Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Chloe

"This is so dumb," I mumble as I pull the clean fitted sheet over my mattress. At this rate, I'll need to start buying puppy pads to keep from ruining my sheets. "At least it's not a bladder control problem, right?"

I point double finger-guns at my pet fish, Sushi, like she knows anything about bladders. Do fish even have bladders? She flutters her blue fins and swims into the castle in her tank on my dresser, clearly not wanting to discuss my insane night sweats.

"Not very nice, Sushi. The least you can do is sympathize about midlifing with me. Wait, do Betta fish go through menopause?" Seems unfair to expect an animal who only lives four years to spend any of that time in hormonal hell. Sushi still doesn't come out. Which is fine. I've got a bazillion things to do and zero time to do them in.

Agreeing to attend the All-Star hockey games in Toronto just a week after moving my whole life to Tampa, Florida wasn't my smartest move. Then again, I promised myself I'd live life to the fullest, and that means saying yes to things. Including hockey things, even if Dad has warned me away from hockey boys for as long as I can remember.

Thankfully, packing isn't an issue. I still have several boxes in the corner of my new condo that say Winter Clothes on the side of them. Having lived in Madison, Wisconsin since college, I accumulated a lot of parkas, scarves, and sweaters. I won't be using any of that here in Tampa.

After packing appropriate clothing, I pull on my favorite leggings and a black-and-white polka-dotted corset top that puts my ample assets on display. Reaching up, I feel my curlers and discover them to be cool to the touch, which means it's the perfect time to take them out and finger comb my bouncing black curls before tying in a red bandanna as a headband. My image in the mirror is so different from a year ago, but I like it. It shows growth.

For a few years there, I didn't have time to dress nicely or play around with makeup. Every single minute of every day was spent teaching my third graders or taking care of my ailing husband. I wouldn't have wanted to do anything else, but now that it's been some time since Josh passed, it feels like I'm ready to turn my attention to myself for once.

Satisfied with the reflection in the mirror, I step aside to zip up my suitcase and set it on the floor. "Sushi, hold down the fort. Mom said she'd stop by to feed you once a day while I'm gone. Don't let her know about the night sweats. She'll start fretting about my ‘advanced age' again. The last thing I need is Mom setting me up with her friends' divorced sons."

Sushi pokes her head out of the castle and opens and closes her mouth several times, which I take as confirmation that her lips are sealed when Mom's around. One can only hope. Mom, with the very best of intentions in her heart, tried to set me up with a man just six months after Josh died. While that wasn't so bad as far as timing goes, the blind date showed up talking about marriage and monogrammed napkins and hyphenated last names. I left after appetizers, claiming a migraine coming on.

It's been over a year now since Josh's passing, and while I'm ready to date again, I need it to be casual. For fun. Something I haven't experienced much over the last few years. Is it wrong for a girl to want some physical contact from a handsome man without the heavy burden of forever hanging over her head? To lose herself in a hot kiss in a dark bar? To get sweaty in my bed from something other than night sweats?

I close the door to my duplex and hustle to the waiting rideshare out on the street. I have a flight to catch and friends waiting for me. If I get lucky, I just might meet a man in Toronto who can show me a good time for the brief few days I'm in town. Then I'll come back to Tampa and start building my new life.

The hotel in downtown Toronto is packed with fans sporting their favorite hockey players' jerseys. The energy is palpable, and it makes me happy I said yes to this trip. I dump my suitcase in my room, finger comb my hair, and run back downstairs with a leather jacket over my thin corset top. Roman LaFontaine and his fiancée, Olivia, are waiting for me at a restaurant just down the street. Roman's known me for two decades now and was even at my wedding. Thankfully, I hit it off with his new fiancée. I met her a few months after Josh's funeral when I was in Tampa scoping out condos and the possibility of moving there. She's reached out regularly to check in on me since then. Being in a better headspace now, I'm looking forward to getting to know her more.

I see them at a table tucked into the far corner of the restaurant. Roman waves and I walk over to give them both a hug before sitting across from Roman. Olivia looks gorgeous as usual, and Roman can't seem to take his hands off her. It would be cute if it wasn't so nauseating. Honestly, I'm happy for them. Everyone deserves a chance at love, no matter their age. Just not me. I don't want any more chances. I only want to have fun, no strings attached.

"You look incredible, Chloe!" Olivia gushes. "We ordered a bottle of cabernet for the table. Would you prefer something else?"

"Thank you. I've been experimenting," I admit. "And yes, cabernet is perfect."

Roman groans. "Please tell me we aren't talking about fashion tonight. I hear about shoes every single day."

Olivia is a famous trendsetter who started a shoe company a few years back. All the celebrities wear her designs, and she shipped me a pair of her most coveted shoes right after we met. She lets go of Roman's hand. "You shush. You love talking fashion."

