama upset with me because I leave Katya alone,” Geno says when he returns. “But I’m not know, of course. Mama help take care, show me how. Then we hear talk about Putin want hockey players stay in Russia. And all the stuff happen over summer, talk of war. Mama get scared, remember what things like when she grow up. Not want that for us.” Geno chews his lip and looks back toward the bedroom. “So we go. We come here before anyone tell us we can’t.”
Sid swallows. He’s been in his own little world this summer. He should’ve been checking in with Geno more instead of just assuming everything was as it always is.
Geno’s watching Sid carefully. He hasn’t said anything. And Sid’s pretty sure he hasn’t asked anything either. But he’s waiting for something, and Sid has no idea what.
“That’s intense,” Sid says nonsensically because he has no idea what’s expected of him in this moment. Other than possibly marriage. But Geno has yet to float that again.
Geno nods. “Mama say now they are calling, looking for me.”
“Really?” Sid has no concept of what it would be like for his country to dictate where he could play his sport. It’s probably weird for Geno, too. Because other than the pressure he felt early in his career to stay with his hometown team, Geno’s been allowed to play hockey where he wanted to. And he wanted to play in Pittsburgh.
Geno sighs. “Yes.”
“And they can make you go back?” Sid has no idea how immigration works, even though he’s living and working in a country different from his own.
“Not sure,” Geno admits. “Maybe? If the US makes me go.”
“Will you be in trouble if you go back?”
“They say no,” Geno says ruefully. “But Mama think not to trust.” He gives Sid a pleading look that makes his heart twist. “Sid--”
Sid closes his eyes. “Geno.”
“I know is much,” Geno says. “If marry, Canada keep me even if Russia want me back.”
Sid exhales slowly. “How long?”
“Have to stay married two years,” Geno admits.
“Fuck,” Sid says involuntarily. Two years is a long time. Not that he planned to get married to anyone else in the next two years. He hopes to still be playing hockey in two years, and his plan has always been to wait until hockey was over before he got married and started a family.
Geno cringes. “I know. Sorry, Sid. Is okay. Maybe Russia not make us come back.”
Sid closes his eyes and lets his head rest against the back of the couch. He doesn’t want Geno to have to leave.
“If is just me, I just stay in Russia. Not worth fight.”
Sid opens his eyes but leaves his head on the back of the couch. Geno’s face is full of a fear Sid hasn’t seen before. Not when he arrived in Pittsburgh with no English and no idea what he was doing. Not when he hurt his knee and knew he’d be out for the rest of the season. Not after the Olympics when he was heartbroken over losing out on a medal on home turf.
“But is not just me,” Geno continues quietly. “Mama worry they use Olesyushka to make me stay. Long ago Mama remember they use families to keep people from leave. People stay loyal so families not get hurt.”
“Is it that bad again?” Sid asks.
“Maybe not,” Geno says. “But maybe? Things very tense there now. If war happen, who knows.”
Sid bites his lip. “And if we get married, you’re saying Canada would issue you some sort of residency?”
“Yes,” Geno says, a little relief creeping into his voice. “Keep me and Olesyushka safe.”
“We’d get married here?”
Geno smiles, eyes lighting up with hope. “I tell them we are already planning to do before season starts. In Nova Scotia. Small for family.”
“And they believed you?” Sid asks, somewhat incredulous.
“Yes,” Geno says simply.
**
Sid says yes.
He says yes because he has no real reason not to. Because he tries to picture what it would be like to play without Geno, to live in Pittsburgh without him, and he honestly can’t.
But ultimately he says yes because watching Geno with Olesya, he realizes that for Geno it’s not about staying in Pittsburgh or playing hockey with Sid. It’s about keeping his daughter safe, raising her, staying close to her, traveling for hockey and not worrying that something will happen to her while he is gone.
When she wakes up from her nap, Geno is in the shower. Sid gets her out of her crib and holds her while she cries. He has no idea how to make her stop. So he talks softly to her and tells her stories about her dad while she snuffles and cries on his shoulder.
Geno emerges from the bathroom, towel tucked around his waist. “Needs diaper changed,” he says immediately when he sees Sid bouncing Olesya without luck.
Duh. Sid’s not sure why he didn’t think of that. He hands her over to Geno because Sid wouldn’t want a virtual stranger changing his diaper if he were Olesya. So.
Geno laughs and takes her, speaking to her in soothing Russian. He hears his name several times and realizes Geno’s mocking him to his kid in Russian. In a flash it occurs to him that he’s going to make sure Olesya knows English, too. That’s the moment he realizes he’s already decided he’s going to say yes.
Sid swallows and smiles at Geno. “Okay, G,” he says when Geno looks up at him. “We can get married.”
**
No one believes Sid when he calls to tell them what’s happening. It takes a call to his sister Taylor (who then convinces both their parents and the Lemieux’s that Sid’s telling the truth) to get everyone quickly working to make a small wedding happen at his lake house outside of Halifax.
His mom keeps texting him things like, are you sure, Sidney? This is a big step. As if he somehow doesn’t understand the significance of marrying a teammate and staying married for two years. Curiously, Taylor doesn’t seem phased by the news. She acts as though this is something she expected by the end of the summer. That Geno having a kid and marrying Sid is all part of some plan she’d prophesied about years ago.
The only people who are aware this is a phony wedding are the people who will attend. Sid doesn’t think he could lie to his parents about it, and there’s no way Mario would believe that he and Geno have been conducting a secret relationship for years. Especially not after they have to explain that Geno knocked a girl up in Russia the previous summer.
At first, Sid tries to suggest that they will just go to the courthouse and get married without any fuss. But Taylor points out that doesn’t seem as “real” and that this way they’ll have pictures to put up around the house in case Canadian immigration stops by.
That makes sense to Sid. So they’re getting married on his lawn overlooking the water. His dad is building some sort of trellis, and his mom is taking care of the flowers. Everyone (except Taylor) has made it clear they are (capital c) Concerned, but they also know Sid well enough to know that if he’s decided something they’re not going to talk him out of it anyway. So they’re supportive, but in that way where if it all blows up in his face, someone’s going to really enjoy saying “I told you so.”
He and Geno haven’t talked much about anything but logistics. They sat in the Canadian embassy taking turns holding the baby while they told their story. They kept it simple and told the story of their friendship with an added new twist of romance starting at the beginning of the last season. Geno hadn’t known the girl he was seeing was pregnant, he came back to the US, and he and Sid turned their friendship into something more. They’ve been talking about getting married, but now with the turmoil in Russia, they decided to push that up a bit.
It was a surprisingly easy story to tell. And one that no one seemed all that shocked. One of the ladies nodded and gave them a private smile and said something like, “I always thought you two were more than just teammates.”
They’d smiled but shared a confused look. Sid felt grateful that Olesya chose that moment to spit up all over Sid’s shoulder so he had an excuse to hide his face in the diaper bag searching for a cloth and some wet wipes.
The most controversial decision in the list of hastily made decisions is not to invite anybody from the team to the wedding. Ultimately they reason that if they invite one or two they have to invite them all. And they haven’t had quite enough time with this new reality yet to pull off fooling their teammates. It’s easier if they show up back in Pittsburgh married, with Geno’s baby, and start from there.
**
They’re not the first guys out in the NHL. That trail was blazed years ago. They aren’t even the first teammates to make a relationship public. Chicago and LA went there first. So that makes it easier.
But it doesn’t make their agents any less apoplectic.
“You should’ve told me this, Sidney,” Pat Brisson says to Sid when he calls from the Toronto airport while they wait for their flight to Halifax.
“Yeah,” Sid agrees, and he probably would’ve if he’d known about it himself more than 24 hours prior. “But I didn’t. So let’s talk about what to do next instead.”
Brisson sighs heavily into the phone. “I’ve always told you,” he says, clearly not ready to be done with the preaching portion of the conversation, “that when you were ready to come out, you needed to tell me so we could employ our strategy. We’ve had a strategy, have we not?”
They have had a strategy. Sidney told his agent when he was just a rookie that he had an interest in both guys and girls, but that he didn’t plan on doing much with either for awhile. But still, knowing that there was potential for the narrative to be changed at some point, they’d talked about how Sidney would come out, if ever he felt like that was something he wanted to do.
Over the years Sid has been with men and women, but infrequently, and rarely during the season. He waits until he’s training in LA or relaxing in Nova Scotia. He has a hard time devoting himself to hockey when his brain is occupied with something like a relationship, so he’d mostly refrained. This last relationship Sid was in had been an exception. And even then it had been mostly casual dating until the last part of the season, with the extra togetherness of the off-season providing the breaking point.
“I know,” Sid says. “But this--” he sighs, “wasn’t something I expected. But it’s happening. So I thought you’d want to know.”
“I’m going to call Geno’s agent,” Brisson says, and Sidney can already hear paper shuffling and keys clicking. “This is still a bigger deal in Russia. This might be something the North American hockey fans will mostly accept, but Russia is still less tolerant about this sort of thing. Is he ready to face that?”
Sid swallows. “I don’t think that’s his number one priority at this point,” he says truthfully, thinking of Geno’s face when he talks about Olesya.
“Of course not,” Brisson says, voice softening. “Of course not. I’m sorry.” He misunderstands what Sid actually means, but it’s easier not to correct him.
“The wedding is in two days,” Sid says when Brisson seems stumped about how to continue. “Let us know if we need to do something once we get back to Pittsburgh.”
“I’ll talk to Barry, and we’ll get back to you,” he says and then he’s gone.
Geno is off having the same conversation with his agent, but also with the added wrinkle of “and oh yeah, I have a kid too” coupled with an attempt to keep said kid quiet after a long day of flying.
Sid decides he’ll make himself useful (and work off some nerves) by going to buy them sandwiches. When he returns, Geno is balancing Olesya on his leg and talking to an older lady next to him.
“Hey,” Sid says as he approaches. He sets the bag down on the seat next to Geno and hands him the bottle of water he bought.
Geno smiles at him warmly. “Hi. Finish call?” He asks.
“Yeah. You?”
“Yes,” Geno says. “This Hazel,” he says and gestures to the older woman with his head. She and Olesyushka best friends now,” he says and bounces the baby a couple of times.
Hazel nods at Sid. “Your baby is beautiful,” she says warmly.
Sid starts to protest, but Geno gives him a sharp look. “Thank you,” Sid says and moves the bag of sandwiches and sits down next to Geno. “I got you food,” he says, suddenly embarrassed by the gesture.
Hazel makes an approving noise. “I can hold her,” she says gently.
Sid looks up quickly, ready to protest the idea of handing the baby to a stranger. But they’re backed into a corner of the waiting area. Hazel is probably 70 years old, and Sid’s pretty sure he could out run her if she tried to make a break for it.
Geno smiles. “Thank you,” he says and hands Olesya to her. Geno takes the sandwich from Sid gratefully. “Sid, best,” he says meaningfully before taking a big bite.
“I hear you’re getting married!” Hazel says excitedly.
It occurs to Sid she has no idea who they are and is truly just an old woman Geno befriended in an airport because Geno is the sort of person who befriends strangers in airports.
“We are,” Sid acknowledges, because why not? And because it’s important to get used to the idea. “Just a few days from now.”
“Well that’s lovely,” Hazel says, more to the baby than to them. “Isn’t that lovely?” She asks in baby talk, bouncing a very smiley Olesya. “Your Daddies getting married!”
Geno grins and nudges Sid’s knee with his own. Something uncurls in Sid’s stomach at the idea that anyone would mistake him for Olesya’s Dad or for Geno’s actual fiancé. As if Hazel looked at their situation and saw a legitimate, loving family. He supposes it’s good that it appears believable from the outside. That bodes well for them.
They finish their sandwiches just as their flight is getting ready to board.
“Thank you for letting me hold your sweet little girl,” Hazel says as she hands the baby to Sid. She smiles warmly and squeezes his arm as he adjust his hold on the baby. “Good luck with everything.”
Sid returns her smile. “Thank you.”
Geno, of course, hugs Hazel as they leave their corner of the waiting room. Sid hopes he refrains from giving away his number and address and bank account number, but with Geno you never know.
**
Two days later Sid’s mom and sister are busily placing flowers in and around the trellis his dad built. Mario is straightening chairs and Nathalie is putting out food. His house looks great, and if this wasn’t his marriage to a guy he’s previously just thought of as a friend and teammate, Sid would be pretty happy he’d managed to have a small, private wedding at his lake house with the people he’s closest to in the world as the only guests.
There’s a photographer documenting everything, and the minister is talking to Sid’s dad about the Penguins’ power play. Geno is inside changing Olesya into a dress that Taylor and Stephanie Lemieux picked out for her. Sid’s frankly amazed Geno was able to wrestle his daughter away from Taylor. She has fully embraced the idea of Geno being her almost-brother-in-law and Olesya being her niece. Step-niece. Whatever.
Sid drifts inside and up to the room where they set up Olesya’s crib. Geno’s talking softly to her in Russian. Olesya lying on the bed, little legs kicking and a big smile on her face.
“Hey,” Sid says, feeling like a creep watching Geno when he doesn’t immediately turn and see him.
Geno smiles. “Hello. Things are ready?”
“Almost, I think,” Sid says and sits on the edge of the bed.
They’re both in dark suits. Their ties don’t match but were picked by Sid’s mom to color coordinate. He didn’t ask many questions. His approach to the whole thing has just been to submit to whatever needs to happen.
Geno looks back at Olesya and pokes her stomach.
“The dress looks nice on her,” Sid says and fingers the hem of the puffy little skirt with his fingers.
“Prettiest,” Geno says and leans over and kisses her forehead. “Always.”
Sid swallows and something twists in his stomach.
“You okay?” Geno asks carefully. They continue to not say much about the fact that they’re getting married. They talk details and paperwork and legalities. But they have yet to have a conversation about how this is kind of a big freaking deal. And how they’re about to spend two years fooling the majority of the people in their lives into thinking they’re in love and have been for awhile.
Sid nods. “Yep,” he says, because what else is he going to say? They’re doing this regardless. Sid promised he’d do it. He wants to do it to help Geno, to help Olesya.
Geno chews his lip and looks off toward the window that overlooks the lake. “Is big, Sid,” he says quietly. “Best.”
Sid smiles. “You’d do it for me,” he says. Because that’s what this boiled down to for him. Geno might not be Sid’s closest friend on the team. They’re different and their personalities and interests have always meant they don’t spend copious amounts of free time together. But they’re both loyal, they put their teammates first, and care about making the team better. Sid’s always understood Geno in a fundamental sort of way, even when he hasn’t understood certain choices he’s made.
Geno gets up and sits closer to Sid on the bed. He pats his leg. “Not good at this,” he admits. “But mean so much you do this for us.”
Sid smiles and feels his cheeks warm. “Well, you know,” Sid says awkwardly. And then he doesn’t know how to finish the thought. So he just clears his throat and nudges Geno with his shoulder.
Geno laughs and lets it go. He squeezes Sid’s knee and then scoops Olesya up and they go downstairs.
The wedding happens in a blur. It’s not a long ceremony. They don’t say their own vows, just repeat the words the minister supplies for them. Taylor holds Olesya off to Geno’s left, and Mario stands up for Sid. Sid’s pretty sure a baby can’t be a witness, but he’s happy to have his sister part of things at any rate.
Sid has a flash of regret that Geno’s family can’t be there, until he remembers this isn’t real, and Geno is probably glad he doesn’t have to stand up in front of them and make promises he only intends to keep so long as they keep him in North America and safely out of Russia’s reach.
After the ceremony there are family pictures, pictures with just Sid and Geno, pictures with Sid and Geno and Olesya, followed by a casual dinner.
Mario takes Sid aside when everyone else is occupied with their meal.
“Are you sure about this Sidney?” He asks carefully.
Sid smiles. “This is the wrong side of the ceremony to have this conversation, Mario.”
Mario laughs. “Well, there’s always annulment.” He looks over to Geno and Olesya. “It’s just a lot for you to take on. And it forces your hand a bit with coming out.”
Sid swallows. “Yeah, well.” He doesn’t know what exactly to say about that. “At least this way it’s on my terms, the coming out. And it’s for a good reason.”
Mario nods. “You’re a good friend, Sidney.” He squeezes the back of Sid’s neck. “But this is above and beyond the duties of a friend or a teammate. You realize that, yes?”
“Yeah,” Sid says and looks out toward the water. “But you didn’t see him in Finland. He was scared. Scared for Olesya, not himself.”
“I understand,” Mario says gently. “He’s a father now. That comes first. Before team and country and friendship. But I just want you to know that he’s the one with that commitment, not you. It isn’t your job to take care of him if this ever feels like it’s too much. You understand?”
Sid does. In theory. But he also doesn’t understand how anyone would expect him to not do whatever he could to help Geno out. That’s what it means to care for people, doing hard things that aren’t necessarily in one’s best interest.
“Yeah,” he says instead of trying to explain himself.
“And we’re always around, Sidney,” Mario says squeezing his neck again. “We’re always pulling for you.”
“Thanks, Mario,” Sid says, voice thick.
**
They cut the cake. Sid draws the line at feeding it to Geno, no matter how much his mom and sister try to make that happen. His parents make toasts, Mario makes a toast, and then Geno makes a toast in which the word “best” is used no less than ten times.
After the photographer leaves, and the kitchen has been cleaned up, the chairs put away, everyone either off to home or hotel, and Olesya put down to bed, Sid and Geno are alone.
Geno loosens his tie and collapses on the couch next to Sid. “Long day,” he says and smiles, letting his head rest on the back of the couch.
Sid nods and suddenly has no idea what to say to Geno.
Geno seems equally perplexed. “Nothing is different,” he says finally. “Just us like always.”
Sid smiles. “Except you’re my husband. That whole thing.”
Geno bites his lip. “Is true.”
“Has your mom called or anything?” Sid asks when the silence gets heavy.
Geno nods. “Was sad to not be here today.”
