May 2007

MAY 2007

When Sidney Crosby told me he wasn’t going anywhere, he was right. The two of us became best friends. I told him when he was being an arrogant bastard and he told me when I was a pain in the ass. We played weekend games of tennis, met for lunch at Shep’s every Wednesday when he wasn’t on the road and hit the clubs with the Pens’ crew. He met my friends, and even hooked up drunkenly with one of my friends. He helped me study for tests, and I passed pucks to him out on the ice.

I was lounging on the couch at home one day when my sister-in-law Stacey came in. Stacey was seven months pregnant with our first niece or nephew, and we were all so excited.
“Hey Stace,” I said.
“Ugh, can the next seven weeks just go already? I’m over being a pregnant lady, I want to be a mommy already!” Then she paused, “On second though, no, I still need to get something to cover the …… what do you call it? The electric thing?”
“What? I have no idea, pregnancy brain.”
“This thing!” She gestured.
“An outlet?”
“Yeah, we need two more of those. So, not yet!” she said, talking to her belly.
Just then my phone lit up, and my face did the same.
“Oh look at you! Who is it texting you?”
“Danny.”
“Danny who? Is this the boy you’re always texting, sissy?”
“No, that’s Sidney.”
“Right. Sidney. Where is he? Who is Danny?”
“Sidney’s just a really great friend. Danny’s the guy I’ve been crushing on.”
“Oh, okay. Anything happening?”
“We’re making progress. He wants me to go out and visit him in California.”
“Not before this baby’s born! My sister Dawn just booked a trip to the Bahamas a week before I’m due.”
“Not me. I’m not going anywhere.”