Roman pouts but doesn't argue with his fiancée. I chuckle, enjoying the changes in him since he's gotten engaged. Roman was the perpetual bachelor for years, being photographed with puck bunnies on his arm in every city his team flew into. It's nice to see that he's settled down and found his person.

"I decided that while blondes might have more fun, I couldn't pull off such a drastic change to my brunette hair so I went jet black." I take a sip of the wine and hum at the smooth finish.

Olivia holds up her glass and swirls the deep red wine. "It's more than that though, isn't it? I know I saw you during a rough patch, but you look vibrant today, Chloe. Luscious and womanly and incredibly sexy. Right, honey?"

Roman holds up his hands, looking alarmed. "I haven't looked at anyone but you, sweetheart."

Olivia and I both roll our eyes, but I see her reach over to hold his hand again. She turns her attention back to me. "You look amazing, let's leave it at that. What have you been up to, other than moving to Tampa?"

The server comes over and tells us the daily specials. I order the shrimp dish on special, Roman gets steak, and Olivia gets a salad with the dressing on the side. She mumbles something about ‘damn menopause' but I don't comment. I'm here for fun this weekend, not to rehash all my midlife problems.

"I was actually hoping to talk to you about my plans," I say once the server leaves to place our orders. "Thanks to a generous life insurance policy, I don't need to go back to teaching, but I'm not quite ready to retire yet. I want to get back to my roots."

Roman leans his elbows on the table, a big grin on his face. "Please tell me it's hockey."

Considering he met me when I was a D1 hockey player and he had just signed a huge contract with the NHL, he would know exactly what my passion is. We both used to live for the ice. For me though, a guy, marriage, jobs, and real life ended up distracting me from that passion.

"Fuck, yeah." We share a grin only weirdos would understand. Takes a special person to want to skate across a sheet of ice on razor blades and smash people up against the boards. "I want to coach the younger crowd. Kind of a blend of my two passions: kids and hockey."

Olivia groans this time. "Here I was thinking this dinner would get me away from all the hockey talk."

Roman rubs his hands together. "Okay, so Banks Bennet was just talking to me about looking for a coach for his Little Brother. Wants to get the guy in skates for the first time. You might be the right fit."

I take another sip of wine, already feeling lit up inside. This is what I've been looking for. No more obligations that weigh me down. I just want to chase what makes me feel alive. "I'd love to meet him. But I also want to get a whole league together. For recreation. Too many of these young kids are being pushed into expensive and time-consuming clubs. I want my league to be for fun. For the love of the sport, not to sign a professional contract before middle school."

"Oh, I love that," Olivia sighs. "So many kids are being pressured into the next big thing, when all they want to do is play. We need to let kids be kids sometimes."

"Exactly!" I put my wine down, far too interested in the conversation to take time to sip. "Life is short and not every kid is cut out to play in the NHL, but they should still be able to play for fun. They'll get all the benefits of physical activity and the team aspect. Just without the pressure to impress a high-level coach."

Roman sits back in his chair. "I love that idea, Chloe. If anyone can do it, it would be you. You have a knack for meeting people where they are and working with them to make them better than they were before they met you."

That compliment might be more insightful than any I've ever received. "Thank you, Roman. I just like to help people."

"As long as no one takes advantage of you," Olivia pipes up. "My ex-husband used to rely on my constant offers of help to the point that I was burned out on life."

I suck in a deep breath. Fuck, that sounds all too familiar. My eyes fill with tears before I can will them away. I haven't teared up in public like this in a few months. I thought I was done with that stage of grieving. Olivia grabs my arm in alarm.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to imply..."

I wave away the rest of whatever she was going to say. "No, it's okay. That actually hit quite close to home. I don't want to speak ill of the dead, but Josh used to do the same. He didn't even know he was doing it, but it was hard just the same."

Olivia's face is a mask of sympathy. At least she doesn't look revolted that I said something negative about my late husband. "Well, you had to take care of him when he was sick too. That had to have been hard."

I nod, trying not to think about those two straight years of caregiving, on top of my full-time job. He was my husband, though. Of course I stepped up and took care of him. Even if that meant putting myself last every single day.

Our server arrives with our meals, and it ends that line of conversation, which is just as well. I don't need to turn this dinner into a therapy session. We reminisce and talk about the future while we eat. By the time we're all stuffed, we have plans to meet up tomorrow for breakfast before the skills competition. We'll be sitting together, and I'm looking forward to more time with Olivia. She's incredibly insightful and a sympathetic listener. A winning combination for a woman coming off the hardest years of her life and looking for new friends.

As we step outside and the cold breeze hits my heated cheeks, I inhale and look up at the sky. I don't know what my life will look like in Tampa, but right now, in this moment, I'm happy. And that's enough for me.