“Even though it’s fake?” Sid asks with a smirk.
Geno swallows. “Still want to be here,” he says quietly. “Sad she miss.”
When Geno left Russia this time, he left his parents and his brother, maybe indefinitely. “We can send her pictures and stuff,” Sid offers, wanting to make it better somehow. “I think my mom took some video.”
“She like,” Geno agrees. “She want to see Olesyushka in her dress.” He swallows again and looks away.
“Hey,” Sid says and rests his hand on Geno’s leg. “I know,” he says. He doesn’t really. His parents are ten miles away in the house he grew up in. And even once Sid and Geno go back to Pittsburgh, his mom and dad will come down for a weekend here and there. He’ll see Taylor when they play Boston in a few weeks. It’s something he just takes for granted.
Sid knows how close Geno is to his family, how big of a deal it is to have left them behind. He doesn’t know how to make that okay, doesn’t know what Geno needs.
Geno rests his hand on top of Sid’s and nods. “This what has to be,” he says finally. “Mama want for Olesyushka. Is best.”
Sid slots their fingers together and gives Geno’s hand a squeeze. “It’ll be okay,” he says with authority. He has no idea if that’s true, but he feels like one of them should be sure of something. So Sid will try to be strong for Geno.
**
Back in Pittsburgh, they decide to live at Sidney’s house. Geno’s house is often a revolving door of Russians, and there are currently two friends living there while one takes classes at Carnegie Mellon, and Geno seems determined to make sure Sid’s life changes as little as possible.
“You find what you needed?” Sid asks when he hears Geno come back downstairs from settling Olesya into one of the five bedrooms on the second level.
“Yes,” Geno says and grabs a Gatorade out of the refrigerator. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” Sid says and turns the volume on the TV back up. “We can get a crib or something tomorrow.”
Geno nods but doesn’t say anything.
Sid wasn’t sure at first if they’d just go back to living in their separate houses, married in name only. But the lawyer they’d consulted with in Canada about immigration issues had stressed that the marriage had to appear real (not that they’d told him it wasn’t, but he seemed keen on covering his bases). And especially as people in the public eye they would be under more scrutiny. Their lives need to be joined in Pittsburgh for this to work, and their friends and teammates have to believe the marriage is legitimate.
The permanent resident application process is ongoing, but the lawyers are working to expedite the things that can be expedited. And the Canadian immigration officials have know that Sid and Geno reside in the US for their jobs and therefore aren’t able to come in for an interview or to produce documents at a moment’s notice.
Geno will sleep in the bedroom next to Olesya’s, but he will keep his clothes in Sid’s closet. Sid found an article full of immigration horror stories where spouses were denied permanent residency because they couldn’t produce socks and underwear for the spouse or because there wasn’t a toothbrush in the bathroom. And while that seems farfetched, it also seems like if they have teammates over or people drop by it will be important for them to appear like they are sleeping in the same room.
It’s still new and surreal, but Sid wants to make sure Geno makes the house feel like his too. And he wants to make Olesya’s room special.
“I bet Nathalie would go with us to pick out furniture for Olesya’s room,” Sid says after a few minutes of watching TV in silence. “She’s good at that stuff. Plus, she knows what girls like. I’d have no idea.”
Geno smiles weakly. “Is okay, Sid,” he says quietly. “I can do.”
“But I mean, we should paint her room and get her toys and stuff,” Sid continues when Geno doesn’t take the bait.
Geno swallows and glances at Sid. “You do too much already. Not need to make fuss.”
Sid makes a scoffing noise. “Well, maybe I want to,” he says. “I mean, we’re married, right?” His voice gets kind of stuck on the word, and he blushes inexplicably. But it doesn’t make his point any less valid. “This is supposed to be your house. And her house. And Olesya shouldn’t have, like, a beige bedroom. That’s-- not good for a little girl.”
Geno chews his lip and looks down at his hands.
Sid scoots over to him and pokes him hard in the side. “Hey, if this is going to work you can’t like skulk around trying not to be a bother.”
“Skulk?” Geno asks and gives Sid a confused look.
Sid smiles. “You know, like--” he tries to think of the definition. “All quiet and in the background.” He mimes what he thinks skulking looks like, which is probably idiotic looking because Geno smirks.
“I’m not skulk,” Geno says with an eye roll. “But this is much.” He waves his hand around in a way that seems intended to include getting married and inviting them to move into his home.
“Right,” Sid agrees. “It’s a lot. But we did it. It’s done. And if you spend the next two years being all skulky and weird and quiet, it’s going to suck.”
Geno huffs out a laugh.
“So just-- stop trying to protect me from you messing up my life. Like, hate to break it to you G, but my life is pretty different now that I’m like married and have a kid in my house. That ship sailed. So. Let’s paint a fucking room pink or whatever.” He says stuff like that because it reminds him of the truth, like poking something hot that keeps burning him, or touching something sharp that keeps pricking him, but he can’t seem to stop, as if the pain somehow reminds him of something important.
Geno smiles and shakes his head. “Idiot.”
“Hey,” Sid says with narrowed eyes. “I thought we were being nice to me.”
“You say not skulk. Be normal. Normal make fun of Sidney Crosby and pink room,” Geno says with a grin.
Sid punches his thigh. Hard.
Geno laughs and squirms away. “But yes. We go buy crib. Hire people to paint.”
“We can paint a room,” Sid insists.
Geno shakes his head sadly. “I think this why we have money. So not divorce over shitty paint job.”
Sid laughs. “Ugh,” he says with disgust. “You’re the worst.”
Geno grins at him and turns up the TV.
**
There’s a press conference scheduled the next day. Mario told the coaches and management when he first got back to Pittsburgh from the wedding. He kept things brief and vague. So before they talk to the press, Sid and Geno have a meeting with Penguins’ PR, management, coaching staff and other relevant personnel. Mario will attend (for moral support more than anything) and their agents will be conferenced in via phone.
They’re not asking permission, obviously. It’s happened. It’s done. Mario suggested being direct, not editorializing or over explaining. Especially since they can’t really share the real reason for the marriage.
But before they talk to the media or management or their coaches, they have to talk to their teammates. Sid dreads that the most. He’s known some of these guys for almost ten years. They’ve won big and lost big together. They’ve been through injuries and shattering disappointment. Sid’s been part of major milestones in their lives. He’s been to weddings and visited newborn babies. He’s the godfather of Duper’s youngest kid, for fuck’s sake.
And none of them are going to understand why Sid and Geno got married and didn’t invite the team. He’s also pretty sure none of the guys he’s closest to on the team are going to buy that he and Geno have been together for a long time. Especially since Flower and Duper and Tanger knew (albeit minimally) the last person Sid dated. Sid brought her to dinner at the Dupuis’. And she had gone to lunch with Flower, Tanger and Sid a couple of times.
Sid tries to calculate how long ago that was so he knows how specific to be about when he and Geno got together. He hates lying to people he cares about.
He’s quiet on the drive to Consol. Geno keeps glancing over at him. They dropped Olesya off at the Lemieux’s house on the way in, and Sid realizes how weird it is to be in a quiet car. He never thought he’d miss the sounds of fussing and discontent. But that’s where he’s landed apparently.
“Is okay?” Geno says as they get closer to the stadium.
Sid nods and looks out the window. “I feel bad,” he admits finally.
Geno makes a small noise and squeezes Sid’s knee.
“They’re important to me,” Sid says. “This makes it seem like they aren’t.”
Geno swallows and nods. “They know you private about things though. No one know who you date sometimes. Maybe we be extra careful because teammates.”
Sid sighs. “I still would’ve told Duper and Flower,” he mumbles.
“I say I ask you not to,” Geno says firmly. “I take blame.”
“That’s not fair, really,” Sid protests. Geno already keeps himself apart from the team a bit. He’s not as quick to go out with the guys, to be part of the card games and movie watching in the hotel during trips. Sid doesn’t want him to do anything that will further separate him from them.
Geno shrugs. “Is okay.”
Sid stares out the window and watches as downtown looms ever larger. “We’ll just be vague or something. Make it sound recent. And we can say we were going to do it anyway, but that the Russia stuff sped up our decision.”
“Is true,” Geno says gently.
Sid swivels his head to look at Geno. It takes him a second to realize Geno means that the Russia stuff prompted the decision and not that they were always going to get married, that that part was inevitable. Sid blushes when he realizes his error. He needs to get his stupid face under control. That shit’s embarrassing.
“Yeah,” Sid mumbles, turning toward the window again. “Okay. I’ll do the talking.”
Geno laughs. “Yes, captain.”
“Fuck you,” Sid says easily and grins at Geno. “We’re telling them about Olesya, right?”
Geno smiles. “Yes.” They’ve opted to keep the news of Olesya out of the announcement of their marriage. They’re not going to hide her or anything. But Geno wants to make sure she’s not part of the scrutiny over their marriage. People will find out at some point, but she doesn’t belong in the middle of speculation and media intrigue.
“I want to tell them as much of the story as we can, since we can’t tell them the truth about this,” he says gesturing between them.
Geno nods and concentrates on the road for the rest of the drive.
Telling the team is easier than Sid thought it would be. He thinks that might be because they’re so stunned.
When they first gather, Sid can tell they’re confused about why they’ve been called in for a meeting several days before they’re due to report for training camp.
Sid doesn’t drag it out. He is predictably awkward about it, since he has no idea what to say. But he gets the point across. He and Geno are together, and they got married the week before. Geno has a kid he didn’t know about until this summer.
He tells them they’ll inform the press about the marriage later in the day, but that, at least for now, Olesya isn’t going to be discussed in the media.
The look on all of their faces is similar. Mouth slightly open, eyes wide, glancing among each other to make sure they aren’t missing some crucial fact or detail that makes it clear they’re being pranked in some way.
Sid gets to the end of the explanation and looks at Geno to make sure he hasn’t missed something. Geno wraps his arm around Sid’s shoulders and squeezes reassuringly.
“We would’ve invited you,” Sid says, because he can’t help it. “But we did it kind of quickly. Geno was worried they might make him stay in Russia to play in the KHL. So it-- ummm-- moved our plans up a bit. And we just needed to get married quick.” He chews his lip and looks down at the floor.
Duper and Tanger exchange a look Sid chooses to ignore.
“Well,” Flower says when no one else seems prepared to speak. “This is-- Je vous souhaite tous mes meilleurs vœux,” he finally says. “Best wishes.”
Sid nods, and Geno squeezes Sid’s shoulder again. “Thanks. It’s-- it’s good, guys. Just, it’s okay.”
Geno laughs and gives Sid a look that seems to say, “Shut up with the guilt.” Or the Russian non-verbal equivalent, anyway.
The guys become more animated after that. Geno pulls out his phone and shows them pictures of Olesya and the wedding. Sid tries to ignore the very searching look Duper is giving him and the looks Tanger and Flower are giving Duper. Other people seem confused, but for Sid, the French Canadian concern hits the hardest. Mostly because they’re meddlesome fucks whose support and love comes wrapped in a package of heavy duty chirping and disapproval.
“We should have a party or something,” Kuni says eventually. “Meet the kid, celebrate-- the-- you know-- this,” he says and waves his hand in front of Sid and Geno.
Everyone laughs, but there seems to be consensus on the likelihood the team will be dropping by at some point before training camp to force a celebration on them.
Sid sits down on the bench and watches as Geno and Nealer laugh and joke about something, and the rest of the team talks in small groups about the upcoming season. Flower sits next to him and doesn’t say anything, just rests his arm along the back of the bench behind Sid.
“Sorry,” Sid says softly.
Flower shrugs. “You have your reasons,” he says. Sid can’t tell if he’s mad or hurt or confused. Or if he knows something isn’t quite right about the whole thing. But Flower knows him well, and the scrutiny makes Sid feel uncomfortable.
Sid tries not to keep babbling and digging himself a hole. He manages not to offer up any more apologies and explanations.
“I thought you were seeing someone last year,” Flower finally says.
Sid swallows. “Yeah, for a little while. And, you know, Geno too.” He bites his lip. “We weren’t sure if we should make a go of it,” Sid improvises. “But then eventually it was just me and Geno. And when he found out about the baby, we just wanted to make sure he could be in Pittsburgh and stuff.” That part’s true at least. “It’s safer for her here.”
Flower’s eyes narrow almost imperceptibly. “Are you happy?”
Sid waits a few beats before he responds. That’s not what this is about. Maybe it should be, but this has been about making sure Geno and his daughter are protected. It’s something Sid could do to make sure that stayed true. Happiness hadn’t really come into play.
But he smiles. “Yeah.” He looks over at Geno and realizes he is happy. Maybe not for the reason Flower is thinking of, but Geno is important to Sid and now his daughter is too. And as change-adverse as Sid can be, so far he kind of likes Geno and Olesya being around, even if it’s not something he should really let himself get used to. “So far, so good,” he says lightly and smiles at Flower.
Flower nods. “That is the most important thing,” he says with gravity. “It’s the most important thing to all of us. That you are doing things that make you happy. That you are letting yourself have the things you want.” He pats Sid on the back and then rests his arm on the back of the bench again. “If being with Geno makes you happy, then I am happy for you.”
Sid makes eye contact with Geno from across the room. Geno pauses his conversation and looks at Sid with a question on his face, like he’s concerned Sid needs rescue. So Sid smiles reassuringly and tilts his chin upwards. Geno smiles, big and open and looks at him a little longer than it seems like he needs to, and then goes back to his conversation with Paulie.
They have to meet with the coaches and management in just a few minutes. That will be easier, mostly because Sid doesn’t think any of them expected to be included in wedding plans and personal matters.
Even so, once Sid and Geno explain the situation, they are still quite surprised by the situation. Sid and Geno don’t get into specifics of timeline and when or why or how. Just that this is something they wanted to do, and they don’t plan to let it affect their hockey or the way they play their game. But that it also means that the Penguins now have two “out” hockey players on their team, and they expect that won’t be an issue.
Morehouse drones on and on about equality and tolerance and getting You Can Play involved and the importance of what they’re doing. But Sid has trouble staying focused.
The PR people quickly run through press conference strategies, topics to stay away from, questions they should try to answer honestly, and so on. Sid’s gotten fairly good at handling the media at this point, but his personal life isn’t usually open to press conference scrutiny, so he’s grateful to have advice from experts.
**
The press conference itself is fairly predictable. The expected reporters are all present, including a few from national news outlets. It appears from some of the questions that several of the national reporters had already gotten tips from sources that the marriage had taken place. If that’s true, Sid’s glad they’re getting the news out there and out of the way. There’s nothing worse than having to comment on a story repeatedly as news trickles out bit by bit.
The Penguins give a statement requesting privacy for Sid and Geno as they begin the season and their new marriage. That this isn’t something that will have any bearing on their hockey. They’ll still center separate lines. They’ll still play on the same power play. There will still be extravagant goal scoring celebrations. Everything will be as it was. But at the end of the day they’ll go home together instead of separately.
There are many questions about when they got together, how it happened. Someone even asks why. They opt for evasiveness or even “no comment” on most of the questions of that nature, although when the “why” question is asked Geno chooses to answer, tongue poking through his mischievous smile.
“I think if I’m not marry Russian,” he says in the midst of a smug grin, “I marry Sidney Crosby. Best in world only thing better than marry Russian.”
Everyone laughs. So they get their feel-good quote, and Sid gets to avoid having to talk extensively about whether he’s loved Geno from the first moment he saw him (his answer is “I’ve respected Geno as a player long before he was my teammate. I’ve appreciated his game and what he contributes since he joined the Penguins. And beyond that, I’ve been grateful to lead a team with someone so focused on playing the right way. He has a big heart, and he leaves it all out there on the ice every night for all of us. It’s hard not to love all that, just a little, from the beginning.”) Geno gives him a wide-eyed look as he answers a few of the questions. And Sid blushes every time Geno praises him.
Toward the end of the press conference, as flash bulbs go off, Geno reaches over and wraps his fingers around Sid’s on top of the table, in full view of everyone. Sid glances over at him and swallows.
“Sid is best,” Geno says, a familiar refrain he’s said in several different ways already during the press conference and in interviews and sound bites for years. “Very lucky he agree to be with me. Very happy to be in Pittsburgh with him. Play hockey. Share life.” He squeezes Sid’s hand and smiles at him, almost shyly.
Sid bites his lip and feels his face heat. He reminds himself this is all part of the charade to convince everyone they love each other. But his stomach twists at Geno’s words anyway, because Geno is sort of fucking charming when he wants to be. And apparently Sid is hard up for compliments or something.
Sid clears his throat. “Yes,” he says and tries to hold Geno’s hand naturally. All of a sudden he forgets how people hold hands naturally. His hand feels extra warm and weirdly sweaty. Hopefully Geno doesn’t notice. “But the important thing for you guys and for Pittsburgh is that nothing is going to change how we play. It’s a new season soon. We’re excited about the new direction of the team. And we believe this is going to be our year to win the cup again.”
“Yes,” Geno agrees and grins out at the reporters as if he’s perfectly at ease with interviews and press and not the one that’s usually sullen and awkward about having to do this sort of thing. “I give Sid wedding present. Let him win Conn Smythe this time.”
Sid honks out a surprised laugh. “Oh sure,” he says and leans back a little in his chair. “He’ll let me,” he says to the room and everyone laughs.
“Marriage mean compromise, Mario tell me,” Geno says, suddenly on a roll. “I’m, of course, good husband. Share little bit.”
Sid rolls his eyes. “Thanks, Geno,” he says in a mocking tone.
“Welcome, Sid,” Geno says sweetly, and they grin at each other while the cameras flash.
Sid tries to wipe the big dumb smile off his face and get his serious captain face back. “So that’s what we’re going to be focused on this year, winning the cup, making the most of the talent and opportunities we have as a club.”
A few reporters shout out questions, but the PR lady cuts them off and thanks everyone for their time. Geno smirks at the reporters, gives a little wave and walks off the stage.
