On the Surface (In the Zone) (23 page)

“It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart. Don’t faint on me.” His voice boomed from the speakers.

She gave a nervous laugh. More spectators were paying attention now. Some of them laughed too.

He pulled a note card out of his breast pocket.

“Erin. I thought the day I met you was the best day of my life. I was wrong.” He smiled at her. “The next day was even better. And the day after that. And the day after that.”

Tears filled her eyes and she pressed her lips together. This wasn’t happening. She was not in the middle of the Blackhawks’ arena with tens of thousands of eyes on her. She was back in her bed in San Diego channeling her inner Dorothy Gale and soon she’d wake up and have to go to work. She’d have to change catheters, placate unreasonable parents and drink bad coffee.

“Every day I’m with you, my life gets better and better. I love you.”

Some type of music was playing, but all she heard was Tim’s voice.

“I love you and I want to marry you.”

He got down on one knee and she heard a collective sigh and one high scream. Feeling like she was watching a rom-com movie, she blubbered like a baby, the tears streaming down her face surely making her look hideous. She was not a pretty crier.

He pulled out a small box from his pocket. Again, she swiped at her eyes as he held it up to her in supplication.

“I—I hope that’s not a house key,” she stammered.

He grinned and shook his head slowly as he opened the box to reveal a diamond ring that dazzled her.

“Erin Collier, would you please do me the honor of marrying me?”

The music cut out and a hush fell over the crowd. Her vision blurred. She couldn’t draw a decent breath.

She nodded. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

“The Wedding March” blasted out of the speakers. Tim surged to his feet and she shrieked when he grabbed her and spun her around until she was dizzy. After sliding the ring on her finger, he scooped her up in his arms and took a victory lap. Some of the Blackhawks had ventured back out to the bench and were rapping their sticks against the boards in a hockey salute, and a cheer rose. She waved at the crowd, dazed and delirious, and the applause shook the building as he kissed her.

Chapter Thirty-One

Tim hadn’t felt euphoria, exaltation and excitement like this since he hoisted the Stanley Cup over his head in 2013. Erin was his. She’d agreed to marry him. He’d taken a hell of a chance. They’d only met a few months ago. She’d been wary and watchful since they’d met. He’d had to take the lead from day one, which was fine. He had no problem going on offense. After all, that was his job.

Back at their seats, before the horn blast signaling the beginning of the next period, well-wishers crowded around, shaking hands, slapping backs, sloshing beer. He and Erin watched the remainder of the game, hands clasped tightly or arms intertwined. If he’d thought things through more, he’d have arranged for them to be alone in a room with a bed shortly after the proposal. He desperately wanted to make love to her, to show her with his body how much he wanted to make her happy. As it was, he’d just have to be patient.

During one of the interludes when the ice crew came out to remove snow that had built up, the kiss cam got busy, singling out couples so the crowd could watch them smooch. Tonight, they cut back to Tim and Erin literally every other time. The audience loved it. Cheers rose every time their faces appeared on the huge screen. Tim appreciated any chance to kiss Erin. Comfortable being on camera, he hammed it up while Erin seemed to want to hide.

After the game, he and Erin flagged down a cab that would bring them to his parents’ house. He handed the driver the bag that held his street clothes and skates then opened the door for Erin. Inside the warm taxi, it was a relief to get away from the clamor of the arena. He slung an arm over the back of the seat, but Erin didn’t move into the open space like he’d expected. He wondered why.

He said the first thing that popped into his head. “Do you like the ring?”

“Tim, the ring is spectacular,” she said. “It’s beautiful. I love it.”

In the darkness he couldn’t make out her expression, but her tone didn’t scream
this ring is the fucking bomb.

“I really do love it. It’s beautiful. It’s huge.” She lifted her left hand, fingers spread. The brilliant stone flashed.

“You have small hands,” he said defensively. “It’s only one-and-half carats. All those little diamonds around the big stone make it look bigger.”

She fell silent. It was only now that she slid closer to him. That small gesture made him feel marginally better, but not much. Because if she liked the ring, then he could only think of two other explanations for her weird behavior.

The first explanation—that she didn’t really want to marry him—stopped him cold. It felt like someone filled his stomach with ice while someone else jammed a sharp stick into his heart. Maybe she only said yes because she didn’t want to humiliate him in front of seventeen thousand people. Maybe she was trying right now to think of a way to tell him that. Now that he thought about it, she’d been reserved all during the second and third periods. He’d never attended a hockey game with her before—he was always busy playing—but he would have expected her to be more engaged in the action, especially when two players dropped their gloves right in front of them. And the Kiss Cam thing, in hindsight, he could see she’d been less than enthusiastic.

Well fuck, he couldn’t go there. Wouldn’t go there.

The other explanation was that she was embarrassed by the grandiosity of what he’d done. That, he could deal with. He could make up for that mistake, if that’s what the problem was.

