Work Text:
Yuna has known the door code to Shane's apartment ever since he first bought it. In the beginning, it was just for emergencies, but families being what they are, and their little family in particular being what it is, it wasn't long before Yuna found herself making use of the door code merely because Shane was out of town. It only makes sense, since business—Shane's business—brings her to Montreal more often than simply a mother's wish to see her only child in person.
She usually lets Shane know if she's going to be dropping by when he's not home, and particularly if she's going to be spending the night, but sometimes not. Sometimes, something comes up and she has to drop everything and travel to Montreal while Shane is also in transit, or he has his phone on silent for a practice session or a game and forgets to turn the ringer back on afterwards, and he only finds out about her visit to his apartment when she's been and gone.
It turns out to be one of those days on a Thursday towards the end of March. Shane has a game in Boston tonight, and Yuna's a little surprised that he is not answering his phone at 2:00 in the afternoon, but not unduly worried. He's probably just decided to change-up his game day routine and bring his nap time forward. He does that from time to time, testing and tweaking until he's satisfied that all of his routines are tuned to their optimal frequency.
Yuna gives Shane up as a lost cause—for the moment—and she digs in her handbag for her iPad so she can check a detail of the contract that has brought her here today as the elevator takes her smoothly and silently up to Shane's penthouse. She extricates the ipad from the clutches of her bag just as the elevator doors open, so she looks up only a second before she steps out and comes face to face with a young woman—a girl—closing the door to Shane's apartment behind her.
"Oh!" the girl says, her wide eyes betraying her surprise, but probably not as much as whatever expression is on Yuna's face right now. "Did you want to see Shane? I'm afraid he's not here at the moment."
"Yes, I know," Yuna says. "I have the door code to let myself in."
"Oh," the girl repeats. "Well, so do I. A-as you've probably worked out." She flushes pink.
She's blonde—because aren't they all—but not your usual puck bunny. She's wearing neither make-up nor Shane's jersey, and her long hair is pulled back artlessly into a ponytail. But then, Shane's not here to see, is he? So she's free to dress for comfort in jeans and a sweater and leave the jerseys and short-short skirts at home.
God, she looks so young, with that small backpack slung over one shoulder like that. College-aged rather than high school, though, Yuna decides—and heaves an inward sigh of relief—as she takes another few seconds to study the girl. But not as old as Shane. Nowhere near as old as Shane. Maybe twenty, but not much more.
"Yes, I can see that," Yuna says as pleasantly as she can, and waits, eyebrows raised expectantly. "And your name is?" she asks eventually when the girl just stands there.
"Oh, I'm Maddy," the girl says, as if this explains everything.
"Shane hasn't mentioned you before. At all," Yuna says. "I'm his mother, and also his manager, actually, so I'm a little surprised that he… hasn't." That's such a big understatement that it's almost an untruth. She's more than a little surprised that Shane hasn't said a single word about seeing anyone since Rose Landry, and yet now this thing with this girl is apparently serious enough that she stays here when Shane's away. Does she… does she live here with him the rest of the time? Surely Shane would have said something.
Yuna really should have known better than to allow herself to believe that in this, as in everything else, Shane is exceptional. Of course he hooks up, and of course he keeps that from his mother.
"Oh!" says Maddy, for the fourth fucking time. What in hell does Shane see in her? No, don't answer that, Yuna. "Well, we only met last week, Mrs Hollander, so I guess it's not that surprising he didn't tell you about me. I'm here to look after his baby while he's away."
Yuna's jaw literally drops. She can feel it happening but is utterly powerless to stop it. "His baby?" she gets out at last after the longest five seconds of her entire life.
"Yeah, I'm taking care of Tuna for him," Maddy says with a fond smile. "She's so cute!"