Sid rolls his eyes and looks out at the room. “Even when we’re married I can’t get him to stick around with you guys longer than he has to,” he says and stands up to follow Geno while the reporters laugh.
**
The day after the press conference Sid wakes up to Olesya crying. That’s not necessarily a weird occurrence, but the ferocity of her cries is different.
Sid pries himself out of bed and finds her red-faced and quite upset in her crib. He picks her up and carries her around the house looking for Geno. Sid finds him in his own room, asleep in his bed.
“G,” Sid says, surprised.
Geno groans and sounds half dead.
“You okay?” Sid asks and leans closer. Geno’s color looks off.
Geno’s eyes pop open, and he sees Sid standing next to his bed holding his crying baby. He tries to sit up and then flops back down onto the bed and groans again.
“Are you dying?” Sid asks, attempting a joke, but wondering if it’s true when Geno doesn’t really respond.
“Little bit sick, I think,” Geno croaks.
Sid isn’t sure what to do. He doesn’t get sick very often. But when he does, he just kind of muddles through. He’s never been great at figuring out what other people need when they don’t feel well. “You want--” he realizes after he starts the sentence that he doesn’t really know what to offer. “Uhh. Do you want water or something?”
Geno shakes his head. “Is fine,” he says and tries to sit up again.
But clearly he’s not fine. Also not fine is the fact that he ends up in the bathroom throwing up a couple of minutes later. Sid makes a grossed out face at Olesya. She seems less impressed with Sid at the moment than with Geno’s vomiting. But Sid decides maybe it’s time for them to leave Geno to... whatever he needs to do to not be sick anymore.
“Gonna make a bottle for Olesya,” Sid calls through the bathroom door.
Geno just groans in response.
“Okay, Olesya,” Sid says, hoping to convey confidence. “Your Papa is sick. And kind of gross. So, I think maybe you and I are going to hang out today. So don’t be freaked out about that.”
Her eyes are wide, and she watches him as he talks.
“You probably want to eat, right?” Sid asks her when he gets downstairs.
Predictably she doesn’t really say anything, just reaches out and grabs a fistful of his hair with her surprisingly strong grip.
“Ow!” Sid says, twisting her fingers out of his hair. He makes a mental note to get it cut.
He’s not sure what to do with her while he makes up her bottle. Geno usually holds her with one hand while he does everything. But Geno has huge hands. And he also seems much less concerned he might suddenly drop her.
Sid finds a blanket and puts it on the floor in the kitchen and sets her down on it. She looks at him with wide eyes like this is a completely unprecedented move. He’s not sure if she can roll off the blanket on her own. He knows she can’t really sit up yet. But he keeps an eye on her to make sure she doesn’t somehow inch worm off the blanket and disappear.
Sid struggles to remember everything Geno has told him about how to heat up a bottle (not in the microwave) and how much of the formula to add and how the nipples screw on. He has some false starts, but he eventually figures it out.
He scoops Olesya up off the blanket and takes her over to the couch where he turns on Sports Center so he has something to do while Olesya eats. He’s curious to see if they mention the press conference from the day before, and what, if anything, they’ll show of reactions from other teams. But so far, the show is all football and a little baseball. Apparently the captain of a hockey team marrying his alternate isn’t top of the hour news.
Olesya watches him closely the whole time she sucks away at her bottle, and Sid has a harder time looking away than he thought he would. Her little hand rests on his as he holds her bottle for her, and Sid melts a little bit.
She’s a cute baby. Sid feels like he can still be objective about that. He might not tell Geno if he thought she was ugly, but he’s pretty sure he’d know. She’s got bright, lively eyes and is quick to smile, just like Geno. And while Sid still thinks she just looks like a baby, he can sort of see how she looks like Geno.
Her skin is ruddy like Geno’s. She’s still pretty bald, but Sid thinks she’s blonde.
“You’ll get some hair eventually,” Sid tells her gently. “Not everyone can pull off the bald look. But you make it work.” He strokes her cheek with his finger.
She’s just going after the bottle, sucking it down in no time flat. “You’re chugging that thing,” he says admiringly. “Your Papa can do that with a beer.”
She grins brightly at him like she knows what he said. Sid laughs and tips the bottle at a different angle to make sure he keeps air bubbles from forming. Geno told him to watch out for that during his “feeding Olesya” tutorial a couple of days before.
By the time she’s done with the bottle, Sid realizes he hasn’t paid attention to Sports Center at all. He props her up on his shoulder and tries to burp her. He’s not sure how loud and ferocious a burp is supposed to be to qualify. But he pats her back for awhile and hopes it gets the job done.
After that, he gets lost googling “how to care for a four month old baby” and “four month milestones.” He doesn’t want to bug Geno, and he’s not calling his mom unless he has to. She’ll be weird and way too into him spending the day taking care of Geno’s kid. Sid wants to discourage her leading questions and hopeful comments as much as possible.
“I think maybe I’m supposed to change your diaper and put you down for a short nap now,” Sid says after reading several sites (both silently and out loud when he felt bad about excluding Olesya from his activities). He can’t remember exactly what happens next in Geno’s schedule. So he improvises.
Olesya seems unimpressed with the idea of a nap, though. She just stares at him from her crib with what his sister would call “resting bitch face.” He debates just leaving her there and hoping she falls asleep. But that seems mean. He looks around her room. How does one play with a baby? Do they have fun doing stuff?
He ends up in a pretty ridiculous game of peekaboo over the edge of the crib. And he’s hoping hard that Geno is as dead to the world as he seemed like he was, because if he sees Sid right now, he’s never going to let him live it down.
When both he and Olesya seem to have tired of peekaboo, Sid introduces Olesya to her stuffed animals. A few of them are from Sid’s family, a couple from the Lemieux’s, but mostly (and maybe embarrassingly) they’re from the shopping trip Sid and Geno took to purchase all the baby supplies. They’d ended up getting not only a crib and bedroom furniture, but a stroller, some sort of baby backpack/fanny pack/pouch thing to carry her on walks. There’s also this baby diaper spaceship trashcan thing that supposedly whisks away stinky diapers and sequesters them somehow. (Sid wants their money back for that one, as he has yet to not be able to tell when there’s a gross diaper hanging around in that thing). They cleaned out CostCo on diapers, baby wipes (and a baby wipe warmer... I mean, how spoiled are babies if their wipes can’t be cold?), various creams and powders, formula, and on and on.
The point is, they bought two cars full of baby items, and Sid learned he’s powerless against both Olesya’s face and very soft stuffed animals. And now that Geno’s not around to smirk at him, he can safely trot them all out and introduce them to her.
There’s a plush penguin Sid secretly hopes will be her favorite. But there’s also a huge bear, a unicorn, a lamb, an octopus from his sister (“closest I could find to a squid” har har, she’s hysterical), a puppy and more. Sid secretly feels they should all have names. But also doesn’t like the idea of Olesya not having any say over that. Again, these are things Sid isn’t saying out loud. Or even thinking in Geno’s presence.
Olesya watches Sid carefully, almost as if she can understand what he’s saying. Which, Sid realizes, she can’t. Plus, he’s pretty sure even if she could she doesn’t speak English. But that’s one reason he’s chattering to her. He wants her to get used to English. Or, something. If Geno wants her to. It seems valuable to Sid. But it’s not up to him.
He waits until her eyes start to get heavy, and then he puts all the animals away again. He rubs her belly and talks quietly to her as she slowly drifts to sleep. And then he goes to check on Geno.
**
Sid looks Geno’s symptoms up online (because he’s still not calling his mom about this). The internet suggests taking Geno’s temperature to see if he has a fever, making sure he gets plenty of rest and keeping him hydrated.
Sid knows about staying hydrated, so he grabs Geno’s favorite Gatorade flavor, locates a digital thermometer, and goes to see how Geno’s doing.
It doesn’t smell awesome in his room, first of all. Sid looks around to see if Geno’s actually puked in the bed or on the floor, but it seems like maybe that smell is just emanating from the bathroom. Fantastic.
“G,” Sid says gently and sits on the edge of Geno’s bed.
Geno groans. “No,” he mumbles and turns his head away from Sid’s voice.
“I know,” Sid says sympathetically. “But I need to take your temperature so I know if you’re going to die.”
Geno huffs the smallest, saddest laugh and then groans. “Not die,” he says. “Where Olesyushka?”
Sid smiles and resists a weird urge to put his hand on Geno’s forehead. “Sleeping,” he says.
“Still?” Geno asks and sits up a little before seeming to determine his head is too heavy to raise.
“No,” Sid says and pushes Geno gently back against the bed. “I got her up, gave her a bottle, we hung out a little bit, taught her some English words so you can’t talk bad about me in Russian anymore.”
Geno smiles weakly. “She still know Russian, even if learn English.”
“Well, whatever,” Sid says and pulls the thermometer out of the package. “We’ll talk about you in English then.”
Geno rolls his eyes. “I know English too, Sid.”
Sid makes a face. “Sure. You ‘know’ English,” he says douchily, using air quotes and everything.
“Worst,” Geno says and groans again. “Stomach angry.”
Sid gives in to the weird urge to touch Geno’s forehead and just goes for it. He’s clammy and warm so Sid strokes his face a couple of times. In case that sort of thing helps somehow. “I know,” he says. “Let’s take your temperature.” He sets the digital thermometer and shoves it in Geno’s mouth.
Geno watches him while they wait for it to beep. Sid smiles, or probably more accurately grimaces. But he tries to provide some solid human sympathy.
Geno has a low grade fever.
“You won’t die,” Sid declares. “But you do have a fever.” The internet said to use cool cloths on his forehead and make sure he’s not wearing too many layers. Also to give him some Tylenol if he can keep it down. “Take your shirt off,” Sid says with authority.
Geno pops an eye open and gives Sid a questioning look.
“You’re all clammy. This will cool you down,” he says and makes a “get on with it” motion with his hand.
Geno groans. “Always bossy,” he says, but he does it anyway.
Sid wets wash cloths in cool water and puts one on Geno’s forehead and uses the other one to wipe down Geno’s chest and arms.
Geno’s brow furrows. “What this do?” He asks weakly.
“Help you cool down,” Sid says like it’s obvious. “Can you sit up and drink a little Gatorade?”
Geno grunts, but struggles upright. He takes the Gatorade bottle and the Tylenol and sips very slowly.
“Don’t drink a lot,” Sid warns. “But you’ll get dehydrated if you keep throwing up.”
Geno smiles weakly. “You captain of sickness? We make fever power play?”
Sid laughs. “I can call Toews if you’d rather have his leadership in your gross sick room.”
Geno smirks. “Toews have husband,” he says. “Stuck with you.”
Sid thumps Geno’s leg gently. “You’re also supposed to keep resting,” Sid says when he doesn’t know what else to say. “You want anything else while I’m here?”
Geno hands Sid the Gatorade bottle and shrinks down into the bed again. “Have shirt?”
Sid shakes his head. “You need to keep it off so you cool down a bit.”
Geno groans but doesn’t argue.
Sid makes sure Geno has his phone nearby and finds the remote on the floor so Geno can watch TV. He screws the cap on the Gatorade bottle and rewets Geno’s forehead cloth and places it on his head.
“I’ll come back in a bit,” Sid says softly, Geno’s eyes already drifting shut again. “But if you need something, call me.”
Geno grunts, and Sid squeezes his leg and then escapes to the fresher air of the hallway.
**
Olesya wakes up from her nap a half hour after Sid leaves Geno’s room. Where she was relatively agreeable and easy to please during their early morning time together, nothing Sid does seems to impress her after her nap. Sid changes her diaper, tries to give her a bottle (she’s less interested in that than she’d been in the morning), attempts to bounce her, talk softly to her, all the things he’s done in the past few days to a relatively positive response.
“Do you miss your Papa?” Sid finally asks, when he starts to take it personally that she keeps looking at him, eyes full of tears, mouth turned downward and recommitting to a full-on sob. “I know, baby,” he says soothingly, but with an edge of frustration. “He’ll get better soon. But you have to stop crying or he’s going to wake up. And that won’t help.”
Sid finally gives in and calls his mom.
“She’s crying,” Sid says helplessly.
Trina Crosby laughs. “They do that,” she says, amused.
“But, I’ve done everything I can think of and she’s still crying,” Sid insists, angry that his mom finds this funny.
“I’m sure you have, sweetheart,” she says with a little more gravity. “Babies cry sometimes.”
“But she was so good for me this morning,” Sid says mournfully. “And now she’s acting like she’s mad at me.”
Trina laughs again. “She’s not mad. She probably doesn’t understand where Geno is. Her little life has been full of upheaval. And he’s been the constant for the past month or so. But I wouldn’t take it personally. He’s her dad, Sid.”
It’s so stupid, but it makes Sid feel a pang of something like jealousy. “I know. I know!”
“Have you tried taking her outside? Or for a drive?”
“No,” Sid says hesitantly.
“Put her in her stroller and take her for a walk around the block,” Trina suggests. “Maybe walk over to the Lemieux’s or down to that little ice cream shop in town that you like.”
“She can’t eat ice cream,” Sid says suddenly unsure. “Right?”
Trina laughs at him again. “No, but you can. And I’m sure she’ll be happier if you’re more relaxed, Sidney.”
Sid sighs. “Yeah, okay.” He looks down at where Olesya’s lying unhappily on the couch next to him. “What if people recognize me?”
“Well, don’t wear your ‘I am Sidney Crosby’ t-shirt,” she says with a smile in her voice. “Wear a hat and act natural,” she adds teasingly.
Sid grumbles a bit but being outside doesn’t sound like a bad idea. “Yeah okay,” he says. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Happy to help,” she says with warmth. “It’ll be okay. Just try to exude calm and confidence, and she’ll settle down.”
Sid looks at Olesya warily. She eyes him with similar distrust. “Yeah,” he says. “Love you.”
“You too,” Trina says. “Let me know how it goes.”
Sid swallows and says goodbye and then texts Geno that he’s taking Olesya on a walk so he doesn’t freak out if he wakes up and they’re gone. He finds the new stroller, (which was as expensive as the first car his parents bought him when he turned 16). He packs up a bunch of shit in the diaper bag, including an emergency stuffed animal, a bottle, a change of clothes, blankets, a rattle, a pacifier. Basically anything he can think of, as if they’re going on a several day journey instead of a loop around the neighborhood.
But once they’re outside, it’s such a nice day, less smotheringly hot than it has been the past few days, and Sid feels bold. So he walks toward the business district of his little town. Olesya is still whimpering and trying to make her displeasure known, but the longer the walk goes on, the less upset she seems.
Sid narrates the journey and points things out to her. He feels idiotic because she has no idea what he’s saying. But it makes him feel better to talk to her.
By the time they get to the main street that runs through town, she’s stopped crying and is just making happy noises and periodically flailing her little fists around. Sid decides that means she’s not pissed anymore. An older lady stops him, but instead of asking for an autograph or even seeming to realize who he is, she just wants to make a fuss over Olesya.
“You have fans,” Sid says quietly, after the lady moves along down the street. “We’ll have to teach you how to give an autograph.”
Olesya just burbles some sort of nonsense sound. Sid makes a mental note to look up when she’ll start talking. He thinks that takes awhile. But he has a flash of how fun it will be to hear her first words, teach her to say his name, hear her call Geno “Papa.”
Sid swallows. He assumes he’ll be around for that, but they aren’t really his milestones to look forward to. He mentally steels himself against the pull he feels toward all of that. Better not to get too used to the idea. If everything in Russia settles down soon they won’t need to stay married since Geno won’t need a permanent residency card anymore. Better not to put too much weight into planning for the future, Sid tells himself before ducking inside a frozen yogurt store and indulging in a small cup.
**
Geno gets better. It takes 24 hours and several bottles of Gatorade and a few more cool cloths and some more gross throwing up, but by the middle of the next day, he’s up and around and by the day following that day he’s eating lunch with Sid and looking much more lively.
It’s good timing, because with training camp starting in a couple of days, Sid has meetings with the coaches for most of the afternoon. He feels like Geno’s well enough that he can leave Olesya alone with him for the afternoon without worrying.
But when Sid gets back from his meeting at Consol a couple hours later, he finds Geno covered in vomit, possibly not his own by the look on his face.
He looks like he’s about two seconds away from losing his shit. Olesya is crying, presumably in her room, and Geno is carrying a mess of dirty sheets and towels to the laundry room down the hall.
“What happened?” Sid asks, a little amazed that everything could turn so violently in the hours he’s been gone.
Geno makes a frustrated noise and shrugs. “She just cry and cry and cry. Wake up from nap and start vomit.”
Sid calls the pediatrician Nathalie recommended and has Geno describe the symptoms (as well as the fact that he’s recently been sick too) while Sid starts a load of laundry and goes to pick Olesya up.
“It’s okay, Lesya,” Sid says gently. Her little cries quiet for a moment like she’s waiting to see if he’s going to offer any words of help or explanation for her current distress. “You’re okay.”
Her cries subside a bit, coming at more intermittent bursts. He roots through her drawers and finds a new sleeper to change her into since her other PJs are ruined.
“It’s not fun being sick,” Sid says quietly. “But please don’t throw up on me. Okay?”
He’s learned over the last couple of days that dressing a baby isn’t as easy as it looks. They’re all squirmy, flailing limbs, and Sid struggles to get her feet all the way down to the end of the footy pajama feet.
“There you go,” he says when he finally finishes, prouder than he probably has any right to be considering how long it still takes him to simply clothe her. She smiles at him though, her trusting eyes bright and open, and Sid feels a pang in his chest. He picks her back up and holds her against him.
Sid’s feeling a little more confident with Olesya’s care, but he’s still hesitant to take charge. He’s still not sure of his place, still quick to give Geno control when he’s around. And he’s still afraid he’s going to do something wrong, or hurt her somehow. She gives him very judgey faces when he attempts to do something Geno does effortlessly.
But Geno’s on the phone with the doctor and hopefully changing out of his own puke-covered shirt, so Sid tries to rock her back to sleep.
