"You know I play hockey, right?" I ask her. "As my job."
"Uh-huh."
"Well, I have fans...and they like to collect my signature or take pictures with me," I explain to her.
"What's a fan?" she asks, not taking her eyes off her feet, but truly invested in the conversation.
I laugh and try to give the simplest explanation. "A fan is someone that really, really likes me."
"Then I'm your fan too," she says, and fuck...if that doesn't cause my heart to melt.
Seems it's been doing that a lot around these kids, the more I spend time with them. Jules has done just a remarkable job of keeping them centered and grounded. They're good kids--not without some faults, but for the most part my day is always better anytime I can spend with them.
A glance back over at Jules and I see her watching us, a light smile on her face. I wink at her. Her smile doesn't lessen but it doesn't get any brighter either as she turns back to give another push to Levy.
Something's wrong with her.
I have no clue what it is, because when I ask her she insists nothing is wrong.
But I know differently. She's been a little distant since I got back from Chicago yesterday. Hell, the distance actually started when I was in Chicago, because for the first time ever, she didn't answer the phone when I called her. It has become our ritual when I'm at an away game: I call her as soon as I make it back to the hotel and we talk about the game: She'd taken to watching my games with fervor, chattering away at me excitedly if we won, or with softly empathetic tones if we lost. But she didn't pick up the phone the other night and it made me wonder.
If I'd had my way about things, I would have preferred to spend today alone with her. We'd talked about it earlier this week, because Kate and Zack were going to use his day off today to take Ben to the Durham Life and Science museum. They'd invited Annabelle, Levy, and Rocco to go along and thus it was the perfect opportunity for me and Jules to have a day to ourselves. I figured maybe we'd go out to lunch, and then perhaps back to my house, where we'd spend the rest of the day in bed.
Good plan, except Jules didn't want to do that. Instead she wanted to go with the kids, and I wasn't about to tell her no. Spending time with them was just as important to me, and I figured that one day Jules would be mine in all ways. That might mean moving in together or it might mean marriage, but for now I had to take what I could get from her and it didn't bother me in the slightest. As long as we could be together, it didn't matter if it was when I was balls deep in her or hanging out with her and the kids.
Any Jules time was perfect time.
Except when she's like this.
Distant.
Closed off.
Unapproachable.
I have no fucking clue what's going on, but figure I'll try again tonight after the kids go to bed. I'm staying the night whether she likes it or not, and I'm willing to battle a sore back from her couch.
Annabelle jumps down at the end of the ladder and yells, "Again."
"Of course, again," I tell her.
I glance again at Jules as she pushes Levy on the tire swing, and hesitate when I see him grab the ropes and pull himself up to a standing position.
"Levy," Jules snaps at him. "Sit back down."
He doesn't obey and instead uses leverage on the peak of the back swing to propel the swing higher.
"Watch, Aunt Jules," he exclaims when at the peak of the front swing he launches himself off the tire. He doesn't get much air but I'll admit my heart jumps into my throat as I watch him hurtle toward the ground, where thankfully he lands with grace on his two feet.
I start to lift Annabelle up the ladder, but Jules is stalking toward Levy, her face a mask of fury that stops me. She reaches him, grabs him by the arm and leans over to get in his face, where she yells, "Damn it, Levy. When I tell you to do something, you better damn well do it."
To perhaps any other parent, this wouldn't seem like an over-the-top reaction for a child who doesn't listen and willingly does something stupid where they could be hurt. But not once since we've been together have I ever heard Jules yell at one of the kids. And it's not just that she yelled, but that she did it while holding on to his arm and with anger vibrating from every pore on her body. She yelled loud, and it garnered the attention of everyone in the vicinity.
"I'm sorry, Aunt Jules," Levy says, the tears immediately welling up in his eyes.
I start walking their way and then pick up the pace when she tells him furiously, "I'm so tired of you not listening to me. Just sick and tired of it."
She says this last part as she releases his arm and practically snarls at him, "Come on. We're going home. If you can't behave, you don't deserve to play out here."