"Yuna," Yuna corrects automatically through suddenly numb lips. "My name's Yuna." The hated schoolyard nickname—insult—has no place in the here and now. There's a tiny crumb of comfort in the realisation that Shane has named his baby after her—though why he hasn't told her that the child exists is still a question that knifes through her like a torment—but this stupid girl can't even get that much right.
"That must be confusing," Maddy says kindly.
Yuna wants to choke that sympathetic look right off Maddy’s face. She wants to ask how old Shane's baby is, who her mother is, how on earth Shane has kept her existence a secret even this long, and why he thinks a ditzy maybe-college student is an appropriate person to care for Yuna's grandchild, but the burning humiliation of it all enables her to keep her silence until she has regrouped enough to say, "I'm going to enter my son's apartment now, and then I'd like you to show me the baby, please."
"Of course," Maddy says, and turns around to enter the door code on the keypad.
"I know the door code," Yuna reminds her through bared teeth. She doesn't quite push Maddy aside, but Yuna is still the one who winds up using the door code, opening the door and going in first.
Shane's apartment looks much as it always does. There's none of the paraphernalia that usually betrays a baby's presence to be seen. In fact, there's nothing new. Nothing except that… Oh. My. God.
Yuna can hear the capital letters in her own head.
A cat tree. A ridiculously huge cat tree. Over there, blocking the light from the window. It's exactly the sort of cat tree that Shane would buy after spending too much time trying to decide on the right one. If he ever had a cat. Which he… doesn't?
"I'll just go get Tuna," Maddy says, heading quickly for the stairs. And yes, she's said Tuna again, like she's confident that's the baby's name.
"Maddy," Yuna says.
Maddy stops and turns to face her, feet shuffling nervously on the stairs. "Yes, Mrs Hollander?"
"Shane is employing you through an agency, right?"
"Yeah, Pawfect Pet Friends. Maybe you've heard of them?"
"No, but I'll keep them in mind if I ever need a pet sitter," Yuna says carefully, and then makes a point of smiling at Maddy.
If anything, Yuna's smile only serves to make Maddy even more nervous. She nods, says, "I'll be right back with the kitten," and flees the rest of the way up the stairs.
Well.
Yuna makes her way over to Shane's modular sofa and sits down. Heavily.
Shane has a cat. A kitten. Not a child. Or a girlfriend, either. Apparently.
Maybe Yuna didn't just make a complete fool of herself. Maybe she managed to wriggle out of it right at the end there, but she's put the fear of God—or Yuna—into that poor girl.
There's a couple of large books sitting in a haphazard pile on the end of the sofa. Textbooks, by the look of them. So: Maddy is a cash-strapped student who makes a little money pet-sitting.
It makes perfect sense. All of it. Except for the part where Shane didn't tell her that he even wanted a cat.
Why wouldn't he? And why didn't he at least tell her about his kitten the last time they spoke? He organised the cat minder last week, so he's either had the kitten or known he was going to get the kitten for at least that long.
Not for the first time, she wonders when and how Shane got so closed off from her. She didn't realise it was happening, not really, until they wound up where they are now, on opposite sides of an invisible barrier.
She has no idea how to breach it.
Yuna glances up at the sound of Maddy descending the stairs with Shane's cat and… no, not a cat. Not yet. That's definitely a kitten in her arms, a tiny scrap of multi-coloured fluff.
"Have you met Tuna?" Maddy asks as she arrives in front of Yuna. She's still looking a little wild around the eyes, a little nervous, but she sounds more sure of herself now she's dealing with the kitten—doing the job she's paid to do. "Shane said he found her last week, so I guess maybe you haven't."
"No, I haven't met Tuna before," Yuna says. Tuna, not Yuna. Not a mistake or a joke, or not one at Yuna's expense. Not even a planned pet. Shane found her, and rescued her. Of course he did.
"Would you like to hold her?" Maddy asks, but it's really only a perfunctory question, because she's holding the kitten out to Yuna as if she expects her to take it.
So Yuna does.