“Sometime I’ll tell you the story of the first time I ever saw your daddy play hockey,” Sid says in a soothing voice. “It might not be that interesting to you now, but someday maybe you’ll want to hear it.”
He looks up to find Geno standing in the doorway, holding Sid’s phone, puke still covering his shirt. He smiles at Sid but doesn’t say anything.
Sid makes a face and gestures in a way that he hopes indicates, “Get out of here with that gross shirt.”
Geno looks down and rolls his eyes, but pulls the shirt over his head and disappears to hopefully change. Sid continues to murmur soft nonsense about the Penguins and the meeting he just had with the coaching staff about their upcoming training camp.
Geno comes back into the room a few minutes later. “She sleep?” He asks quietly.
“Think so,” Sid says, although he’s not sure. Her breathing has evened out though, so he assumes that’s what happened. “Can you change the crib sheet?”
Geno nods and leaves the room again, grabbing a sheet from the hall closet. When the crib is ready, he takes Olesya from Sid and gently lays her down.
They leave the room quietly and don’t talk until they’re downstairs.
“What’d the doctor say?” Sid asks when they’re both sitting on the couch.
“Probably same stomach bug,” Geno says. “Will watch and take temperature and make sure. Give me things to look for.”
Sid nods. The chances of it being something other than that seemed small, but he could see how trying to deal with a crying kid while covered in vomit could make everything feel more heightened.
“Glad you come home when you did,” Geno admits.
Sid smiles. Being a single parent seems like a lot of work.
“Do you have stuff at your house you want to go get and bring here?” Sid asks because now that they have a crib for Olesya and have her room put together, Sid wonders if there are things Geno might want to bring over to make Sid’s house feel more like home. Once the season starts, their time will be even more limited.
“Yes,” Geno says. “Need more clothes.” He laughs. “Maybe books and other things. Can bring over little bit at a time?”
“Sure,” Sid says. “Whatever you want to do.”
Geno nods.
“If you want to get a load of stuff now, I can stay with her,” Sid offers.
“Might throw up again,” Geno says with a tired smile.
“That’s okay,” Sid says. “I mean, gross, but I can handle it I think.”
Geno gives him a wary look, but also seems like he could use a break. “Okay. I go get some things then.”
Sid smiles and waves him on.
**
Sid dozes on the couch and is awakened by a crying Olesya in the monitor. He runs upstairs and finds her next to another pool of puke. He hums sympathetically and then picks her up. He rubs her back and walks around the room, hoping to quiet her. She continues crying, however, until she vomits again, this time down the back of Sid’s shirt.
He groans. He used to be a “sympathetic vomiter.” If someone near him threw up, he threw up too. That changed after his concussion. He threw up enough for seemingly no reason that it broke him of the urge to vomit just because he heard or saw someone else doing it. For which, at this moment, he is intensely grateful.
It’s still disgusting though.
When Sid finally gets Olesya cleaned up again, he strips his shirt and throws it in the growing laundry pile by the door.
“You need to stop throwing up everywhere, Lesya,” Sid says quietly. “We’re going to run out of sheets.”
He sets her down on a blanket on the floor while he changes the crib, putting the last clean fitted sheet over the mattress. When he’s done he picks her up and carries her around, making soothing sounds and trying to quiet her snuffly cries. He tries to lay her down in her crib when she seems calm, but she immediately starts crying again. He walks around the upstairs of the house with her, talking softly, telling her the rationale behind certain design choices he made in the new house, features he likes.
When he gets to his room, he lays down on his bed, suddenly tired. He rests Olesya against his chest. She doesn’t seem to mind that he’s stopped moving as long as he’s touching her, so he keeps a hand wrapped around her back and rests his eyes.
Sid wakes up some time later to Geno sitting down next to him on the bed. “Hey,” Sid says sleepily. Geno rubs Olesya’s back.
“She okay?” He asks with a quiet smile.
“She threw up again,” Sid admits. “And when I picked her up she threw up all over me. So I changed everything and then we came in here and fell asleep.”
Geno makes a sympathetic noise. “She sleeps now though,” he says approvingly. “You spoil and then we have to sleep with her like this always.”
Sid smiles. He kind of likes the feeling of her warm weight pressed against his chest. Maybe not for an entire night, but it’s a pleasant way to nap. “She didn’t want to be alone,” Sid says defensively. “No one wants to be alone when they feel lousy.”
Geno grins and nods, keeping his hand on Olesya’s back. “Is true. You okay here?”
“Yeah,” he says. “You need help?”
Geno shakes his head. “If you stay with her I bring things in. Yes?” He stands up and squeezes Sid’s shoulder lightly.
“Sure,” Sid says, and closes his eyes again letting Olesya’s warm, even breaths lull him back to sleep.
**
Sid should’ve seen it coming. He wakes up the next morning feeling like he’s been hit by a truck. He’s hot and listless and a little incoherent.
It’s only two days before training camp starts. Sid doesn’t have time to be sick. But Geno takes one look at him when he tries to stagger down to the kitchen and walks him back up to his bed.
“No, Sid,” Geno says with an amused smile. “Need to rest.”
Sid barely puts up a protest, just climbs back into bed obediently. He hears Geno moving around his room, but has no idea what he’s doing. But he does roll Sid over and pulls his shirt off and does something Sid vaguely recognizes with cool washcloths.
He falls back asleep. He has weird dreams that involve being places and not being able to get cool and other weird stuff that doesn’t make sense probably attributed to the fever.
Later he wakes up to Geno sitting next to him on the bed and wiping his forehead with the cloth. “Hi,” Sid says roughly. He’s not used to waking up with someone tending to him, and he feels vaguely embarrassed.
Geno smiles. “Need to take temperature again,” he says.
“We took it before?” Sid asks, because he genuinely doesn’t remember that.
Geno laughs. “Yes,” he pokes the thermometer under Sid’s tongue. “I call Mama Crosby,” he adds while Sid can’t fight back.
Sid makes a noise meant to share his frustration, but it comes out kind of weak and pathetic sounding.
“Just make sure I’m know how Crosby’s need care,” he says and takes the thermometer back when it beeps. “Ah,” he says as if he’s some sort of all-knowing medical professional. “Fever down little bit. Good job, Sid.”
Sid smiles weakly. “I tried really hard,” he jokes.
“Drink Gatorade,” he says. “You vomit?”
Sid doesn’t think so, but he also doesn’t really remember much of the morning. “No?”
Geno huffs out a laugh. “I think no, then. Is good. Stomach hurt?”
It doesn’t feel great. But mostly he just feels feverish and really tired. “Not really.”
“Good,” Geno says and pats his shoulder. “Keep drink Gatorade anyway. I bring soup in little bit.”
“Where’s Olesya?” Sid asks after a few slow swallows of Gatorade.
“Nap,” Geno says. “She miss.”
“Me?”
Geno rolls his eyes. “Yes,” he says like Sid is slow. “She look around all morning. Give me look like I make mistake and now you leave.”
Sid makes a face. “Right,” he says, because he can’t imagine that’s true. But it makes him stupidly pleased anyway. “She liked our walk down to the frozen yogurt place when you were sick.”
Geno smiles. “Maybe I take later,” he says and squeezes Sid’s leg. “Need to sleep more now.”
Sid groans and nods. “‘kay.”
“I come check soon,” Geno reassures him on his way out the door.
Sid falls back asleep very soon after.
**
Geno’s back in his room an undetermined amount of time later. He takes Sid’s temperature again, and his fever has reduced significantly. Sid feels less confused, and is thankful his version of the sickness never escalated the way it did for Geno and Olesya.
“You feel better?” Geno asks hopefully after he places the thermometer by the bed.
Sid nods. “Yeah. Quite a bit.”
“Good,” Geno says and hands Sid another bottle of Gatorade. “Is magic.”
Sid smiles. “Gatorade? I don’t even think it’s made of natural ingredients.”
“Yes, but you better. I’m better. So.”
“Is Olesya asleep?”
Geno nods. “Bath, bottle, bed.”
“It’s already that late?” Sid asks and sits up a little. The light has definitely changed outside. Sid’s just surprised he slept for that much of the day.
“Yes. You sleep long time,” Geno says and grabs the remote off Sid’s night table. “We watch TV?”
“Yeah sure,” he says and scoots over so Geno can sit next to him on the bed.
They watch Wheel of Fortune and Family Guy. They don’t really say much, but it’s kind of nice just to have Geno there. Unlike most of the times Sid’s been sick, or the months he was out with his concussion, he has someone to keep him company.
Sid dozes more and wakes up as Geno’s turning off the TV and climbing out of bed. “Hmph?” He says nonsensically.
Geno smiles. “Need to sleep,” he says and hands Sid a t-shirt. “Fever gone. Can wear clothes.”
Sid takes the shirt and puts it on. “Thanks.”
Geno pauses next to the bed. “Tomorrow we eat real food,” he says and rubs his fingers down Sid’s arm. “No more lazy.”
Sid scoffs but smiles at Geno. “Thanks, G,” he says as Geno flips off the light.
“Welcome, Sid,” Geno says. “Спокойной ночи.”
“Good night,” Sid says and nestles into his pillow.
**
It takes them a week into the pre-season to find a nanny. They muddle through before that, relying on Nathalie and various teammates’ wives to watch Olesya while they’re at training camp.
Sid vows that he’s going to let Geno choose the nanny and not interfere. But he ends up having opinions. Geno is so trusting. If he likes someone and thinks they’re nice he wants to give them a chance. Not because he’s cavalier with Olesya’s safety or care, but because he genuinely believes in people and doesn’t have as much inherent skepticism as Sid does.
Geno interviews half a dozen nannies with Sid insisting he’s not participating but still hovering in the background before Geno forces him to admit he has opinions and just to sit down and be the “captain of nanny hire”.
Out of the dozen or so they interview, only three make it to the background check stage. And only two of those make it out of that stage and into the “meeting Olesya” stage.
They still haven’t picked someone when the preseason games start. Sid’s mom ends up coming down from Nova Scotia to stay with Olesya so they (Sid) won’t feel pressured to choose before they’re (Sid’s) ready.
But she can only stay for a little while (both out of fairness to her and because Sid doesn’t want to find himself living with his mother indefinitely).
They finally choose Margaret, a woman in her late 50s, recently widowed, her own kids off at college. Her husband was Russian, so she speaks the language fairly well (although with an accent, Geno keeps pointing out to Sid. Sid counters that Geno speaks English with a fairly significant accent and they all still let him do his job. He rolls his eyes and says a bunch of ugly-sounding things in Russian but relents), and she isn’t put off by the irregular schedule.
She doesn’t want to live with them. She’s willing to stay at the house while they travel, but when they’re home, she wants to be able to go to her own place in the evening. Sid’s more than fine with that. He has a hard time wrapping his head around sharing his living space full time with a virtual stranger. Hanging around in his underwear on a day off seems awkward if someone random is there too.
By their next away game, Margaret has been with them for four days, has learned Geno’s routine for Olesya, and most importantly seems to have proven herself to Geno and is on her way to earning Sid’s trust.
Olesya seems to like her. Margaret sings her soft songs in Russian and, Sid is happy to note, talks lovingly to her as she performs all the mundane tasks involved in taking care of a baby.
Sid finds himself narrating everything he does with Olesya. Even if she can’t understand him, it feels polite somehow to inform her he’s going to change her diaper and entertain her with stories or share his thoughts with her while he’s doing it. Otherwise it just seems like everything is perfunctory. And that seems like a missed opportunity. He’s pleased to see that Margaret does that too, so Sid’s not totally crazy, no matter how many funny looks Geno gives him when he catches Sid doing it.
**
One of the biggest adjustments Sid has to make about their marriage is that they share a room on the road. It would look weird not to. It would also be weird to ask for double beds, so they end up with a King-sized bed and abundant chirping from their teammates.
They’re both tense the first away game after Margaret starts working. After they get back from supper things are quiet and a little uncomfortable. Sid isn’t sure if that reflects being thrust into close proximity with each other, or if it’s being nervous about being away from Olesya, or simply the expected jitters of a new season.
He notices Geno checking his phone a lot right before bed.
“You should call her,” Sid suggests.
Geno looks at him sheepishly. “She text earlier. Picture of Olesyushka and say she fall asleep.”
“Well that’s good,” Sid says reassuringly.
Geno chews his lip. “Yes. Just worry,” he admits.
“I think it’s understandable,” Sid says and puts his book down on the bedside table. “You weren’t this nervous when my mom was there though.”
“Is different,” Geno says, voice a little tight. “Is family.”
Sid’s stomach twists, and he makes an involuntary noise. “Yeah,” he says to cover it up. “Makes sense.”
“You think I’m call?” Geno asks after a couple of beats.
Sid smiles. “Yes,” he says emphatically. “I think she’ll understand. And if she doesn’t, then maybe she shouldn’t work for us.”
Geno nods and shoots Sid a grateful look. He calls Margaret. He asks how their day went and listens to her give a run down of Olesya’s activities. Sid can’t hear everything she’s saying, but just the thoroughness with which she’s answering all of Geno’s questions and indulging him by giving him more information than he probably needs reassures Sid they picked the right person for the job.
When Geno hangs up he flops back against his pillow and doesn’t say anything. They watch TV in silence for awhile. Sid goes through his nightly routine and tries not to bug Geno. It’s weird sharing physical space with someone again. It’s been awhile since Sid had a road roommate. Even before the new CBA he managed to have his own room most of the time. Geno is easy to be around, but it’s still a change, and it usually takes Sid awhile to adapt to change.
The first time they got on the plane this season, everyone assumed Sid would sit with Geno. But Sid always sits by Flower. He hadn’t even thought twice about it. He just collapsed in his usual seat, and Geno took the seat behind him.
Duper laughed and patted Sid’s shoulder as he passed. “Keep it fresh, Sidney.”
Sid looked up and realized everyone was looking at him with a sort of befuddled expression. “Huh?”
“Don’t listen to them,” Flower said. “We sit together because it’s lucky. You and Geno are together the rest of the time. He can deal.”
Sid looked over his seat at Geno and gave him a sheepish look. “Sorry, G.” He wasn’t sure if he’d somehow broken a rule of married people. He didn’t want Geno to feel bad.
Geno grinned. “Is fine, Sid. Some things can stay the same.” He reached forward and grabbed Sid’s neck and rubbed his thumb back and forth quickly.
Sid swallowed. “Okay.”
“Just no, like, mile high club in the lavatory or anything,” Beau said as he walked by.
Sid felt his face go hot and everyone else laughed and whistled. Geno grinned and squeezed Sid’s neck again. Sid looked down at his phone and pretended to be very interested in an email from his agent.
The point is, Sid has a certain way he does things. And there have been a lot of changes over the past few weeks. He’s been surprised at how little he’s minded most of them. But somehow sharing a room and a bed on the road feels like one of the biggest and most significant so far.
They turn off the light, and Geno turns toward him in bed.
“Margaret say Olesya happy today,” Geno says quietly.
“That’s good,” Sid says sincerely. “Does that help you worry less?”
Geno doesn’t say anything for a few beats. “Not worry she safe. Worry she forget or not need me. Only have her for little bit. Afraid she think I leave her.”
Sid swallows and reaches out awkwardly and touches Geno’s side. “G...” he says and then doesn’t know what else to say. Sid gets why Geno’s worried. It certainly isn’t ideal to leave your kid for a couple of days in a row every week, especially not when you’re all they’ve got. “She knows you’re coming back,” he says feebly. But honestly, how could she? She’s a baby. Do babies understand that sort of stuff? Sid’s not sure when object permanence develops but business travel seems like a fairly complex topic for a four month old to grasp.
Geno makes a disbelieving sound but doesn’t say anything else.
“I mean,” Sid tries again, “she may not totally get it. But you love her, G. You’re great with her. You’re doing everything you can. Your job requires you to travel a lot. That’s-- that’s just how it goes. But you hired a good nanny, who even sings to her in Russian. So. I think it’s going to be okay.”
Sid’s eyes are better adjusted to the dark now, and he can see Geno nod slightly and then push his face into his pillow a little.
“But I think it’s understandable that you’re worried,” Sid says and scoots a little closer. Geno’s kind of a hugger, which leads Sid to believe that being touched is something that makes him feel better instead of freaking him out. So Sid places his hand on Geno’s back and rubs it back and forth a little. “You don’t have to pretend you aren’t worried around me,” he adds because that feels important too. “I worry about her too.”
Geno hooks his foot over top of Sid’s. “Best,” he mumbles into his pillow.
Sid smiles and continues to rub Geno’s back gently until his breath evens out, and he seems to fall asleep.
**
It goes on like that for the first month of the season. The Penguins get off to a good start. They win nine of their first 12 games, Sid racking up 14 points and Geno 12. They adapt to their routine. Leaving Olesya with Margaret for away games still isn’t ideal, but Geno seems far more confident in Olesya’s ability to rally from his absence. Geno’s also grown fond of Margaret, who knows many Russian recipes and starts filling their refrigerator with Geno’s favorite dishes.
Sid overhears her on the phone one day when they get home from practice, speaking in rapid Russian to someone. She smiles when she sees Sid and hangs up not long after.
“That was Zhenya’s mother,” Margaret says. “I called her for some recipes.”
Sid smiles and pours himself a glass of water. “You don’t have to do that,” he says automatically. Because they didn’t hire her to cook or clean for them. They have a housekeeper who comes once a week to clean and do whatever laundry there is to be done at that point. Margaret is only supposed to be caring for Olesya.
“I know,” she says with a smile. “But his mother calls me a lot to ask for updates on Olesya. And I know how much he misses home. I thought it could be a nice way to bring Russia to him since he might not be able to go home for awhile.”