He’d honestly thought she would enjoy such a grand gesture. He’d envisioned her going back to the hospital bubbling over with eagerness to share what had happened. Her single friends would ooh and ahh, and none of her married friends would have a story that would top hers. His own decision to go big or go home had been motivated by a desire to win The Game of Great Proposals. From what he’d read online—aside from the Muppet Proposal—the only one that even came close was the Broadway actor who, after the curtain call, proposed to his girlfriend who had been sitting in the front row. Fuck that shit. How big could that theatre have been? Not bigger than the United Center, that was for damn sure.

But now, seeing Erin so quiet, he felt like a shitheel for assuming she’d be okay with being made a spectacle of.

Nothing left to do but grovel.

“So, I’m getting that it was too much,” he finally said on a hard exhale.

She started and pulled back to look up at him. “What are you talking about?”

“The red carpet, the announcer, the crowd, everything. It was overkill. Like wearing a tux to a coffee date,” he said, aiming for levity when he felt something more like nausea.

She gave him a confused smile. “No, it was amazing.”

He scoffed. “Riiiight.”

“No, really.” She shifted even farther away, but only so she could cup his face. God, that gentle touch. He fucking needed that like a tree needed rain. “Tim, it was the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me. I’m just...sort of in shock, that’s all.”

The cabbie pulled over to the curb and retrieved the bag from the trunk. Tim paid him and the taxi drove away. She kept saying everything was fine, but fine wasn’t going to cut it. He wanted fine on a cosmic scale, damn it. Tim faced Erin on the sidewalk with the bag at his feet. Erin shivered, her hands deep in the pockets of her new coat.

“So I need to know one thing before we go inside...do you regret saying yes?” He forced himself to ask that question even though it felt as if he had shards of glass in his mouth. It was a hell of a lot harder question to get out than “Will you marry me?”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “What? No! NO. Oh my God, is that what you’re thinking?” She stamped her feet on the pavement and hugged herself. “I don’t feel any regret at all. Ask me to marry you again and you’ll get the same answer I gave you before. Yes. Yes. A million times yes.”

This time he heard her conviction and relief flooded him. He felt as if he’d just been let out of prison.

“Then why are you being so quiet?” Now that his worst fears had been extinguished, he could delve deeper. “Come here and get warm.”

He opened his coat and after she dove in, he closed it around her and pulled her close. Warily, he glanced at the door of his parents’ house. No one had noticed them yet, thank goodness.

Leaning in to him, she sighed. “I...It’s hard to explain. It didn’t seem real. I felt like it was happening to someone else, like I was watching a movie.” He felt a slight tug on his tie as she smoothed her hand over it. “An incredibly romantic movie.” She smiled up at him briefly. “Those kinds of things don’t happen to people like me. I expected to marry somebody ordinary, you know? And you’re anything,
anything
but.”

Now he understood. She still couldn’t believe he would choose her over some other more glamorous woman. He needed to convince her once and for all that she was everything he’d ever wanted and a lot he’d never thought to want.

“And if I’m a little quiet,” she went on, “it’s just because it just feels like any second now, you’re going to realize you made a mistake and—”

“Hey.” He stopped her cold. “Listen to me. Do you know now much I love hockey?”

She nodded. “More than life.”

“Yes. I knew I wanted to play for a living by the time I was eleven, after my first season in the peewee leagues. By then I’d been playing six years. I knew I loved you after a week. Asking you to marry me was not a mistake. I can live without hockey. I
will
live without hockey eventually. But I
can’t
live without you. Not for more than a few days at a time. I’ve seriously thought about trying to get you a job with the team so you could travel with us.”

“Tim...”

“We’ll talk about that later. My point is, I want you on my team. Team Tim. Marriage is my way of locking you into a lifetime contract. The reason I popped the question so soon is because if I don’t marry you now, some other guy with a job that doesn’t keep him away four months out of the year will snap you up. Or some guy who comes home without bruises and cuts and aches and pains. I’m serious. I worry about this stuff. Being married to me isn’t going to be a walk in the park.”

“I c-c-could say the same thing,” she said, her teeth chattering together now. “I have long and crazy hours.”

“I don’t care.”

“I will probably drive you insane, nagging you about your health or interrogating you about what the d-d-doctors are doing and saying when you get hurt.”

“You’ll only be doing it because you love me.”

He raised one eyebrow. “You still love me, don’t you?”

“Of course, I do.”

“Say it, then.” His voice got rough. He all of a sudden needed to hear her say it. “Please.”

She swallowed. She looked up at him and met his gaze. “I love you, Tim Hollander. I do love you. I love you and I want to marry you.” Her voice broke and she made an urgent noise as she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him hard. Though startled, he kissed her back. Her lips were cold. He thrust his tongue into her mouth and held her probably more tightly than he should have. Somehow his hand found its way to her soft, round ass. He was well on his way to being fully hard when a whistle of appreciation split the air. A burst of applause followed.