It's not a success. The kitten squeaks in a way that does not sound positive. It squirms in her grasp and then squirms out of her grasp, and drops into Yuna's lap. It doesn't stay there, but immediately shinnies up the front of Yuna's business jacket and—oh God—is it going to get tangled in her hair?
Yuna reaches for it, but Maddy is already there, plucking the kitten off her and then tucking it under one arm as she carefully unhooks one last, recalcitrant claw.
"I think it knows I'm not a cat person," Yuna half-jokes.
"Both of my parents love cats," Maddy says. "Not being a cat person wasn't really an option, growing up."
"My father was allergic, so it was the opposite for me," Yuna says, not really sure why she's confiding in this young woman, except that the kitten—Shane's kitten—is still right here, now, and will continue to be here whenever Yuna visits in future.
"I can show you, if you like," Maddy offers. "Hold her firmly against your chest so she can feel your heart beating, and just pet her gently, like this." She demonstrates, and then hands the kitten back to Yuna without waiting to hear if Yuna 'would like'.
Yuna does better this time. Maddy's advice works like magic. Yuna is even rewarded with a soft purr.
"Come, sit, and talk to me," Yuna says.
Maddy sits, and Yuna proceeds to interrogate her, but only very gently, while continuing to pet the purring kitten. It's sort of nice. Weirdly relaxing.
Yuna gets to work.
"What are you studying?" she asks, nodding towards the pile of textbooks.
"Kinesiology—that's the science of human movement—at McGill."
"Oh, that's my alma mater!" Yuna exclaims. "I met my husband there. He was on the hockey team—no real surprise there, I guess." She smiles encouragingly. "And so you got talking to Shane about exercise?"
"Yes," Maddy says, suddenly all enthusiasm, and she launches into something perilously close to being a monologue about the importance of not just exercising regularly but understanding which types of exercise to focus on and why. Yuna can see exactly why Shane employed this girl: obsessive about exercise and good with cats. And blonde, of course.
But the last of the suspicion-fed tension loosens its grip between her shoulder blades a minute or two later when Yuna also learns that Maddy is in a relationship with a woman. Her girlfriend is currently doing her Master's at the University of Toronto.
"Long distance isn't easy," Yuna says. "The year my husband started his first job with the government in Ottawa while I was finishing off my degree here in Montreal was probably the hardest year of my life."
"That's what Shane said, too," Maddy says.
"Really? I'm surprised he remembers being told about that."
"No, I mean, well, he didn't mention you or his dad. He just said that long distance relationships are really hard."
"He did?" Yuna asks, but immediately thinks: Rose Landry. Shane must have been thinking of Rose when he said that, right? But maybe not. It could be anyone. Shane travels all over North America during the season. It's the life of any professional hockey player. He could have had someone in any city that has a team, at any time over… well, at least the past several years. Once, Yuna would have been certain that her son would never hide something like that from her, but now… She simply doesn't know.
Maddy shrugs. "It was just something he said in passing. We talked for a while before he offered me the job."
Yuna's about to ask about Maddy's pet-sitting experience, when the pet that's responsible for this entire situation abruptly makes its presence felt. With a sudden loud squeak—of outrage? Of unhappiness? Of feline orneriness?—Tuna wriggles out of Yuna's hands and ascends the front of her jacket like a small, furry mountain climber until she gains her shoulder. She perches there, and presses her little body in against Yuna's neck.
Yuna manages not to let out the sort of noise that she would dearly like to. Instead, she tells Maddy through gritted teeth, "Please get her off me."
"Of course," Maddy says at once, and then she's there, extricating her from that little… Tuna before she can start trying to nest in Yuna's hair. "I'll take her back upstairs," she assures Yuna.
"Thank you," Yuna says, "but before you do. Let me just…" She reaches into her bag for her phone and holds it up to take a quick snap of Shane's kitten.
"All done?" Maddy asks.
"Yes, take her away, please," Yuna says firmly.