Sid swallows and feels a pang in his stomach. “Yeah.” He’s still not sure what to say about that situation to Geno. They mostly just don’t talk about it at all. Sid inquires after Geno’s parents sometimes, and has fumbled through conversation with them a few times when Geno’s had them on Skype or FaceTime with Olesya. But he hates the look on Geno’s face when he talks about his family or has to deal with something related to Russia. And as much of a cop out as it is, Sid would rather not bring the topic up when it only seems to make Geno sad.
“That’s really nice of you,” Sid says when he realizes he’s just standing awkwardly in the kitchen staring at Margaret and probably making her feel like he disapproves. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate that.”
She smiles warmly. “I’m sure no one’s cooking will measure up to his Mama’s. That’s how it goes,” she says with understanding. “But I’ll try once in awhile.”
Geno comes into the kitchen with Olesya in his arms and grins at both of them. Sid grabs him a Gatorade out of the refrigerator and unscrews the cap and hands it to him.
Margaret laughs and shakes her head fondly. “Are you here for the rest of the night then?” She asks, double checking as she gathers up her things. She’d asked for the night off after looking at their schedule. Her kids are in town for the weekend, so she’s eager to limit her time at work as much as she can.
“Yep,” Sid says and waves her on. “We’ve got it. Thank you.”
“Yes, Margie,” Geno says and gives her a side hug, Olesya gurgling happy noises as her face scrunches into Margaret’s neck. “Best.”
She laughs and gives Sid a look that he recognizes because he’s sure it’s what his face looks like around Geno and his kid pretty much constantly.
“We don’t have practice tomorrow either,” Sid says. “So you can take the day with your kids if you want.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Are you sure? That would be great,” she says meaningfully.
“Yep,” Sid says smoothly. “No problem at all.” He didn’t check with Geno but he can’t imagine how he would object. And if he has something planned, Sid can always watch Olesya.
She leaves, and Geno gives him a little smirk. “You like.”
Sid shrugs. “She’s good with Olesya. We gotta keep her happy.”
Geno nods. “She make borscht last week. Learn Russian song Mama sing me when little. She best.”
Sid smiles and flops down on the couch. They haven’t discussed the weekend at all. They don’t have a game again until Sunday night, and have an unprecedented day off the next day. So far their days have followed a predictable pattern of practice, training, care for the baby, games, sleeping. Rinse and repeat. They haven’t had time to do much else, and Sid’s been fine with that. But it’s meant he also hasn’t really stopped to ask Geno if there’s something he wants to be doing in his spare time that he’s not.
“What’s happening tonight?” Sid asks eventually.
Geno looks up from his spot on the floor. His current project is getting Olesya to roll over and then back again. So far she’s managed to roll herself from her stomach to her back (or vice versa) but not reverse the process. He’s been attempting to coach her through the milestone the last couple of days.
“Is Halloween,” Geno reminds him.
“Oh shit,” Sid says and sits up. “Are we, like, giving out candy or something?” He winces at the thought of opening the gate and letting the neighbors onto his property and dealing with people knocking on his door all night.
Geno rolls his eyes. “We take Olesyushka trick-or-treat,” he says as if they’ve discussed this dozens of times, when Sid is pretty positive Geno’s never mentioned it.
“Oh yeah?” He asks. “Will she-- is she-- old enough?”
Geno laughs. “She like because we like. I buy princess dress. She be girl from Frozen.”
Sid smiles and huffs. “Please don’t sing the song. God.” Geno has forced Sid into watching that movie no less than five times since his arrival in Sid’s house. He claims it’s for Olesya. But she doesn’t seem all that interested in it. And the last couple of times they’ve watched it she hasn’t even been in the room.
Geno grins and sticks his tongue between his teeth. “You like.”
“I liked it the first time maybe,” Sid admits. “But that song haunts my dreams.”
Geno laughs and gives Sid a long-suffering face. “No song. But dress for Olesyushka. Prettiest.”
“And we’re just going to, like, take her up to strangers’ doors and stuff?” Sid asks, trying to sound casual and nonchalant but really he can’t think of anything he’d hate more.
Geno rolls his eyes. “We go to Lemieux’s. Nathalie say to come. We stop at Miller’s and Johnson’s too.”
Sid narrows his eyes.
“Miller and Johnson are neighbor Sid,” Geno says with a forced level of patience. “Seriously not know?”
Sid shrugs and glosses over the fact that no, he doesn’t know his neighbors. But it doesn’t surprise him that Geno does.
“Then we drive to Duper and Kuni,” Geno says, like he’s had this all thought out for days. “She probably be tired by then. We come home. You sit upstairs like sad old man, and I pass out candy to kids.”
Sid gives him a look. “I’m not a sad old man,” he mumbles. “I just don’t like people I don’t know in my space.”
Geno smiles. “I know this. Is why I do candy. You give Olesyushka bath.”
“Yeah okay,” Sid says sheepishly.
“Kids not come inside, Sid,” Geno says a little more gently. “Is okay to have gate open one day a year.” He picks Olesya up off the floor and brings her to the couch. He balances her on his lap facing Sid. “See face? She wear Frozen dress, and we take pictures for Mamas and Taylor.”
Sid sighs. “Yes, yes. Okay.”
“Good,” Geno says and pats his leg. “You can wear bag on head so no one knows Sidney Crosby is trick or treat.”
Sid rolls his eyes. “I’m not that bad.”
Geno leans closer and nudges him with his shoulder to show he’s joking. “Is good,” he says gently. “Yes?”
“Yeah,” Sid says and focuses on Olesya’s happy face as she stuffs her fist inside her mouth.
**
It turns out that Olesya dressed up as the Disney Frozen princess is pretty freaking cute. She doesn’t have very much hair yet, but Geno has some sort of elaborate headband that Sid isn’t ashamed to admit he previously assumed was a belt. He’s glad he’s never in charge of accessorizing the baby.
They take approximately 7000 pictures of her. They FaceTime Geno’s mom and dad even though it’s the middle of the night in Russia. Sid texts his mom and Taylor pictures of Geno and Olesya.
Neither he nor Geno are dressed up. Geno was joking about the bag over Sid’s head, but he apparently bought masks for them. One Olaf the snowman from Frozen and the other is the reindeer. They put them on, but Olesya takes one look at them and bursts into tragic, dramatic tears.
She cries until they both remove the masks, but then starts up all over again when she sees the masks sitting on the table on their way out the door. So they have to hide the masks in the deep recesses of the hall closet. And even then she eyes the door suspiciously.
Geno seems disappointed not to be able to participate in the theme of Olesya’s costume. Sid’s disappointed not to be able to hide behind his reindeer mask. But he gets them each a nondescript hat and ignores Geno’s massive eye roll as Sid pulls the bill down over his eyes.
It’s still light out. Sid has never participated in Pittsburgh’s trick-or-treat night. But apparently it gets started very early in the evening. That makes sense for the little kids, Sid supposes. But it somehow makes everything seem much less spooky and Halloweeny.
Geno walks up to a house a few doors down from Sid’s with authority. He knocks and is greeted with warm enthusiasm by the older lady who answers. She fusses over Olesya and nods at Sid, who is hanging back a little on the front porch. She seems to know their names and asks about Margaret and Margaret’s kids and asks after Geno’s mom. So apparently somewhere in the past month Geno has made a new best friend and her name is Nancy Miller and she lives on Sid’s street.
She drops several pieces of candy into Olesya’s pumpkin-shaped bucket and waves at them again as more kids wait to take their place at the door. Geno smirks at Sid as they walk down the front walk again and head farther down the block and on their way to the Lemieux’s.
“Is nice,” Geno says gently. “She see Margaret on walks with Olesyushka every day. I take one time, and she recognize Olesyushka and ask questions. She ask us in, and we have tea with her. Very nice.” He squeezes Sid’s neck and smiles at him. “Good people in neighborhood,” he adds.
Sid knows that’s probably true. Mario and Nathalie have lived in this area forever, and one of the reasons they stuck around even after Mario retired was how much they liked Pittsburgh and particularly how much they liked all the friends they’d made in the corner of town they call home.
It’s hard for Sid to remember sometimes that not everyone is looking to trip him up somehow. He was burned so many times by kids in high school who acted friendly just to set him up for some big joke later, or who told the local paper stories about him. He’s had girls he’s dated put stories up on the internet, talk about really private and personal things, describe his house, talk about some of his habits, the size of his dick, the way he likes his eggs. Things that don’t feel like they’re anybody’s business.
He’s so used to keeping himself shut off completely from people that he can admit he probably misses the good people too. Geno is the opposite. And it’s how he ends up with acquaintances and random relatives of friends living in his house for months on end. It’s how he posts bail for guys he hung out with once at a bar or “loans” money for car repair to a guy he sees at the gym a couple of times a month.
Sid thinks that’s not the best way to be either. Geno’s opening himself up to people who might take advantage of him. Sid wishes he’d be more careful sometimes.
But Sid can also admit that somewhere between the way Sid and Geno are there lies a point of moderation that might not be a bad thing to strive for.
By the time they make it to the Johnson’s house, Sid makes more of an effort, shaking the husband’s hand and thanking the wife for the candy. Geno smiles at him approvingly as they approach the Lemieux’s.
Mario and Nathalie are sitting out on the front stoop of their house, the big gate open, neighborhood kids streaming onto the property in a long line. Sid remembers them talking about Halloween when he lived with them, but he was always off on a road trip or at a friend’s house on the night of the event.
They hand out full candy bars. Mario asks about each kid’s costume and takes pictures with the bold ones who ask. No one seems to notice Sid and Geno, probably because they’re all so focused on their turn with Mario and Nathalie.
When they get up to the front of the line, Nathalie hugs each of them and makes a big fuss over Olesya.
“Look at her! Oh she’s beautiful,” she says and snaps a quick photo. She captures all three of them in one of the shots. “I’m sending this to Trina, Sid,” she says as she taps out a text.
Sid nods and tries to ignore the blush he feels creeping up his neck.
There’s still a line of kids waiting behind them, so they can’t take up too much time. But he’s glad they came. He feels a weird sort of pride at how excited Mario and Nathalie are about Olesya, how much they compliment her. It’s stupid maybe. It has nothing to do with Sid, really. But he loves and appreciates them, and he likes when they approve of the things that are important to him.
They walk back to the house to get the car so they can drive to Duper and Kuni’s neighborhood. They’re quiet for the first block, broken only by Geno pointing out cute costumes and saying soft things to Olesya about them in Russian.
“I can’t believe they do that every year,” Sid finally says as they get closer to their house.
Geno nods. “Mario great man,” he says approvingly. “Does nice things for kids.”
“It just seems like such a big risk,” Sid says finally. He can’t get his brain to reconcile the need for privacy and his admiration over making kids and their happiness a priority. He likes the idea of what Mario and Nathalie are trying to do. But letting the whole town in to gawk and stare and take pictures and possibly take advantage somehow. It makes Sid uncomfortable.
Geno wraps his arm around Sid’s shoulders. “Is okay to trust sometimes,” he says carefully. “Lots of bad people in world. But many more good ones. Maybe important to live for good ones and worry less about bad.”
Sid turns that over in his head a few times and finds himself leaning into Geno’s grip as he does so. “Those kids think Mario’s a superhero,” he says finally. It’s how he felt when he was young and how he continues to feel about Mario even as a grownup.
Geno smiles. “He is to them. We are too. Yes? Not the same of course. We not Lemieux. But kids like us, think we great. Is fun to make happy, yes?” He squeezes Sid’s shoulder and pulls him closer.
Sid nods. He doesn’t know what to say. He knows Geno isn’t trying to manipulate him, really. It’s just such a different way of thinking. He needs some time to mull it over.
“Is okay if not want to do it, Sid,” he says as they open the gate and head for the garage. “Is your house.”
Sid makes a frustrated noise. “No,” he says. Because he hates that Geno still thinks of himself as a guest. “It’s your house too. C’mon Geno.” It feels important to Sid that Geno feels that way.
Geno swallows and busies himself buckling Olesya into her carseat. “Still not do if make you uncomfortable,” he says finally.
Sid shakes his head. “No. It’s okay. I might not, you know-- I may stay upstairs or whatever. But-- but I’m okay with it. It’s good.”
Geno nods once and bites back a smile as they drive to Duper and Kuni’s and the next group of Olesya’s fans.
**
When they get back to the house later, Geno leaves the gate open and turns on the porch light and sets a jack-o-lantern on the porch. He shoos Sid away when he stands awkwardly trying to think of what to say and how to make sure he’s not being a complete hermit about this.
“Go, go,” Geno says and pushes him toward the stairs. “Olesyushka needs bath and bed. You do.”
Sid shakes his head. “Please don’t adopt any children,” he warns as he starts up the steps. He gives a conspiratorial look to Olesya. Like she should have skin in the game of keeping another kid from entering their lives.
Geno scoffs and says something loud and disapproving sounding in Russian.
Sid smiles and presses his forehead to Olesya’s. “You can tell me what he said when we get upstairs.”
Geno makes another Russian remark, and Sid laughs.
**
Sid likes putting Olesya to bed. He hasn’t done it very many times. But he likes how her eyes droop while she drinks her last bottle of the day. He likes how she smells clean from her bath and how she’s all warm and soft in her sleeper. He likes how he can hold her close and tell her things while she nods off.
It’s probably good he doesn’t do it very often, because every time he does his heart hurts a little bit. The thought of how much he already cares about her--and it’s only been a few weeks--is almost too much for Sid to handle. Because immediately after realizing how much she matters he reminds himself this could end at any time. And then he’ll just be a favorite uncle, someone she sees a couple of times a month. Someone who babysits her a couple of times a season so Geno can go out on dates.
He tries to push all of that out of his head when he’s holding her. Because it makes him tense, and he’s pretty sure she can feel that. When her eyes finally close and her mouth is slack with sleep, Sid lets himself stroke her cheek and think about how much he’d like to be able to do this indefinitely.
It’s hard to keep perspective about it when she’s pressed tightly against his chest, her even breaths hot against his shirt. So yeah. It’s probably a good thing Geno usually puts her to bed.
**
When Sid finally sets Olesya down in her crib, he peeks down the stairs and sees Geno closing the front door with a smile on his face.
“How’s it going?” Sid asks as he walks down the last few steps.
Geno gives him a surprised look. “Is good.”
“A lot of kids?” He hadn’t heard the doorbell ringing very many times.
“Yes,” Geno says. “I sit on porch for awhile. But fewer kids now.”
They hear scuffling around on the other side of the door and Geno opens it before they can ring the bell. Sid steps to the side so he’s out of the line of sight.
“TRICK OR TREAT!”
He can see Geno’s face, sees the broad smile that spreads across his face.
“Are you Sidney Crosby?” A tiny voice asks him.
Geno laughs. “No,” he says.
“Geno?” Another little voice asks.
Geno nods. “Yes. You watch hockey?”
There’s a chorus of assent.
“Is this Sidney Crosby’s house?” The first little voice says instantly. “My dad said. My dad said this was Sidney Crosby’s house.”
Geno laughs. “Well, I live here also. Can be Geno Malkin house?”
The kids must nod because Geno’s smile grows.
“Everyone want candy?”
There are loud yeses. Geno compliments their costumes and asks a couple of shy kids who they are dressed up as. He signs candy buckets and then they’re gone again.
Sid swallows and then smiles at him.
“Not so bad,” Geno says hopefully. “Make them happy little bit.”
Sid nods. “How long does it go?”
Geno looks at his watch. “Paper say til 9. But not sure.”
That’s in five minutes. “We’ll close the gate at 9 maybe?”
Geno nods. “Yes,” he says and somehow doesn’t mock Sid for being freaked out about it.
They hear more kids on the other side of the door. Geno starts to open it and looks at Sid to give him a chance to step out of sight again. But Sid shrugs and motions for Geno to open the door.
“TRICK OR TREAT!”
There’s a little group on the porch of five or six kids, their parents standing a few feet back and watching closely.
Geno smiles big at them. “Look at costumes!” He says approvingly. “I like Frozen too,” he says to the kid dressed up like Olaf.
The kid beams at him. There’s no other word for it. Geno crouches down and tugs at his carrot nose. “Is good costume,” he says quietly, and the kid nods.
“I’m a crayon!” A little girl in a long blue tube with a blue cone on her head says.
Geno grins. “Blue favorite color?”
She nods and flips her hair over her shoulder.
“Is that Sidney Crosby?” A kid whispers loudly at Geno. It occurs to Sid that this must be a question he was asked in various forms all evening. It must’ve gotten old.
“Hi,” Sid says hesitantly stepping forward a little. “Are you guys having fun?” He glances up at the parents. They seem surprised to see him.
The kids all nod and stare up at him solemnly. He glances at Geno because he’s the one that’s been doing this all night.
Geno passes out the candy to each kid and then signs the things the kids hold up for him to sign.
“Can he sign too?” The little boy in the Thomas the Tank Engine costume asks.
Sid smiles and crouches down so he’s at eye level. “Sure buddy,” he says.
The parents ask them if they’ll take a picture with the kids, and they agree.
“Thanks, guys,” one of the dads says. “You made their night.”
Geno grins. “Candy make night, I think,” he jokes and ruffles the hair of one of the little boys as they scamper off the porch and down to their parents.
They close the door, and Geno gives Sid an appraising look.
“Not so bad I guess,” Sid says since he knows Geno’s about to say ‘I told you so’ or something equally smug. “But can we close the gate now?” It’s a little after 9:00, and Sid doesn’t want this to go on indefinitely.
Geno laughs and throws his arm around Sid’s shoulder and gives him a crushing side hug. “Yes,” he says with a smirk. He looks out into the driveway again to make sure no one is approaching the house and then punches in the code on the panel near the door and the gate closes slowly.
Sid smiles and then goes into the TV room, choosing not to embrace his more obsessive tendencies and ask if Geno will go around the yard and make sure no one is hiding in the bushes or anything. He realizes that’s probably crossing the line between sanity and obsession.
Geno grabs them each a beer and then sits down next to Sid on the couch.
