Work Text:
Lily: I need Canadian music
Jane: ?
Jane: It’s 2 in the morning
Jane: Why are you asking me this?
Lily: You are Canadian, yes?
Lily: And we go on long drive to the cottage, also in Canada, yes?
Lily: So I make playlist for us
Lily: Of good Canadian songs
Jane: And this couldn’t wait until a reasonable hour?
Lily: You are awake
Jane: Fair enough
Jane: But uh I guess if we’re thinking of the classics, maybe some Joni Mitchell? I don’t know.
Jane: I’m going back to bed
Lily: Hm. I will consider.
Lily: Goodnight.
Jane: Goodnight
-
Lily: So I listen. Not good for drive to vacation
Lily: So I talked to Marleau, he is also Canadian
Jane: What, are my recommendations not good enough for you?
Jane: I’ll have you know Big Yellow Taxi is a great song
Lily: Is good but we are going to cottage, not parking lot that used to be cottage
Lily: And you are not only Canadian I know, so…
Jane: Fuck you
Lily: Yes, at cottage after I play you my awesome playlist on the drive there
Jane: Asshole
Lily: Anyway. I asked Marleau
Lily: Don’t worry I did not give him specifics, only I am going on vacation to Canada
Lily: And he told me about Tragically Hip
Lily: Very good band, very classic Canadian he said
Lily: Is perfect for my playlist, they have song called Bobcaygeon, is about town close to where you said your cottage is. I enjoy it very much
Jane: My dad likes them a lot, they’re pretty good
Lily: Your dad has good taste
Jane: Any other songs on your playlist?
Lily: Is surprise, you will see 😘
-
I left your house this mornin'
About a quarter after nine'
Ilya’s been packing for trips around the country and the world for the majority of his life. He no longer thinks much about packing for games on the road, and just throws stuff in his suitcase. He’s been doing it long enough that it works. But as he locks his door behind him to drive to the airport, he tries to ignore the nervous feeling that he’s forgetting something. What do you even bring to a cottage?
-
Could have been the Willie Nelson
Could have been the wine
Shane chews on the strings of his hoodie, staring at the list he’s written out. The grocery store is quiet and empty. He likes going late in the evening, close to closing time. His blue hood is up and he leans slightly on the handle of his cart. Burgers, check, ketchup, check, eggs, check, what’s next? He meanders over to the pop aisle. He adds a pack of ginger ale to his cart, squinting at the shelves before reaching for a pack of Coke, too.
-
When I left your house this mornin'
It was a little after nine
Ilya knows the airport like the back of his hand. But it feels almost like he’s seeing it with fresh eyes. No teammates, no game to think about. Just Shane’s cottage.
It feels strange to not be flying back to Russia. He hated it, but it was familiar. What he’s doing is the opposite of familiar. Fuck, those are nerves. He tries to ignore them. Ilya Rozanov does not get nervous, he tries to tell himself. But as he sits waiting to board the flight, he knows that’s not true.
-
It was in Bobcaygeon, I saw the constellations
Reveal themselves one star at a time
Groceries loaded into the back of his car, Shane steers his cart back to the corral. It’s dark, and the air is cool against his skin. The little supermarket parking lot seems almost out of place, close by the shore of a small lake. The crickets are singing, and the breeze is rustling gently through the branches of the pine trees climbing the rocky hills of the Canadian Shield. Shane’s nervousness seems to blow away with it. Tomorrow, Ilya will be here.
He looks up at the night sky, and sees the constellations slowly reveal themselves to him, one star at a time.