Maddy takes the kitten away with such well-practised efficiency that there's really no need for Yuna to bother asking about reviews from previous clients. Plus, Shane would have looked into those very thoroughly already. So really Yuna has gotten all that she needs to get out of Maddy.
She considers the picture she took a moment ago. The kitten looks impossibly cute and innocent. Yuna wants to text it to Shane with a single word: explain. But he's not the teenager that he was when he was drafted, when he still truly needed her. He's a grown man, with a life that does not always include his mother.
She sends the picture anyway, but the text that accompanies it is—she hopes—more amused than demanding. At least, she hopes that's how Shane will view it—whenever he actually views it.
Whenever he remembers to look at his damned phone and take it off silent.
Whenever he's finally done with whatever is distracting him from his phone at 2:00 in the afternoon on a game day.
~*~
Ilya's phone rings, cutting through the easy silence that is just beginning to settle between them. Shane watches, trying not to be obvious, as Ilya grabs the phone, sees the name of the caller on the screen, and declines the call. He lets out a sound—frustration? Annoyance?—as he falls back against the pillows. The easiness is gone, replaced by tension. Not tension between them, Shane is pretty sure. They've already spent some time banishing that in the best way possible. But it's all there for him to read on Ilya's face, and in the lines of his body, in a way that Shane's never been able to do with anybody else.
"My brother," Ilya says in explanation, glancing at Shane.
Shane tells Ilya to take the call if he wants. He knows he has to tread carefully—Ilya is letting Shane in closer than he ever would have, before Tampa, just by the admission that that was his brother on the phone—but somehow he still winds up asking what Ilya deems to be "Enough questions. You have too many of them." It's okay, though—Ilya literally says that, in a way he wouldn't have six months ago—less than that—before… everything—and then Shane changes the topic of conversation in a way that he wouldn't have—couldn't have—six months ago. It ends up with Ilya shouting that Shane Hollander is an asshole, like it's some sort of arena announcement. Shane has to wrestle him into the sheets then. He really has no choice when Ilya is beside him in bed, looking like that, and…
Well. It's well past 2:00 and closer to 2:30 by the time they surface again. Ilya's phone takes the opportunity to start ringing once more and this time Shane doesn't ask when Ilya doesn't take the call.
Instead, all Shane says is, "I'd better check my phone." And that's when he discovers the texts from his mom, who is, unexpectedly, in Montreal today and- "Oh, shit."
"What? Everything is okay?" Ilya asks at once. He clasps Shane's hand loosely and rubs the base of Shane's thumb with his own in slow, gentle strokes.
"Oh, yeah. It's fine. Mostly. Just my mom."
"And?" Ilya says, raising his eyebrows expectantly.
"She's at my apartment."
"And this is a problem, why? She has been there before, when you are away?"
Shane feels like he's the one who should be saying "too many questions" right about now, but instead he turns his phone around and wordlessly holds it out so that Ilya can see. The screen shows the last text he received from his mom. It's a picture of Tuna, looking very pleased with herself while being held by Maddy the pet sitter. The caption says: Imagine my surprise.
"You didn't tell her?"
"Questions. You have too many," Shane tries, with a little grin, but Ilya's not having any of it.
"You concealed the existence of that kitten? Again?" Ilya looks at him askance, like he can't quite believe it.
"Not on purpose! Mom wasn't supposed to be in Montreal before I got back from this roadie. I was going to introduce her to Tuna the next time she was there."
"You couldn't just send her a text?"
Shane's not quite sure why Ilya's taking his mom's side in this. Okay, well maybe he's sure. It still doesn't make it fair. Very deliberately, he sets his phone down on the nightstand.
"No, I couldn't," he says. "My mom's never had a pet. She gets sort of weird about them, so I thought it would be easier just to show her rather than get into a whole conversation about why."
"Something tells me you were never going to avoid that conversation," Ilya mutters, with a certain satisfaction that is totally uncalled for.