Startled, they broke apart, Erin wriggling out of his arms and covering her mouth with her hand. Tim looked to see his entire family gathered on the front porch, clapping and smiling. Tim laughed and, closing his coat, he exchanged a rueful glance with Erin. Her cheeks were bright red, probably as much from the cold as from embarrassment. He took her hand and walked toward the steps and his feet didn’t feel like they were touching the ground at all.

* * *

Inside the Hollander house, they shed their coats. Erin appreciated the warmth and hoped Tim never got traded from San Diego to a city that had actual winters with snow and everything. She preferred snow to be a destination, not an inevitability. Tim’s boyhood home was cozy and comfortable, a place where even though the furnishings and general decor seemed current, Erin could feel and see the Hollander family had lived and thrived here many years. Now she felt silly for having been so nervous. She should have trusted Tim when he said they would love her. She could feel that love so tangibly it felt like she already shared their last name.

Hugs and noisy cheek kissing ensued until Sharon started herding them toward the dining room.

“Why don’t we have dessert?” she said.

Rachel grabbed Tim’s hand and pulled. “I get to sit by Uncle Dim.”

Erin raised an eyebrow at him, but he shrugged.

“What can I say? Women love me.”

Sharon had everything set up: dessert plates, silverware, mugs and two yummy-looking pumpkin pies with a big mounds of whipped cream on top.

“Coffee, anyone? I have regular and decaf,” Sharon said. “Milk for you, Rach.”

“Decaf, please,” Stephanie said, holding out one of the cups.

“Me too, thanks,” Erin said. “Tim and I have to be at the airport at seven tomorrow. I need all the sleep I can get.”

Once everyone had pie and coffee, Sharon got down to business, just like Tim had predicted. “So, Erin, did you have any idea Tim was going to pop the question?”

“I had no idea. That whole spectacle was a complete surprise.”

She saw Tim’s chest puff up with pride. “I can be sneaky when I want to,” he said.

“Had you even discussed marriage?” Sharon asked. “How long have you been going out?”

“Not very long. A couple months, maybe,” Erin answered. “And we hadn’t discussed anything except...couplehood. That’s a new word I just made up, by the way.”

“Being the sneaky type, Tim probably meant marriage but made it seem like he was only talking about couplehood,” Stephanie said.

“You’re probably right,” Erin said. Tim grinned, looking slightly smug.

His dad coughed. “Did you go to Tiffany, son?”

“Yes, sir,” Tim answered. “Didn’t even consider going somewhere else. They’re the ones who made the championship rings for the Kings in 2012.”

She chuckled. Of course having made a set of Stanley Cup rings would be a requirement for Tim’s choice of jeweler.

“Good boy,” his dad said as Erin submitted to a ring examination by his mom and sister. Stephanie gave him a nod of approval. The bright platinum band fit her finger perfectly. It really was stunning, simple in its design and it flashed like no engagement ring she’d ever seen, except maybe Claire’s. He’d done an excellent job. And Tiffany! She’d never had anything from Tiffany before. She’d never even seen one of their stores. Looking at her ring, the foggy shock she’d felt ever since Tim knelt on the ice finally seemed to lift. Tentatively, she began to accept and even enjoy her new reality. He truly did love her. He had his pick of women, but he chose her. She was living the dream.

“We need to toast the happy couple,” his dad said.

“I agree.” Dan held up a bottle-shaped paper bag.

While his mom got out champagne flutes, his dad went on about how a man could always count on quality and style if he went to Tiffany.

Tim picked up the bottle, prepared to rip off the foil and uncork it, but hesitated. “Hey, this isn’t champagne.”

Leaning forward, Dan rested his forearms on the table. He had a weird grin on his face. “You’re right. What is it, honey?” Dan asked his daughter.

“It’s sparkling apple cider!”

“Because...” Dan prompted.

Suddenly, everything clicked for Erin—Dan’s worry at the game that Stephanie might tumble down the stairs, her reluctance to drink beer, and preference for decaf with her pie. It all added up.

“Mom’s going to have a baby!” Rachel cried.

Sharon clapped her hands, her face beaming. There was another round of joyful hugs, congratulatory handshakes and shoulder slaps.

“I’m sorry to steal your thunder,” Stephanie said to Tim, “but you and Erin are leaving first thing tomorrow and I wanted you to hear our announcement in person.”

“Steph, this is terrific news,” Tim said. “Honestly. Congratulations.”

But Erin noted a weird look on his face, like he had an upset stomach.

She wondered if the idea of a new baby was bringing up memories of Mollie. If so, she’d have to help him get past it. She hoped maybe a new niece or nephew would be exactly what he needed to realize loving another child was a good thing. Once he got over that hurdle, then it wouldn’t be long before she could convince him to make a baby of their own.