"Whoa," I say softly as I reach her, my hand going to her lower back. I note Zack and Kate watching with worried eyes, and they start to come down the hill now that they've heard Jules proclaim we're leaving. I drop my voice lower and lean in toward Jules' ear. "Babe...let's just calm down."
She spins on me, Levy forgotten. "Don't tell me to calm down, Max. I don't need your patronization."
"Hey," I say softly, my hand coming to her cheek. "I'm not patronizing you. I'm sorry. If you want to go, we'll go."
Jules doesn't meet my gaze but her eyes take in Levy crying, Zack and Kate hovering nearby, and a few other parents in the area watching carefully.
Finally, her eyes lift to mine and it's a gut punch when I see the self-loathing in them burning through the layer of tears that are welling up. She whispers to me with a husky voice on the verge of a meltdown. A small voice. "Can you take me home?"
I nod and turn to Kate. "Mind taking the kids for the rest of the day? I'll come pick them up a little later."
Kate nods, holds her arms out silently, telling the kids to gather near her. "Come on, kiddos...why don't we go get some hot chocolate."
They all walk toward Kate as Jules stares blankly at my chest. I reach down to take her hand, but she suddenly spins from me, rushes over to Levy and drops down before him on her knees. She wraps her arms around him and pulls him into a hug, squeezing him hard and whispering fiercely, "I'm sorry I yelled at you. You just scared me and it made me angry but I shouldn't have done that."
When she pulls back, Levy smiles at her and then throws his arms around her neck for another hug. "It's okay. I shouldn't have jumped."
She nods her understanding and releases him. She then gives Rocco and Annabelle hugs too, and a murmur of thanks to Kate and Zack before turning back to me.
"Come on." I hold my hand out to her. "Let me take you to lunch. We'll relax, maybe have a few beers and talk."
She takes my hand but she shakes her head. "I don't want to go out. Just to my place."
Her voice is still so small but it's also firm.
While I'd rather not have her go to the apartment to sulk, I'm not going to argue with her either. I have a sinking feeling that things are definitely off between us, so I need to give her the room to air those things as she sees fit.
--
The ride back to Jules' apartment was silent and tense. I had no clue how to go about effectuating conversation. Had no clue if she was receptive to it.
Ultimately, I decided to
hold my tongue until we got to her place, because I suspected that my attention should be on her fully and not on the road while I was driving.
When we walk in, she immediately goes to the refrigerator. "Want something to drink?"
"I'm good," I tell her and watch as she opens the door, stares for a few moments at the inside, and then closes it with a sigh, not taking anything out.
When she turns to me, her face is worried. "I was awful to Levy."
"You were a mother to Levy," I correct as I walk to the couch and sit down. I pat the cushion beside me and she trudges my way, shoulders slumped.
When she sits down, I note it's not right beside me but rather she leaves about a foot between us. I let it go and turn to face her. "What's going on, Jules? And don't give me that 'nothing's wrong' shit you've been handing me since I got back from Chicago."
She stares down at her lap a moment, and I think she may indeed tell me nothing's wrong, but then she murmurs, "I don't want to go to that charity gala next weekend."
"What?" I ask, completely taken aback. Of all the things I thought might be bothering her, this wasn't at the top of my imaginative list.
Jules angles her head and brings her eyes to mine. "I don't want to go to the gala," she repeats.
"Okay," I respond slowly, sensing that this is just a front for what's really going on. "Want to tell me why?"
"It's just...overwhelming to me."
"I'll be by your side the entire time," I provide, hoping to not necessarily coax her into going, but rather trying to get to the root of the true issue.
"I know," she says with a frustrated huff. "I just...I don't like being on display like that."
"On display?" I ask, confused. No clue what she's talking about. "You wouldn't be."
Her eyes harden somewhat and she says, "Let me be clearer then. I don't like people looking at me with you and second-guessing my motives to be there by your side."
And understanding hits me. "Is this because of what Luc said at Thanksgiving? Because I thought we were past that."
It's true. We haven't talked about that since, just as we've had no further conversation about her moving in with me, despite the fact I've brought it up twice and only got an "I'm still thinking about it" from her.