“Good day,” Geno says after they’ve turned on the TV and watched a few minutes of the Kings/Avalanche game.
“Yeah?” Sid asks, turning to Geno.
He swallows and waves his hand around. “Yes. Olesyushka have fun I think.”
Sid smiles. He’s not sure she’s old enough to enjoy trick-or-treating. But it was fun to do that with her. “Yeah. She told me when I was putting her to bed that I could have her candy.”
Geno laughs. “Is her candy.”
Sid makes a face. “She told me, G. We had a moment.”
Geno grins and changes the channel during intermission. “Very generous. Best.”
Sid pulls her pumpkin bucket off the coffee table and sorts through her candy haul. A benefit of living in a fancy part of town is apparently that everyone gives out serious candy. “Did we give out these huge candy bars? Or did we do the little tiny ones?”
Geno grins. “We give Skittles, peanut butter cups, Milky Way. Big. I think you see.”
Sid had been too busy being concerned about all the people staring into his house to notice the candy. He shrugs and pulls out a bag of M&Ms from Olesya’s stash.
“We have candy,” Geno says with a smirk. “Why you steal hers?”
“Seriously? She’s not going to eat it,” Sid says. “She shouldn’t eat it. Right?” Suddenly he’s not certain.
“No,” Geno says. “But we try solid foods soon, doctor say.”
“Really?” Sid asks, surprised.
Geno shrugs. “She almost 6 months.”
That hits Sid hard in the gut. “Really? Shit.”
“I know,” Geno says and sounds mournful.
“What do you feed her the first time?” Sid asks. Something smooshy, he realizes. Not like a filet and baked potato. But he’s not sure if it’s always squash or something that really doesn’t represent food well for the first time.
“Doctor say just start with special cereal. Look like oatmeal.”
Sid nods. He hopes he’s around when Geno feeds her for the first time. It seems like something he’d want to see and maybe take pictures of.
After the game ends they watch a movie and each drink another beer. Sid starts listing to the side halfway through, and gives up trying not to lean on Geno. It’s too much work to reposition, and Geno’s warm.
He wakes up later to the credits rolling, Geno’s arm wrapped around his shoulders, Sid’s head resting on Geno’s side. He seems to be asleep too, so Sid pokes him gently, and he wakes with a start.
He mumbles something in Russian and then looks around. “Is bed time?”
Sid smiles and sits up slowly. “I think so,” he says. “I have no idea what that movie was about.”
Geno smiles sleepily and nods. Sid throws their beer bottles in recycling and then pulls Geno up off the couch. He stumbles into Sid a little and corrects himself by hugging Sid.
“Hair smell good,” Geno murmurs into Sid’s head.
He laughs and pokes Geno in the stomach.
“Like stolen candy,” Geno jokes, still not letting go.
Sid smiles. “Stolen candy is the best candy,” he says and then pulls away.
“I’m tell Olesyushka,” Geno warns as they walk up the stairs. “She not trust you now.”
“Whatever,” Sid says as they reach his bedroom door. “You’re the one responsible for the masks. It’s going to take a long time for her to forgive you for that, I think,” he adds solemnly. “We talked about it during her bath.”
Geno rolls his eyes. “Спокойной ночи, Sid.”
“Night, Geno.”
**
The next morning Sid stumbles down the stairs to find Geno packing up the diaper bag. “Are you going somewhere?” He asks trying to remember if there’s somewhere they’re supposed to be.
Geno looks up at him and smiles. “Max have brunch at my old house. Russians there for party. Olesyushka and I go.”
Sid nods. “Oh, okay,” he says still a little out of it and bleary eyed.
“We be back later,” Geno says and bumps his fist as he goes by. Olesya grins at him and goes through her favorite noises like she’s trying to tell Sid something. “House be quiet for the day,” he adds and smiles at Sid.
Sid wants to say that he doesn’t like it when the house is quiet, not really. But he doesn’t want Geno to feel bad about going to hang out with his friends.
“I can watch her,” Sid says. “I mean, if you’d rather hang out with your friends. Have a little break.”
Geno’s face does something funny Sid doesn’t recognize. “Is okay. Wives of friends there. Want to see Olesyushka. Be mad if I leave. Plus, I want to show her house.”
Sid swallows. Of course he wants that. That’s where they’ll live once they’ve fulfilled their two years of marriage, and Geno has his permanent resident card. “Oh okay.”
Sid pours himself a cup of coffee and busies himself with the newspaper spread out on the counter. He looks up again when Geno doesn’t say anything and finds him giving Sid another look he doesn’t know how to read.
“Have good day,” Geno says finally.
Sid gives a little wave and takes his coffee and the paper over to the couch. Maybe it will be nice to have the house to himself for awhile.
**
Sid goes on a long run, pretends to be interested in a football game, alphabetizes his Blu-Rays and Xbox games. He makes a trip to the mall and buys Olesya another stuffed animal and this cute dress he finds in Baby Gap. That gives him an idea, so he stops by the Penguins store and buys her a little Crosby jersey and a bunch of other 87-branded stuff. He stops at Whole Foods and stocks up on all of his protein shake ingredients and buys expensive unnecessary snacks.
It’s nice to be able to go wherever he wants and do whatever he wants for the first couple of hours. But then he just starts wondering what he did with his off days before Geno and Olesya moved in. Was he this bored all the time?
It’s probably one of the reasons he’s always worked out so obsessively. It gives his day some purpose, gives him something to do. His route home takes him right by Geno’s house. It’s getting close to the end of the day, so before he can think better of it, he stops in to see if Geno might want to go get supper somewhere. Or something. Maybe he can say hi to Max. Whatever.
But there aren’t any cars in the driveway. Sid knocks on the door assuming Geno has already left, but is surprised when he answers the door.
“Sid,” Geno says, surprised. He steps aside so Sid can come in.
Olesya’s on the floor in the living room on a blanket. She can sit up a little on her own now, and Geno has her propped up against some pillows with one of her toys sitting in front of her. The TV is tuned to a Russian drama Geno likes. There’s a plate of food and a Gatorade on side table next to Geno’s spot on the couch.
Sid looks back at Geno and swallows. “Oh,” he says, and then feels really stupid.
“Sid--”
“No, hey,” Sid says and grabs the back of his neck. “I was just on my way back from the mall and thought I’d see if you wanted to go grab dinner. But that’s cool.” He smiles at Geno and looks around the house wondering how often Geno comes over here and hangs out on his own.
“Sid--” Geno says again, voice tight.
“No, it’s cool,” Sid says, suddenly in a big hurry to get out of there. “I have groceries in my car, so I should get back and put them away.”
Geno nods. “Okay. Be back soon.”
Sid gives another stupid wave and then cringes at himself.
It’s not weird that Geno wants to hang out on his own sometimes, he tells himself as he drives back to his house. Geno’s not used to being around Sid this much, and he probably needs a little time on his own to decompress and be... extra Russian or whatever. Watch his Russian television, hang out with his friends, who weren’t there, but whatever. The point being, Geno doesn’t owe Sid explanations about how he spends his time.
But it still feels kind of shitty somehow. Like maybe he’s been missing signs that Geno is miserable and super unhappy.
They’d had a nice time the night before, though. Or so Sid thought. They’d even passed out candy. They’d fallen asleep watching a movie together afterward. Geno seemed like he had a good time. But Sid is admittedly not always great at reading a room.
He unloads the groceries when he gets home, brings in the bags he got at the mall, feeling ridiculous as he pulls the baby-sized Crosby gear out of its bag. Geno’s not going to want Olesya to wear Crosby stuff anyway. That was dumb. Maybe he can send it up to his mom in Nova Scotia and she can give it to his cousin’s new baby or something.
Sid tries to sit and read a book after that, but the house is so quiet, and Sid feels like he’s crawling out of his skin. He suddenly doesn’t want to be there anymore.
He decides to go get food on his own. He goes to a place he likes not far from his house. It’s quiet and dark, so people don’t usually bother him. It’s relaxing, Sid tells himself. The food is good, and it’s something he used to do sometimes when he had a night off. Before.
When he gets back to the house, Geno is just coming out of Olesya’s room.
“She asleep?” Sid asks.
Geno smiles. “Yes.”
Sid nods. “That’s good,” he says and suddenly can’t think of anything to say to Geno. “I’m gonna take a shower,” he says and leaves Geno standing in the hall.
**
When he gets out of the shower Geno is sitting on his bed and looking in the Baby Gap bag and has the Crosby jersey laid out next to him on the bed. He looks up at Sid when he walks into the room, towel wrapped around his waist.
“You buy for Olesya?” Geno asks and then chews his lip.
Sid thinks briefly (and stupidly) of saying it’s for someone else or something. But Sid doesn’t really hang out with many babies, so it seems like a lie he’ll easily get caught in. “Yeah,” Sid says as he goes into his closet for his PJs. “Saw the dress in the window when I went by Baby Gap. Thought it was cute. And the other stuff--” he blushes and is grateful Geno can’t see. “Was just, you know, a joke.” He pulls his t-shirt on and steps into his ratty sweats.
Geno’s fingering the collar of the jersey when Sid emerges from the closet. “Party real,” he says and looks up at Sid. “Not make up.”
Sid shrugs. “It’s cool, G,” he says and tries to sound nonchalant. Geno shouldn’t feel guilty. “You can have a day on your own. I shouldn’t have bugged you.” He keeps picturing turning into Geno’s driveway and wishing he’d just kept driving instead.
Geno chews his lip and folds the little jersey up and sets it next to him. “Have brunch party thing. Is over not long before you come over. But I think maybe I stay for little bit and give you time in quiet house.” He looks down at his hands. “We take over life, you have no time alone. Feel bad. Make you let strangers on property for trick-or-treat. I’m push too much.”
Sid swallows. “G--” He says and sits down next to him. “I like when you’re here.” It feels like a simplistic way of saying it, but it also manages to gloss over the seven layers of more complex feelings Sid’s been trying to squash all day.
Geno smiles, but it’s thin and a little sad.
“If it makes you feel better to leave for a day to give me ‘space’--” Sid makes air quotes around the word, “then okay. Do what you need to do to feel okay about living here. But, like, I missed your kid today. And I realized I don’t really like football unless I’m watching it with you. I tried to watch the game, and it’s less fun when you aren’t swearing in Russian and yelling at the TV. And I like grocery shopping better when you’re there, because you keep me from buying weird stuff I’m not going to want to eat later. And eating out alone is boring.”
Geno pokes his leg with his finger and smiles. “Olesyushka miss you today also.” He pulls out his phone and shows Sid pictures of her being held by various Russians, and one particularly funny one of her sobbing in the presence of these weird metal nightmarish statues Geno has out on his back patio.
Sid laughs. “Yeah, let’s not bring those here,” he says, relieved there’s an actual excuse now. He’s been worried those things would show up one day while Sid was at a meeting or something.
Geno rolls his eyes. “She like when she older,” he says defiantly, resolute to the end that those statues are amazing works of art.
Sid flips through the pictures and feels his stomach clench. “Did you have fun?”
Geno smiles. “Yes. Is nice to see friends. Has been some time since we hang out.”
Sid swallows. “Good.”
“But like being here with you, too,” Geno says after a bit of awkward silence. “Yes? Miss spending day with you.”
Sid nods and leans his head on Geno’s shoulder briefly. “Okay,” he says.
**
They have their first interview with Canadian immigration the next week when they’re in Ottawa for a Senators game. The interview goes well, despite Sid bouncing his leg up and down under the table like a tweaker.
Geno finally laces their fingers together and then sets their joined hands on Sid’s knee and gives him a look decidedly meant to convey, “Be cool.”
He tries to be cool. It’s easier than he imagined it would be anyway. No one asks him to describe his sex life with Geno or asks him to give a detailed description of their first date. It’s mostly just very basic questions about their life, their jobs and Olesya.
Geno squeezes his hand a few times as he’s talking. Sid has no idea how someone who pretends not to understand English to get out of doing press after games is charming their interviewer and telling him jokes like he’s effortlessly engaging in all circumstances and in every language. Sid is both grateful for him and annoyed by his calm.
But at any rate, they appear to have satisfied the initial requirements to move along the permanent resident card process. Geno has a temporary designation that tides him over until the real thing is granted to him.
No one is keen on telling them if they’ll have a home visit to look forward to. It seems unlikely given their location, but everyone seems interested in leaving the impression that it could happen at any time.
When they get back from the trip to Ottawa, they celebrate Olesya’s six month milestone with a bowl of rice cereal. She smacks the gooey substance around in her mouth and then looks at them like the world is new and bright and open to her.
“Just wait,” Sid says as he holds the phone up so Natalia Malkin can be part of the momentous occasion. “Food gets so much better than rice cereal.”
She burbles happily at him and waves her little arms around in the high chair, patting at the tray.
Natalia says something in Russian, and Geno laughs and answers back before he gives Olesya another bite.
“What’d she say?” Sid asks when it’s clear Geno isn’t going to tell him.
“She want to know if you being bossy about feeding Olesyushka,” Geno says with a grin and then translates what he just said automatically for his mother.
Sid scoffs. “Tell her I’m not bossy,” he insists.
Geno just laughs.
“What? I’m not! I’m just holding this phone so your mom can experience her granddaughter’s big life moment,” Sid huffs. “Excuse both of you very much.”
Geno grins.
“Don’t tell her I said that,” Sid adds quickly.
Natalia says something in an amused tone before Geno can translate for her. Geno laughs and answers her back in Russian.
Sid narrows his eyes.
“She say you sound like angry cat,” Geno says with a smirk.
Sid turns the phone around so he can see her face. She’s laughing at him, and Sid smiles helplessly. He feels bad he can’t joke back with her without having to run it through Geno first. He turns the phone back toward Geno as he spoons the last bites into Olesya’s mouth.
“Good job!” Sid says, and she smiles brightly at him, face covered in cereal.
Geno leans over and kisses her forehead and then accepts a cloth from Sid and wipes her face. “Messy baby,” he mumbles. When he gets her cleaned up he takes her out of the highchair and hands her to Sid, who is still holding Geno’s mom and feeling bad he can’t really entertain her on his own.
“I’m finish up with Mama,” Geno says and takes the phone from Sid.
Sid nods and takes Olesya over to the couch where her penguin stuffed animal is waiting for her. Since Geno’s out of ear shot Sid makes the penguin tell her she did a great job eating her food. She giggles and reaches out for the still-nameless penguin and rests her face against it.
Sid feels something big and thick rise up in his chest. He pulls her closer and kisses her cheek. She looks at him with big eyes and reaches out for his shirt.
“Today seems like a big day,” he says softly, her attention fixed on the 412 logo in the center of his shirt. “You’re six months old.”
Her gaze meets his, and she smiles and pats at his chest.
“I want you to get old enough to talk,” Sid informs her. “But then you aren’t allowed to get any older. So,” he says and combs the very blonde wisps of her hair up and off her face, “you have another few months of growing and then you need to stop. Got it?”
She grins at him and then lunges at the penguin.
“Right,” Sid says and makes the penguin bounce around in front of her. “Good talk.”
**
Columbus plays Pittsburgh the next week. Jack Johnson calls Sid a couple of days before the team is due to arrive.
“You still up for a houseguest?” He asks. They usually stay at the other’s home when the Blue Jackets play the Penguins. They’ve been friends since they were teenagers, and it’s always nice to catch up with him.
“Of course,” Sid says, and then realizes he should’ve run this by Geno. “Geno, uh, his baby are here now,” he adds just in case that changes things for Jack.
“I figured,” he says with a smirk in his voice.
“Yeah okay,” Sid says sheepishly.
“We have a day off before the game,” Jack says. “So I’m coming out a day early. Pick me up from the airport?”
They make their arrangements and then Sid goes to inform Geno.
“Johnson good guy,” Geno says with a shrug. “Is fine. He not bring Dubinsky, right?”
Sid laughs. “He better not.”
“He know about this?” Geno says and gestures between them.
Sid nods. “He knows we’re married.”
“But-- he know is-- he know you do me favor?” Geno stumbles over an explanation of their situation.
“Oh,” Sid says and looks down. “No. No one but Mario and my family know that.”
Geno nods and inexplicably grins. “Yes. I be good husband while Johnson here.”
Sid gives him a look. “That sounds like a threat,” he says warily.
Geno laughs. “Not threat,” he says and crosses the kitchen to stand directly in front of Sid. “We make him believe,” he says as he pulls Sid into a hug and kisses his temple. “Like that. Best husband.” Geno pulls away with a very smug look on his face.
Sid feels his face redden, and he covers it up by moving to get something, anything, out of the refrigerator. “Yeah okay,” he says into the contents of the fridge.
Geno smacks his ass as he passes and laughs all the way up the stairs.
**
Sid’s nervous about Jack’s arrival. He waits outside the terminal at the airport and hopes he doesn’t get the third degree from him all the way back to the house. But that’s probably wishful thinking.
“So married, huh?” Jack asks with a big grin the second he sits down in the front seat. “I always hoped you two kids would get together,” he says and clutches at his heart with mock sincerity.
Sid rolls his eyes. “You did not.”
Jack laughs. “Well, I wondered,” he says with less teasing in his voice. “He looks at you very intensely,” he says and then turns a very focused stare on Sid. “Everyone was scared to poke the bear during playoffs last year. I told Dubinsky that if he kept cross-checking you Geno was going to bring the Russian hockey mafia to his house to do some damage.”
Sid laughs. “Bobrovsky too?”
“You never know,” Jack says. “Those Russians are tight.”
“They are,” Sid agrees. “Geno’s first question when I told him you were coming to stay with us was if you were bringing any of your teammates with you. He seems to hold a particular sort of grudge against Dubinsky, what with the skate to the face incident and all.”
“Oh that’s right. I forgot about that.” Jack cackles. “I need to persuade Geno to give him some looks during the game.”
“Your own team,” Sid says with mock disgust.
Jack grins. “Eh,” he shrugs. “We’ll stop Geno from actually hurting him. But it’ll be funny to see the look on Dubi’s face.”