"You don't even know my mom."
"I know enough."
"Enough to know what?"
"Enough to know that you're going to have that conversation." Ilya leans back into the pillows, a tiny, exceptionally annoying smile playing on his lips.
Shane throws a pillow at him. "I bet I don't have to worry about her accusing me of seeing another mom!"
Ilya catches the pillow easily, and tosses it onto the floor, but the look on his face promises retribution. The next moment, he's pushed the covers back and is straddling Shane, strong hands pinning his wrists to the mattress. Shane makes a feeble attempt at throwing Ilya off of him, but they both know it's only for show, and anyway he's grinning too much for either of them to take it seriously.
"And yet still you do not send her a text," Ilya says, staring down at Shane consideringly, like he's plotting his next move.
"I'd text her back, but there seems to be an impediment." Shane wriggles his trapped fingers as much as he can—which isn't much, but still more than enough for Ilya to notice.
A slow smile blooms on Ilya's lips and he leans in closer. So close. Not quite close enough. "Is not an impediment to everything," he murmurs. "Not if you try hard enough."
"Asshole," Shane says as he pushes himself up on his elbows as much as he can—not much—as he strains to close the last tiny bit of distance between them.
"Is there anyone else?" Ilya asks, and now he's almost conversational. Almost.
"What?" Shane asks, brows creasing in a puzzled frown. He thought he already answered that question when Ilya turned up outside his apartment in the middle of the night last week.
"Is there anyone else you have neglected to tell about your kitten? That is what we were talking about, is it not?"
"We were talking about impediments." Shane strains harder, his lips chasing Ilya's and almost, almost capturing them.
"And your kitten. Answer the question." Ilya pulls back, just out of Shane's reach.
Shane rolls his eyes. "Geez, do you ever let up?" he asks, but he answers the question. "Uh, just my dad, I guess, but Mom will tell him. Oh, and Hayden and Jackie and the kids. Maybe JJ."
"That's it?"
"Yeah? Nobody else really visits my apartment—apart from the cleaning service and they already know, obviously—so nobody else needs to be told about Tuna."
"So that's it," Ilya says, and for some unfathomable reason his smile is not calculating any more but bright and clear.
Shane is about to ask about that, too, but then Ilya is leaning in close and kissing him hard, and Shane should really be going but he doesn't absolutely have to be out of here until 2:45…
~*~
Shane leaves Ilya's house at something close to 2:55pm. The Uber driver taps his fingers on the steering wheel as Shane gets in. And yeah, of course Shane will give him a good tip as compensation for keeping him waiting. He pulls out his phone as soon as the car door closes behind him and texts his mom.
Shane: I see you've met your grandkitten
Mom starts typing within seconds.
Mom: I have, though I wouldn't call her a GRANDkitten exactly. She seems very strong willed.
Shane’s not sure why being strong willed is the dealbreaker here. He almost asks Mom if she's met herself.
Shane: You don't think she's cute?
Mom: She's a kitten. Of course she's cute.
Shane: I'm sorry you found out about tuna like this. I was planning on introducing her to you next week
Mom: Your life is your life, Shane. Of course you should get a pet if you want. I just would have appreciated knowing that there was someone staying in your apartment while you were away.
Shane: Yeah, sorry. I just didn't expect you to be in Montreal this week
Mom: I know I took you by surprise. Well, I took poor Maddy by surprise.
Mom: I'm just saying that you don't need to hide things from me, honey. I support your choices even if I don't necessarily understand them.
Shane stares at that last message a long time before replying.
~*~
Boston wins the game that night, despite Shane's two goals.
Shane cannot allow anything to mess with his game day routine in future, especially on days when they're up against Boston.
Either that, or he'll just have to make sure that he beats Ily- that Montreal beats Boston next time they play, regardless of what might happen in the hours before the game. And regardless of what might—will—happen after.
It's only what happens during the game that matters.
~*~
Three days later…
"I want to go first!"
"No, me!"
"Meeeeee, Daddy!"
"One at a time! And no yelling or Uncle Shane won't bring his kitten downstairs and nobody will get to pat it!" Hayden says firmly, looking from one daughter to the other and back again.
"Her, Daddy," Jade corrects.
"What?" says Hayden, brow furrowing with more than usual puzzlement.
"She's a girl kitty, so she's a her."
"Yes, that's true," Hayden says, nodding. "Now everybody wait quietly so that we can all get a turn meeting her."
Jackie grins from across the room, where she's ensconced comfortably on Shane's L-shaped modular sofa, her aching feet propped up on a foot stool in front of her. The kids have been beyond excited since they found out about Shane's kitten. Hayden, less so. He really shouldn't have mentioned it—her—anywhere they might overhear, but it's way too late now. At least he's stopped the girls from trying to climb on Shane's mind-bogglingly enormous cat tree as if it's a jungle gym in a playground. They'd taken one look at it and been drawn to it like iron filings to a magnet. That heroic action deserves some sort of reward.
Taking pity on him, she raises her mom voice and says, "Jade and Ruby, come sit over here with me. You can both-"
Shane chooses that moment to appear at the top of the stairs, kitten nestled in the crook of his elbow.
Ruby screeches in excitement and Hayden screws his eyes closed for a second, a deeply pained expression on his face. "Maybe just a few decibels lower next time, hey Rubes," he says, holding a hand to his ear.
"Ow!" Shane exclaims, grabbing at the kitten, who has scrambled out of his arms at the sudden noise, and is doing her very best to disappear over his shoulder. Shane wins their brief tussle, detaching her tiny claws from his shirt one by one, and settling her back in his arms against his chest. "Nobody make any loud noises," he says, sounding very serious. "We don't want Tuna to get scared." He puts a finger to his lips as he comes the rest of the way down the stairs.
"Yes, Uncle Shane," Ruby and Jade promise in unison, followed half a beat later by Arthur's soft little voice.
The look on Hayden's face is long-suffering as he herds the kids over to the sofa. The girls plop down on either side of him, on the side of the L diagonally opposite Jackie. Arthur waits a little way back, uncertainty written all over him, until Shane seats himself on the end of the sofa with the kitten in his lap and beckons for Arthur to sit between him and Jackie.
Watching Arthur's smile as Shane helps him up onto the sofa, and puts a supporting arm around him, melts Jackie's heart just like it always does.
"So, this is Tuna," Shane says. "Would you like to pat her, Arthur?"
Arthur nods mutely, and Shane picks up Tuna in his free hand and places her carefully in Arthur's lap.
It's too much for Ruby. "Why does Aaaaarthur get to go first?" she asks loudly, and her bottom lip wobbles dangerously.
"Because it's his turn," Hayden says. "You'll get your turn in just a moment."
"But the kitty's so-" Ruby says, at about the same volume as before.
"Ruby," Hayden says, making a downward motion with his hand.
"Cuuuuuute," Ruby finishes in a loud whisper.
"It will still be cute when it's your turn," Hayden says.
"She, Daddy. Tuna's a girl," Jade reminds him.
"She is the cat's mother," Hayden mutters, channelling his grandmother, and then quickly adds, "Yes, that's right, Jade. Now let's all be quiet again so we don't scare her."
On the other side of the sofa, Shane is quietly—at least someone is familiar with the meaning of the word—encouraging Arthur. "Just like this, not very hard," he says, demonstrating with a couple of large, hockey player fingers.
Arthur copies him exactly, with two much, much smaller fingers. Tuna looks up at Arthur intently, but she doesn't shrink away from his touch.
"Soffff," Arthur says, very softly.
"Yes, her fur is very soft. You can use all of your hand to stroke her, if you want," Shane says.
The look on Arthur's face says he'd prefer clearer instructions.