Geno greets them at the door with Olesya in his arms. Sid tries to view the situation through Jack’s eyes, if it seems real, if he buys that Geno is a convincing husband.
Geno introduces Jack to Olesya by telling her several disparaging things about the Blue Jackets and warning her against any sort of friendliness against all but Jack.
Jack laughs and then reaches out and shakes Olesya’s little fist. “Good to meet you,” he says. She smiles brightly at him and reaches her hand out to him again. “Your daddies know how to hold a grudge like few others in hockey,” he says conspiratorially.
Sid glances up at Geno and feels both proud and embarrassed for some reason.
Geno laughs and doesn’t even seem to acknowledge the weirdness of Jack’s comment. “Not weird to not like guy who gives this,” he says imperiously, tracing the scar high on his cheek. “And guy who hound Sid all playoffs.”
Jack smiles. “Well, I’m sure now that he knows you guys are together he’ll be looking over his shoulder during the game tomorrow.”
Geno hands Olesya to Sid and opens the fridge. “Beer? Water? Vodka?”
“Water,” he says. “Vodka? Really?”
Geno grins and shrugs. He doesn’t usually offer that to people, so Sid assumes that’s just him teasing Jack. He hands Jack a water bottle and tosses one to Sid without asking.
“I buy steaks,” Geno says as he presses his hand into the small of Sid’s back and pushes them over to the couches.
Sid feels his face warm.
“Sounds good to me,” Jack says and leans back in the big leather chair in the corner of the room.
**
After dinner Geno puts Olesya to bed and then comes back downstairs to say goodnight to Sid and Jack.
“Will watch TV upstairs,” he explains as he puts his hand on Sid’s shoulder and squeezes. “Goodnight. Nice you are here Jack.”
Jack smiles. “Yeah, thanks Geno.”
When Geno has disappeared up the stairs Jack gives Sid a look.
“What?” He asks, face heating.
“I just can’t believe I didn’t realize before,” he says with a smirk.
Sid swallows. “Yeah, well, maybe we didn’t want you to.” He gives Jack a petulant look.
Jack grins. “Except that it should’ve been obvious. He’s super protective of you. Do you know that other teams’ entire scouting report on him is basically ‘if you fuck with Crosby, Malkin comes unglued.’ Why do you think Dubi and Staal went after you so hard?”
“So I wouldn’t score?” Because come on, that shit’s just offensive.
“Well, sure,” Jack admits with a knowing smile. “Bonus. But it’s killing two birds with one angry Russian stone. Fuck with you, piss him off, he takes stupid penalties, plays reckless, whatever.”
Sid rolls his eyes. “He’s like that about our whole team,” he says defensively.
Jack snorts. “Yeah, okay. My point is, it makes more sense now.”
Sid swallows and plays with a frayed seam on his jeans.
“It’s good, Sid,” Jack says after a few beats of silence, voice softer. “I mean not the penalty stuff, at least not for the Pens, but things seem good between you guys.”
Sid smiles. “Yeah,” he says truthfully. “It’s good.” Because weirdly maybe it is.
“And Olesya seems to have you wrapped around her finger,” Jack teases.
“Yeah, well--” he feels his face light up and immediately tries to tone it down a little. “She’s better than most babies. She has, like, a personality and stuff. And she’s really smart. I swear she knows what I’m saying to her. She watches me like she’d answer if she could. And she’s really cute. Some babies are just--” He stops when he sees the look on Jack’s face.
“What,” Sid says warily.
“It’s good,” Jack says with a wide smile. He stands and stretches. “Pretty sure you’re supposed to think all that about your own kid. So it’s good.”
Sid looks down. “No,” he says, his throat dry. “She’s Geno’s.”
“Yeah,” Jack says, brow furrowed. “But-- I mean her mom isn’t in the picture, right? And-- And you and Geno are married--”
Sid’s stomach clenches. “Yeah, but I mean-- that’s not-- I’m not her dad.” It’s a struggle to say those words.
Jack gives him an appraising look. “Okay, Sid.” He smiles hesitantly. “I’m going to go to bed, I think.”
Sid nods and stands. “Last door upstairs on the right. There should be towels in the bathroom and stuff.”
Jack smiles and heads upstairs. Sid spends a few minutes locking doors and turning out lights. His stomach feels all stirred up, so he takes a few sips of water before he goes upstairs.
When he finally does, Geno is in Sid’s bed. Which is...unexpected. He’s propped up on the side of the of the bed that’s “his” on the road. He’s doing something intently on his phone, the TV tuned to NHL Tonight.
He looks up and grins when Sid shuts the door.
“Hi,” Sid says with a question in his voice.
Geno chuckles. “Maybe Jack think is weird if we sleep in separate rooms, yes?” His smile falters just a bit.
“Oh,” Sid says quickly. “Yeah. Good call.”
They spend at least a couple nights a week in the same bed on road trips, so Sid’s used to sleeping with Geno at this point. He knows that they’ll start the night on opposite sides of the bed, a respectful distance apart, and they’ll wake up in the morning more or less plastered against each other.
It embarrassed Sid the first morning they woke up like that, but Geno seemed completely unfazed. It’s not like they did it on purpose.
But on the road it seems different somehow. Like it’s not quite real life anyway, so Sid can compartmentalize it.
“Good day?” Geno asks after Sid has gone through his nightly routine and settled into his side of the bed.
“Yeah,” Sid says. “It’s always good to see Jack.”
Geno smiles and nods. “I like. So does Olesya. She tell me.”
Sid laughs and nods. He can tell when she’s wary of people, and she’d gone right to Jack when he asked if he could hold her.
“Thanks for picking up the steaks and stuff,” Sid says remembering. That had been unexpected. Sid had just assumed they’d go out to dinner somewhere. But the evening was more relaxed at home. It was comfortable and easy.
“Of course,” Geno says and places his phone next to the baby monitor by the bed.
They watch TV in silence for a little while.
“Jack thinks you’re going to try to get back at Dubinsky tomorrow,” Sid says after a few minutes.
Geno glances over at Sid. “He say?”
Sid nods. “He said part of the reason Dubinsky was so hard on me during the playoffs was because they all know if they play me dirty you’ll get pissed and retaliate and maybe take a penalty.”
Geno makes a face. “Dubinsky suck my dick,” he says darkly. “Skate to face and asshole to you enough reason.”
Sid swallows. “I can handle it though,” he says gently. “Guys always play me like that.”
Geno grunts disapproval. “Not fair,” he says darkly. “Staal crosscheck many times, hit head with elbow, trip, no one call. Dubinsky same. No one stop. So I stop.”
Sid’s stomach warms. “I know, G. But then you get taken out of your game. I don’t want that to be my fault.”
Geno scowls at the TV. “They think you mine now, though,” he says finally, his voice quiet and serious. “So even worse if I let. They do to me too. Show disrespect.”
Sid’s throat feels thick. What he wants to say and what he’s supposed to say are very different things. What he wants to say is that he likes how Geno stands up for him. Guys were chirping and saying and doing all sorts of stuff during the playoffs. And everyone on the team protects Sid to a certain extent. Sid’s the captain, so keeping him safe is a point of honor. But Geno took it to another level. He pushed Sid behind him and yelled when guys got too close, and shoved them aside when they skated too close mumbling something rude on their way back to the bench.
Stuff like that makes Sid feel like Geno has his back no matter what, even if he starts the fight, he knows Geno will take his side. And he likes that feeling.
Geno’s always on his side.
If Sid has to talk to the team about something difficult, Geno stands up with him, usually silently, but it still lets them know that whatever Sid is saying has Geno’s blessing. He volunteered to do a press conference with Sid right before game seven against the Rangers, after they’d watched their 3-1 series lead slip away, and Pittsburgh seemed ready to run Sid out of town. Geno sat beside him and faced media questions and criticism. He made jokes and provided distraction. And Geno hates doing press. He did that entirely for Sid.
Sid knows he should tell Geno not to go after guys on the ice, but he also knows Geno will do it regardless. And Sid doesn’t want him to feel like it’s something Sid’s ashamed of. Their marriage might not be real, but being linked to Geno like that, having people assume Geno is extra protective of him now, fills Sid with pride.
“Thanks,” Sid says finally. “For having my back and stuff.” He reaches over and pokes at Geno in the ribs awkwardly.
Geno’s face registers surprise. “Always, Sid,” he says with conviction.
“I know,” Sid says and has to swallow to get his voice to sound normal again. “I mean, try to pick your moments. And try not to do it like right in front of a ref or whatever.”
Geno laughs. “Yes, captain,” he says and wraps his arm around Sid’s shoulders, pulling him close. “We are team,” he says and then thinks better of it. “Of course team, but-- we are team inside team.”
Sid nods against him. He probably shouldn’t let himself relax into Geno, but he’s warm and Geno’s t-shirt is soft, and Sid doesn’t care if this is real or not, it still feels nice. It makes him happy.
“Yeah,” Sid agrees. “We are.” He stays close for the rest of the show they’re watching.
His eyes droop a little, and he feels like he could fall asleep just like that. He’ll probably wake up smushed up against Geno anyway, so what’s the difference?
Geno rubs Sid’s neck with his fingers, and the pattern lulls Sid to sleep.
**
When Sid wakes up the next morning, Geno is climbing back into bed with Olesya.
“‘s wrong?” Sid mumbles and turns onto his side facing them.
Olesya watches Sid closely, and he reaches out and places his hand on her belly.
“She wake up early,” Geno explains. “Not want wake Jack up. So change diaper and bring in here little bit. Yes?”
Sid nods and sinks back into his pillow. “Hi Lesya,” he mumbles as he lets his eyes slip shut again.
Geno curls around Olesya on her other side, and they both start to fall asleep again.
“Will we crush her?” Sid slurs, struck by the thought of accidentally rolling over her.
Geno huffs out a laugh. “No, Sid.”
“You don’t know that,” Sid says, suddenly much more awake.
Geno shushes him and pats Sid’s head with a giant hand. “Instinct,” he says in a calming tone. “We keep her safe.”
Sid can’t fall back to sleep after that. But he kind of dozes a little. And when he’s not doing that he watches Olesya. She keeps grinning at him. Her smile is so much like Geno’s. She reaches out, and her hand brushes Sid’s face, inadvertently patting his cheek and bumping his nose. He laughs softly and rubs his fingers across her belly.
Lately she’s been doing this thing where she blows raspberries into the air. And then the sound cracks her up. So she’s making her weird little air raspberries and then giggling. It makes Sid laugh too, and when she realizes he’s laughing at her, she seems to get extra excited about it.
Sid wonders if babies have a sense of humor. Is this her baby version of a joke? Sid leans closer and kisses her forehead because he thinks she’s so great. He’s pretty sure she’s the best baby ever. That has to be objectively true. He never remembers thinking other babies were this interesting. Cute, sure. Cuddly or whatever, yeah of course. But Sid could watch this kid’s little arms flail around and make ridiculous sounds with her mouth for hours. That has to be a sign that she’s just a superior baby in general.
He looks over at Geno and finds him watching them with a soft smile on his face.
“Did we wake you up?” Sid asks and laughs again because Olesya realizes her dad is awake too and it’s like her delight meter explodes off the charts.
Geno shakes his head and then leans closer to Olesya and whispers something to her in Russian and kisses her cheek. “Is good to wake up to,” he says, voice fond and warm, and Sid has to stop himself from reaching out and touching Geno too.
“We should maybe go make breakfast so Jack’s not just down there all by himself,” Sid says after several minutes of the two of them grinning at Olesya and tickling her and being embarrassing. “Unless you want him to come in here too,” Sid jokes.
Geno laughs and grabs his phone. “Skate in couple hours. Margaret be here soon.”
“Want breakfast, Lesya?” Sid asks and scoops her up off the bed, and they go downstairs.
Jack’s in the kitchen, fiddling with the coffee pot when Sid and Geno enter. “I just about have it figured out,” he says gesturing to the machine.
“Sorry,” Sid says and turns it on for him with a flick of a couple of switches.
Jack’s grinning stupidly at Olesya. Sid wonders if he looks that stupid when he makes faces at her. Probably.
“You want to hold her while we make breakfast?” Sid asks handing her over.
“For sure,” Jack says and then begins a really serious game of peekaboo with her.
Sid and Geno make eye contact across the kitchen and share a smile. Geno makes scrambled eggs while Sid cuts up fruit and makes toast. He pours Jack a cup of coffee when it’s ready, and they eat together at the table. Geno’s trying squash with Olesya this week, so he works to get a few bites of that into her without getting it everywhere. Results are mixed.
When they’re done, Sid drops Jack off at the Blue Jackets’ hotel for a team meeting.
“Thanks for coming to visit,” Sid says sincerely.
“Always, man,” Jack says and clasps Sid’s shoulder. “Text me some pictures of the kid sometimes.”
Sid grins involuntarily and then tries to rein it in a little. “You might regret asking for that,” he says sheepishly.
“I think I know what I’m getting myself into,” Jack jokes and gets out of the car. “If it gets annoying I’ll just send Margaret a Blue Jackets jersey for Olesya and have her take a picture.”
Sid laughs. “Riiiight.”
“You never know,” Jack says as he steps back from the car. “Margie was giving me the eye at the breakfast table. We could’ve exchanged numbers while you weren’t looking.”
Sid makes a face. “You’re disturbed. Just for that we’re not only going to win tonight, we’re going to dominate.”
Jack rolls his eyes and gives a little wave as he heads into the hotel.
**
After the game, Sid and Geno go straight home to relieve Margaret from Olesya duty. Geno makes them sandwiches, and they watch a little TV in comfortable silence.
Things were a little different last season. Sid didn’t always go out after games, but if Paulie or Bort or one of the other guys were going to grab a drink or a bite afterward, Sid sometimes went along. He hasn’t done that all season. And he hasn’t really missed it.
He likes catching Olesya right before Margaret puts her down and giving her a kiss. Or peeking in on her if she’s already asleep and rubbing one of her legs gently.
Geno makes good sandwiches, and he’s usually up for talking through the game if that’s what Sid’s in the mood for. Conversely he doesn’t seem particularly bothered by the times Sid would rather sulk quietly for awhile.
Things are different, Sid thinks as he eats his sandwich and they talk through a particularly amazing goal Geno scored in the third period. But not a bad different. He likes the new routine.
When it’s time for bed, they walk upstairs together, and there’s a moment outside Sid’s room where it seems like Geno’s going to follow him.
There’s no reason to, of course, and ultimately Geno just smiles and says goodnight and heads down the hall to his own room.
That shouldn’t be disappointing. It’s what is normal at home. They share space on the road but at home they go back to their separate rooms on either end of the hall.
Things were turned upside down by Jack’s visit, though. Sid can’t help thinking about how much he likes sleeping with Geno on the road.
His bed feels big and cold when he finally slides between the sheets. That’s ridiculous, because he sleeps alone most of the time. He shakes it off and reads a couple of chapters of the book he’s been trying to get through and decidedly ignores the empty side of the bed.
**
They have a four day road trip to Chicago and Minnesota a couple of days later. The media seems excited about the Blackhawks/Penguins game since they can run with the “married teammates playing married teammates” angle.
There’s always more media in Chicago, but it feels extra thick in the room after morning skate. The questions are even more contrived than usual too. Sid’s made a policy of not answering questions about anything Geno-related unless it has to do with hockey. So reporters have taken to working questions about domestic stuff around hockey, with awkward results (“Is it difficult to play on the power play together when you’re fighting at home?”).
But the Chicago questions are even sillier (“Do you feel like you understand Toews and Kane better this year?” and “Will your marriage affect the way you play Toews and Kane?”) The questions make very little sense, and the reporters, to their credit, seem to know that. Sid isn’t even sure how to answer them intelligently sometimes (“We only play Chicago twice this year, so I don’t think I’m in a better position to judge their game this year than last year” and “I will play against Toews and Kane the way I play against everyone else.”)
But every reporter is desperate for a marriage-related quote to run with. Just like every hockey hug gets analyzed, every goal celebration and butt slap and hand shake and smile and laugh are commented on by someone.
In their last game, Geno hadn’t hugged Sid quite as hard as he sometimes does after a power play goal and someone wrote a column suggesting that “sources” claim their marriage is in trouble, and the tension could be distracting them from hockey. They won the game, so Sid has no idea how that even makes sense.
Toews is waiting for Sid when he finally exits the locker room.
“Sorry,” he says before Sid can even greet him. “They’ve been treating this game like a double date for the last week.”
Sid laughs. “Yeah, they’re really interested in the state of our marriages and how those marriages might ruin the hockey game.”
Toews smiles. “So speaking of dates, we could grab lunch. Kaner’s finishing up with our trainer. But then we could go somewhere.”
“Oh,” Sid says, surprised. “Geno’s skyping--” he starts to say ‘with his kid,’ but then realizes technically that’s not something he’s told Jonny about yet, “back at the hotel. But I can ask? I’ll text you.”
Toews nods. “It’s fine if not, man,” he says, with his usual laid back politeness. “We’ll be in Pittsburgh after Christmas I think. Could always do it then.”
“Sure thing,” Sid says. “I’ll check with Geno.”
“Sweet,” Toews says, smile broadening as Kane appears from around a corner far down the hall, talking animatedly with someone. “Catch you later,” he says, pushing off the wall and heading toward Kane. “Let’s still be friends after we kick your ass tonight,” he says over his shoulder.
Sid laughs and flips him off before heading back to the hotel to find Geno.
**
Geno’s lying on his side on the bed, facing away from the door with his laptop open. Sid can see Olesya’s face and hears Margaret telling Geno that she’s been scooting around on the floor that morning.
She sets Olesya on the ground and then tries to get her to do it again, coaxing her in English and Russian. Sid sits next to Geno on the bed and watches the action (or lack thereof) with him.
When Margaret picks Olesya up after it’s clear she’s not interested in performing her new trick on command, Sid says hi to her. She reaches toward the screen and squeals.