"Use your hand like this," Shane continues, not missing a beat as he cups Tuna's head with the palm of his hand and strokes very gently down her back. Shane may not be the best at reading nuance in most people, but he's never had any trouble interpreting Arthur's every expression.
Arthur, beaming, does as Shane says.
Tuna starts to purr, loud enough for Jackie to hear clearly from several feet away.
Arthur gasps, his mouth forming an O of surprise.
"She's purring. That means she's happy, and that she likes you," Shane tells him.
Arthur continues patting Tuna for a little while longer, and then it's finally Ruby's turn. Jackie heaves an inward sigh of relief just as Hayden heaves an outward one. Their eyes meet and they exchange weary smiles. It's one of the nicest things about being married to the right person, that silent understanding, and something that hardly anyone tells you about in advance.
Or maybe most people don't experience this, and Jackie and Hayden are simply just that lucky.
Something makes Jackie look over at Shane then, and she wonders the same thing she's been wondering for over a week now.
She gets the chance to put her wondering into words a little while later, once all three kids have spent some time petting Tuna and cooing over her, and once Tuna—mewing in panic for Shane to rescue her when all the attention starts to overwhelm her—is returned safely to her room.
Hayden takes the kids over to the kitchen to hand out sandwiches and juice, and get them settled. Shane is about to follow and help out when Jackie touches his hand.
He looks at her, eyebrows raised in a silent question.
"Hayden can manage lunch for the kids," she says. "I thought maybe we could have a quick chat."
"Yeeess," Shane says, suddenly all wariness, but he sits back down beside her.
"It's nothing bad!" Jackie says, with her most reassuring smile. "I was just wondering about that night last week, when we gave your address to Lily."
If anything, Shane looks even more wary, but he says, "Like I told Hayden, it's fine. I understand why you did what you did. If anyone was at fault, it was Lily." He rubs the heels of his hands into his eyes and then drags his fingers the rest of the way down his face.
It's a self-conscious action, but Jackie's not sure he's fully conscious that he's doing it.
"I just wanted to say, I hope everything worked out okay. That night? With Lily? She said she needed to talk."
"Uh, yeah," Shane says. "We talked. Cleared the air about a few things."
"And she stayed over," Jackie states.
"Um, yeah, she did."
Jackie watches in fascination as the heat flushes up Shane's neck and into his face. She reaches out to pat his knee. "I'm glad," she says simply. "That things worked out. That you're happy—I hope!"
Shane looks down at his hands, which are clasped in his lap, and examines them as if they belong to someone else. "I hadn't really thought about it like that before," he says. "But yeah. I'm happy when… when I'm with her."
Something that doesn't happen nearly often enough, Jackie realises with a pang. How often do they see each other? Last week was the first time Lily has ever visited Shane here in Montreal, so do they usually only see each other when Shane has a game in Boston? Just twice a year? Or do they meet up elsewhere in between?
Jackie has so many questions, and she can't ask a single one of them. She searches around for something that she can say, and finally settles on: "I'm not going to ask if she'd like to be an official WAG—I know how private you two are!—but I am going to issue an invitation to dinner. For both of you. If and when you're ready."
Shane looks up. "That might be never. It probably will be never. I don't see how…" He looks down at his hands again. "It's complicated."
Jackie laughs. "I'd already worked out that much, Shane," she says. "But I'm glad you felt able to give her Hayden's number. We're here for you, you know. Whenever you need us."
Shane looks up, again, meets her eyes, if only fleetingly, and almost smiles. "Thanks, Jackie. You're good friends. Both of you."
"I've got a good listening ear, too, if you ever need to talk," Jackie says. "My brother says that sometimes, for some things, it's easier to talk to a woman than a man."
"I don't think it matters. I've never been that good at talking, to anyone." Shane breathes out the last word on a sigh and looks up at the ceiling for a moment.