“Hi Lesya,” Sid says again, and she laughs and pats the laptop screen. He feels something thick form in his throat.
Geno rests his hand on Sid’s back. “Maybe she do new thing for you,” he says with a hint of frustration in his voice.
“She’ll do it again,” Margaret says gently. “She just did it for the first time this morning. Give it time.”
Geno nods and swallows. He says a few things to Olesya in Russian, and she grins at the screen and shoves a hand in her mouth.
Margaret gets distracted by a delivery person at the gate and ends the Skype session.
Geno makes a frustrated sound and leans back against his pillow. “Miss things,” he says and looks at Sid with something broken in his eyes.
Sid leans back next to him. “She was crawling?”
Geno shrugs slightly. “Margie say kind of scoot. Book say come before crawl.” His voice is choked.
Sid feels helpless because it totally sucks. And he’s kind of disappointed he didn’t get to see it either. But he also knows there’s nothing they can do to change it, as long as hockey is their chosen profession. “Sounds like we better baby proof the house,” he says finally.
Geno glances over at him and smiles. “Yes. I buy things for that.”
Sid props himself on his side facing Geno. “We can do that when we get home. Off day project.”
Geno swallows. “Okay. Yes.” He visibly relaxes a little, and sinks further into his pillow.
“What all does it entail?” He asks, to keep Geno focused on something he has control over.
“Cover for--” he points at the plug on the wall and mimes pushing a cord in.
“Electrical outlets.”
“Yes,” Geno nods. “Things for cupboards. Keep drawer closed. Gate for stairs.” He waves his hand to indicate that the list is lengthy.
“So, basically what you’re saying is that we’re not going to be able to open drawers and doors in our house anymore,” Sid says with a smile.
“Yes,” Geno says. “This is problem.”
Sid smiles and remembers Toews’ invitation to lunch. It’s not a good time for that, Sid decides. So he pulls out his phone and taps out a quick text explaining they’ll catch Patrick and Jonathan in Pittsburgh.
Geno shifts a little and watches Sid with raised eyebrows.
“Nothing,” Sid says and puts his phone on the table. “Toews.”
Geno nods and doesn’t ask for more information. “I miss Olesyushka,” he says quietly. “Wish she travel with us.”
Sid smiles and his stomach clenches. He reaches out and wraps his hand around Geno’s arm. “I miss her too,” he says truthfully. “The longer trips are the hardest.”
Geno nods. “You think she miss?”
“Totally,” Sid says confidently. Babies are complex, and he has no idea if absence is noted and catalogued the same way it is for them. But he feels pretty confident that she likes it better when Geno is around. “How could she not?” He smiles and rubs his thumb up and down Geno’s arm.
Geno’s eyes close briefly. “Never think I have baby yet,” he says softly and swallows.
Sid doesn’t say anything because it doesn’t seem like Geno needs him to.
When he opens his eyes, they look a little wet. “But so glad,” he says, voice scratchy. “Lucky.”
His face is open and vulnerable, and Sid understands the emotion so purely, he scoots a little closer and wraps his arm around Geno without thinking too much about it. He rubs his fingers up and down Geno’s back as Geno leans into him. “She’s great, G,” he says with conviction. “You are lucky.”
Geno nods against Sid. “We lucky,” he says softly.
Sid starts to say something but there’s a knock on the door.
“I order food,” Geno explains and shifts to get up and answer the door.
“I’ll get it,” Sid says and motions for him to stay on the bed.
Geno ordered both of them lunch, all the things Sid usually eats at lunch on a game day. He got it right without even having to ask Sid what he wanted. Sid signs the ticket, tips the guy and then brings the food into the room.
“Thanks,” Sid says and motions to the food.
Geno shrugs. “I think if you not want I eat,” he smiles but his eyes look tired and a little less happy than they usually do.
Sid laughs. “No, I’ll eat. I’m hungry.”
“Eat, then nap,” Geno instructs and grabs his food off the tray.
“Sounds good,” Sid says and smiles.
**
While they eat Geno scrolls through his Twitter feed. He smiles a few times, makes funny faces, rolls his eyes.
“I don’t get Twitter,” Sid says after awhile.
Geno looks up. “Get?”
“Like--” Sid thinks about his agent and PR people trying to explain why it’s a benefit and why it can be an important tool in image management. “What’s the point?”
Geno wipes his mouth with a napkin and moves closer to Sid. “See. Is feed.” He scrolls through a list of tweets (he explains) from people he follows (and stops to explain what exactly that entails). Apparently he can see news and updates from friends along with pictures of baby seals and puppies (that seems equally important to him as the news and friends).
“But-- can’t people text you that stuff?” Sid takes Geno’s phone from him and clicks on a couple of tweets.
Geno laughs. “But then they text all friends? This easy. Happen all at once. And fans can follow.”
Sid makes a face. “But fans say shitty stuff,” he says and points to a comment that seems unnecessarily mean on one of Beau’s tweets.
“Of course,” Geno says with amusement. “We ignore.”
Sid makes another face. “I still don’t get it.”
Geno laughs and takes his phone back. “I make you Twitter but not for Sidney Crosby. You be other name and follow all friends and sister and puppies. And you see. No one have to know is you.”
Sid thinks about it. “Maybe...”
“Will not tell,” Geno promises. “Husband secret.”
Sid laughs. “Do you post pictures of Olesya.”
Geno shakes his head. “No. I want. But. No.”
“She’s cuter than all the puppies,” Sid says confidently.
“Of course,” Geno says and picks up his laptop and works on something while Sid finishes his lunch. “Give me phone,” Geno says, putting out his hand. Sid hands it to him, and he pokes at it and does mysterious things. Sid doesn’t ask questions.
“Okay,” Geno says proudly after a few minutes. “You MrMalkin87 on Twitter--”
Sid chokes on his water. “Oh sure,” he says as his face heats.
Geno pokes his tongue between his teeth.
“Like people won’t suspect that’s me?” Sid asks incredulously.
Geno shrugs. “There is MrsMalkin71 and MalkinCrosby7187 and MalkinLovesCrosby. So maybe not.”
Sid’s mouth falls open a little. He really doesn’t understand the internet.
Geno waits to see if Sid’s going to interject anything else and then continues. “Account private. No one can see what you tweet. I follow friends and Pens and puppies. Make Instagram too. You follow me and Mama. Also private. You post pictures of Olesya and no one sees but people who follow.”
“So, essentially you then?” Sid asks as warmth spreads through his chest.
“Yes,” Geno says with a grin. “And Mama when she accepts request. Ask Taylor if she has Instagram.” He takes a picture of himself using Sid’s phone and shows Sid how to make a post on Instagram.
“I still don’t get the point,” Sid mumbles taking his phone back from Geno.
Geno laughs and pats his knee. “Is okay if not want. Can delete. But give couple days and see.”
Sid looks skeptically at his phone. “Okay.”
Geno laughs again and wraps an arm around Sid’s shoulders. “This like when I explain Twitter to Mama.”
“Heyyy,” Sid says, but there’s no heat in his protest.
He sees that Beau and Bort are engaged in some sort of chirp-off about Beau’s ability to load the dishwasher. And also there are puppies doing cute things. He texts Taylor to tell her he has a top secret Twitter account, and she should let him follow her so he can see her stuff.
Taylor’s response is: !!!!!!!!!
To which Sid replies: tell no one
She replies back with a picture of her face with her tongue sticking out.
Sid: No but seriously
She does whatever magical thing gives him permission to see her Twitter, because suddenly he’s scrolling through tweets about what she ate for breakfast, stuff about her last game, jokes with friends. There are pictures of her room and of her around campus. He notes a few male-seeming people responding somewhat inappropriately to her on a few occasions and vows to talk to her about respect and how gross most boys are basically all the time. He also sees that she and Geno interact sometimes, Geno commenting on a tweet about her last practice, Taylor giving Geno a thumbs up to something he tweeted the week before. It makes his stomach clinch.
He looks up and finds Geno watching him with amusement. Sid rolls his eyes automatically.
Geno just laughs and scoots up on the bed until he’s resting against the headboard. “Nap,” he says and pats the bed next to him with authority.
“Yeah, okay,” Sid mumbles. But he’s reading an exchange between two fans on a tweet from the official Penguins’ Twitter. Apparently Geno’s stats are better since their marriage, but Sid’s are down slightly. This is leading them to all sorts of offensive and nonsensical conclusions. And yet Sid can’t seem to stop reading it.
Geno pulls Sid’s arm until he finally crawls up the bed and lies down.
“Happy?” He asks testily when he’s settled into his pillow.
Geno smirks. “I create monster.” He moves closer and looks over to what Sid is looking at on his phone. “No, no,” he says and pulls the phone out of Sid’s hands. “First rule. Not read comments on Pens’ tweets.”
Geno puts Sid’s phone next to his on the nightstand.
Sid makes a noise of protest. But Geno keeps him from reaching across for the phone with his freakishly long and surprisingly strong arm.
“After nap,” Geno says and pulls Sid closer, ostensibly to keep him from squirming out of his grasp and grabbing the phone. But it’s a strong reassuring hold, and Sid melts into it easily.
“They said you’re playing better since we got married, and I’m playing worse,” Sid says after a few beats of silence.
Geno scoffs and tightens his grip around Sid. “All part of big plan,” he says, muffled by Sid’s hair. “Take over team. Face on web site first.”
Sid smiles and lets his eyes slip shut. Geno doesn’t let go, and Sid doesn’t want him to.
**
They win in a shootout later that night. It comes down to Geno, and he pulls out a particularly pretty move that fools Crawford, and the puck ends up in the back of the net.
Sid watches the replay later that night when they’re propped up in bed. He’s also checking Twitter which is abuzz with talk of Geno’s goal. Apparently there is a large contingency of fans hot for Geno’s hockey. Or maybe just hot for Geno. It’s hard to tell.
Something pools in Sid’s stomach when people say those things about Geno, something like pride, maybe a little like want. He feels his cheeks heat, and looks up to find Geno watching him curiously.
“The internet wants to have sex with your hockey,” Sid says and then goes instantly scarlet.
Geno laughs, loud and delighted. He takes Sid’s phone from him again and sets it next to his.
“Heyyy,” Sid protests.
“Obsess,” Geno says amused.
At first Sid thinks he means that Sid’s obsessed with Geno being hot to the internet and his face gets even hotter. But then he realizes Geno means Twitter.
“It was your idea,” Sid says imperiously and turns on his side facing away from Geno.
Geno laughs and does the now familiar thing where he pulls Sid closer and fits them together. Which Sid is...totally on board with.
He should maybe take a step back and decide if it’s wise for them to so easily invade each other’s space, that it’s so comfortable to be close. But Geno’s warm, and it’s nice to feel connected to someone, even if it’s in a pretty PG sort of way.
**
They lose to Minnesota, and that’s annoying. But mostly Sid feels relieved it means they get to go home. The longer road trips seem to wear on Geno, and by the end he’s much more withdrawn. He holds Sid tighter when they sleep, but it feels desperate in a way that makes Sid worry more instead of being comforted by his presence.
They get home mid-afternoon the next day, and Olesya is just getting up from her nap. She blinks her eyes a few times when she sees them, reaching out with happy noises.
Geno hugs her close and says soft things in Russian against her cheek. Sid makes eye contact with Margaret and gives her a small smile.
“You can go,” Sid tells her. “And we have tomorrow off, so you can too if you want.”
“Oh thank you,” she says meaningfully. “I need to do my Thanksgiving shopping anyway.”
Sid nods. “Everything go okay?”
“It did. She missed her daddies though,” she says and squeezes Sid’s arm as she passes. “Enjoy your time off.”
Geno hands Olesya to Sid. “She want,” he says simply.
Sid takes her and holds her tightly. “Hi baby,” he says with a smile. She presses her little hand against his cheek. “Were you a good girl?” He asks, and she seems to consider the question before grinning at him. Sid laughs and takes her over to the couch while Geno walks Margaret out.
“Are you going to show us your new moves?” Sid asks as she pulls on his tie with her surprisingly tight grip. “We’ll wait til your Papa gets back,” he says conspiratorially. “Because if you do it for me first, I think he’ll move out.”
She makes several of her noises, one of which sounds like, “da-da” but the doctor told them it doesn’t quite mean what they might hope it means yet. It’s just an easy sound to make.
When Geno comes inside, they set Olesya on the floor and try to coax her into moving from one of them to the other. Her legs and arms are definitely more active, and there’s lots of pushing motions and things that seem close to forward motion, but mostly she just seems thrilled to have their undivided attention.
They spend the rest of the day together. Geno makes supper while Sid entertains Olesya with several of her stuffed animals. He gathers them around her on the floor like an audience and tells her she has to entertain them. She makes her little noises and flails her arms around, and Sid decides it’s her attempt at standup comedy. He laughs, which in turn makes her face light up.
He looks up to find Geno watching them with amusement. “You feed?” He asks gesturing to Olesya. “Unless you both too busy?” He raises his eyebrow at Sid.
Sid smiles sheepishly and moves the stuffed animals aside. “I can feed her,” he says, refusing to acknowledge Geno’s teasing look.
He carries her to the kitchen and straps her into her high chair. Margaret has been whizzing up fruits and vegetables and freezing them in ice cube trays. She said she did it for her kids and had reasons why it was better than jarred baby food. Sid had no idea people made their own. But he trusts Margaret, and it feels like they’re feeding Olesya stuff they’d actually eat.
“Okay,” he says looking at the various bags in the freezer. “Peas? Pears? Peaches?”
“Pears,” Geno says. “Peas for lunch, Margie say.”
Sid nods. “Pears it is,” he says and puts his hand on Olesya’s head as he passes. “They’re better than peas anyway,” he admits. He unthaws the pears like Margaret showed them, fits Olesya with a plastic bib and drags a chair over in front of her.
She smiles at him immediately. Sid forgets how much he misses these simple moments when they are away. He knows he misses Olesya. But he forgets how much he likes the mundane things about her care. He likes to feed her, give her a bath, put her to bed. He likes just holding her on his lap while he reads a book.
The crying and fussing is less fun. It’s frustrating when they can’t figure out how to get her to stop. It’s not all perfect moments of smiling baby joy. But even those difficult moments carry an undercurrent of affection that makes everything feel worth it.
“Margie think Olesya might be getting first tooth,” Geno says as he stirs something on the stove.
“Oh yeah?” He peers inside her mouth. “I don’t see anything.”
“She say,” Geno says shrugging. “Margie like magic. She know.”
Sid laughs. It’s not far from the truth. “We should get Margie something really nice for Christmas,” Sid says.
“Like what?”
He hasn’t thought that far ahead. But he has thought about wanting to do something so she knows how much they appreciate her. They pay her very well, including benefits. The agency they used to hire her made it clear that what they were offering was excessive. But it only seemed fair to well pay the person who would essentially raise Olesya while they are gone, sometimes for days at a time. It seemed important to compensate for the loyalty and discretion required when working for people in the public eye.
“Has she said she needs anything? Like a car?”
Geno laughs. “Sid,” he says and points the wooden spoon in his hand in Sid’s direction. “Is too much. She not take.”
“No,” Sid agrees. “I know. But something like that. Something nice.”
“We think. Have some time,” Geno says, smile growing. “Our food almost ready.”
Sid spoons another bite into Olesya’s mouth. She smiles and waves her hands around. “She likes pears I think,” he says approvingly.
“Yes,” Geno agrees. “She eat all you buy her pony?”
Sid scowls at him. “Nothing wrong with getting people gifts,” he says imperiously.
Geno laughs. “I know. Is nice,” he says and pats Sid’s shoulder as he scoots by him to grab something out of the refrigerator.
“If she wants a pony, she could have a pony,” Sid mumbles and then spoons another bite of pears into Olesya’s mouth.
Geno grins. “Spoil. Is good I’m here.”
“Riding lessons could teach discipline,” Sid insists.
Geno laughs and shakes his head. He says something in Russian that doesn’t sound too bad though.
“I’m going to brush up on my French so I can mumble things in another language you don’t speak,” Sid huffs and then makes a funny face at Olesya. She laughs and pats her tray. Sid takes that to mean she’s firmly on his side.
**
Later that night they pause outside Sid’s room after they walk upstairs together. “You want to watch TV or something?” Sid asks before he can stop himself. Of course, they were just watching TV in the family room downstairs. But whatever.
Geno’s face goes through several expressions and lands on a smile. “Okay,” he says. “Change clothes,” he adds and keeps moving toward his room.
They’ve just spent four nights in a row sharing space, Sid tells himself. It’s not weird to get used to that.
They watch Sports Center and highlights from the day’s games on NHL Tonight. Sid keeps nodding off, and Geno’s still propped up on top of the bed instead of under the covers. Sid’s not sure how to tell him to stay without maybe making it weird. He used up his move just getting Geno in the room.
Sid scoots down in the bed and moves just a little closer. Geno huffs out a laugh and says something amused-sounding in Russian as Sid fights to keep his eyes open. Geno reaches out and rubs Sid’s temple with his thumb.
“Should sleep,” he says, voice rough.
Sid nods and sinks further into his pillow, leaning as much toward Geno as he dares. He hears the TV flip off and then feels the blankets rustle and shift as Geno climbs under the covers. Sid bites back a smile.
Geno reaches out and pulls Sid closer, the way he does on the road. It is what it is, Sid decides. He’s not going to make a whole big thing out of it. Geno’s an affectionate person. Sid isn’t really, but he likes to be close to Geno. So.
“Your feet are cold,” Sid mumbles into Geno’s neck.
Geno lets out a puff of laughter and then rubs his cold feet along Sid’s leg because he’s kind of an asshole.
Sid wraps his arm around Geno’s back and then pinches the soft skin above the waistband of his PJ pants.
Geno swears in Russian. “No,” he says into Sid’s hair. “Sleep.”
Sid smiles and obeys, mostly because he was going to anyway.