"No pressure!" Jackie says at once. "It's a standing offer, that's all. Just like that dinner invitation."
"I'll keep that in mind."
From anyone else, those would be empty words, a platitude used as a gentle brush off. But Shane being Shane, he might just actually mean them.
"I-" Jackie begins, before being drowned out by the familiar thunder of multiple small feet racing across the room to her.
"Mommy!" Ruby says, always the first to arrive anywhere. "Can we have a kitten?"
"A girl kitten. Like Uncle Shane's kitten!" Jade puts in, arriving on her twin's heels.
"Daddy said 'maybe'." That's Ruby again, jumping up and down.
"Kitty!" Arthur says, and breaks into a smile.
"Maybe?" Jackie gives Hayden a very particular look as he joins them.
"I didn't mean- I mean I- You know I meant to say no." Hayden's protest is so heartfelt that Jackie can't help but smile. Oh yes, she knows.
"I think we'd better talk about this after we go home," she says.
"Yeah, good idea. We should probably- Ruby, no. I told you before. Not the cat tree!" Hayden yells as he takes off after her.
"I should probably dismantle that thing," Shane observes, biting down on the first real smile Jackie's seen on his face since he showed Arthur the best way to stroke a kitten. "Tuna isn't interested in it, and, well…"
They watch as Hayden catches up to Ruby just before she reaches the cat tree, swinging her up into his arms and then around and around in circles. Ruby giggles at the new game and throws her arms around his neck.
"Maybe keep it for just a little while longer," Jackie says, all the love she feels coalescing into a hot lump of emotion in her chest, somewhere right by her heart, as she watches her husband and her child just happily being together.
"Maybe just a little while," Shane agrees, looking between Jackie and Hayden and Ruby.
He doesn't say anything more, but Jackie feels the lack of the person who isn't there, the person Shane loves, as clearly as if he'd spoken her name.
~*~
They're back home and it's late afternoon by the time Jackie has a moment to herself again. It's a minor miracle, only made possible by the fact that Hayden is delaying his post-practice work-out to wrangle the kids, and doesn't have a game today. He worries about her, she knows. More than he needs to. This pregnancy feels different than her first one, when she was right out of her depth and expecting twins, and different again from how difficult things were all the way along with Arthur. This time, it feels like her body has finally worked out how to handle being pregnant.
So yeah, Jackie isn't worrying about herself too much right now. But she is worried about Shane. He so clearly wants more from Lily—with Lily—than he feels he's able to ask for, for whatever reason. But Lily came to Montreal to talk to Shane in person without even knowing his address when she set out. That's not the action of someone who doesn't care.
Shane won't talk to Jackie. She's not surprised about that. She knew his answer would be no even before she made the offer, but she had to try.
Sometimes, for some things, it's easier to talk to a woman than a man.
If that's true for a guy, it goes double for a woman. It's easier to talk to another woman when you're unsure about a romantic relationship. Well, it's easier for Jackie to talk to a woman, but Jackie doesn't know if Lily has the sort of close female friendships that have always come easily to her.
The least Jackie can do is make the offer, just like she did with Shane.
She gets out her phone, finds the contact she shared from Hayden's phone days ago, and starts a new text thread.
Jackie: Hi Lily, this is jackie, hayden pike's wife
Jackie: I was there when you texted him last week
Jackie: I just wanted to reach out, in case you felt like chatting but it's fine if you'd rather not
There's no response. Jackie isn't sure why she expected one. Lily's been so mysterious and intentionally unknowable all these years, and she's deviated from that just once, when she needed information that only Hayden could provide. Of course she has no interest in chatting with Jackie.
She's in the act of putting her phone down, and readying to haul herself up out of her chair to go in search of Hayden and the kids, when she spots the texting bubbles out of the corner of her eyes. She grips the phone tightly and watches as the bubbles give way to words.
Lily: Hello Jackie Pike.
Lily: Yes, let's chat.
Lily: Why not