After the Penguins won their first series of the playoffs against the Flyers, they had to head to Washington DC to face the Capitals. They lost game one, and the Sunday morning right after the Saturday loss, Marc-Andre and I were trying out Skype.
He used it to talk to Vero and made me install it on my laptop.
Laying on my stomach on the floor of Oliver's room, I chatted with my brother while Ollie played around beside me.
"Oh, hold on. Sid just noticed that I'm Skyping you instead of Vero," Marc laughed as Sidney came into view.
"Hi there Sid," I felt myself grinning.
"This is really neat. Hi Oliver!" Sidney waved, and the boy crawled up to the screen, grasping at the image on the computer.
"No, honey. Daddy's on TV!' I said with a giggle, bringing him toward me.
"Da-ad," Oliver sputtered out, making me gape, Marc and Sid included.
"Did he just-" Sidney started, then Oliver repeated himself more clearly, reaching out to my computer.
"He did," I nodded, grinning with excitement.
At just shy of nine months old, Oliver had just said his first actual word.
"I wish I was there!" Sidney said, but Marc-Andre reminded him of one little thing.
"Dude, Skype! If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have witnessed this at all."
"Yeah, thanks man," Sid smiled, "You should call my mom and tell her. She'll be so excited"
"Guess I have to call our parents too, eh Marc? You think mom will have a cow?"
"You know it!" my brother chuckled as my phone vibrated beside me.
I saw the text from Carey and quickly replied, not sure if they would notice.
"That better be a text to Henry," Marc-Andre told me.
"It was Price. He said to tell Sid good luck for tomorrow," I held my phone to the webcam to prove it.
"That's cool of him," Sidney nodded, then the doorbell rang.
"Gosh. I gotta go get the door. I'll catch you two later. Say bye, Ollie!" I smiled, waving goodbye to Marc and Sidney.
Oliver waved, "Byeee," he repeated after me. I had a feeling he would be repeating anyone and everyone pretty soon.
"Au revoir!" Marc told us, and Sid said he'd be home tonight.
I shut Skype down, picking up Oliver and heading downstairs.
Trina was at the door, a smile crossing her face when she saw us.
When she came in, I took the opportunity to tell her about her grandson's first words.
"So we were video calling online with Sidney and my brother, and Oliver reached for Sid and said dad!" I recounted the events, "Then he told them bye right before we came down to open the door."
"That's fantastic! Sidney's first word was goal, which didn't surprise me. All he did was watch games on TV with Troy."
"Mine was but which is French for goal, so I guess Sid and I are more alike than we thought," I laughed.
"That's why you go so well together. I'm glad that you've worked out your differences," she told me as she stood in the doorway between the kitchen and living room.
Oliver was motoring about in one of those rolling deals that I saw in the movie Big once.
I was making chicken caesar salad for lunch, talking to Trina about anything that came up.
She told me that if I ever wanted to just get out of the house, to let her know and she would watch Oliver any time she was around.
I decided to take her up on the offer after lunch to get in an hour of skating at the rink.
I had missed being on the ice; but it wasn't worth whining about. That era of life was over. I would never captain a college or pro team, and I wouldn't get to play for my country in the 2010 Vancouver Olympics. Day by day, I was leting these facts sink in.
After an hour and a half of theraputic skating and puck handling drills, I headed home to find Oliver taking his afternoon nap.
"Sidney called half an hour ago," Trina said after we left the boy's room.
"Oh?" I asked, unsure of why he had called.
"He said it was a part of his playoff routine.. Calling you at 1:15, just before his pre-game nap," the woman laughed at her son's obsessive, superstitious compulsions, "I swear, he loves the naps a bit too much."
"I totally forgot.. He's so crazy about that too.. It's to late to call back, he's already dead to the world," I agreed with Trina's assumption. Sid was very serious when it came to nap time.
"So is Taylor coming to Pittsburgh soon?" I asked, and Trina shook her head.
"She has school! Though we brought her to the Final series.. Because there was that chance.."
"I know," I nodded, "This year is different. They've fought hard to get to the game tonight."
Trina stayed to watch the game, then she returned to the condo after the 3-4 loss.
After I put Oliver to bed, I went down to the living room to watch ESPN's coverage of the game, trying to figure out what the Capitals were doing so right.
I don't remember what time I fell asleep on the couch, but when I woke up I was in my bed with Sidney beside me, and he was reading a fishing magazine.
"Morning Sid," I smiled, checking the alarm clock over his shoulder. It was nine thirty, how did I not hear Oliver wake up?
Sidney must have noticed my confused staring contest with the clock, because he briefly looked up from his magazine.
"I already fed him.. But he was still tired, so he's sleeping."
"Oh.." I nodded, getting up and getting dressed then brushing my teeth.
I stood in the doorway of the bathroom, watching Sid just sit there, focused on whatever he was looking at.
"Are you mad at me?" I asked, and he merely shot me a glance.
"Fine. I'm going out. I'll be back before you have to go to practice."
I quickly slipped on some Vans, heading down stairs and grabbing my practice bag on the way out.
I cooled off at the Iceoplex until eleven, when I noticed Evgeni standing at the entrance to the ice.
I skated over, wondering if the time for their practice had changed.
"Hey Geno!" I grinned as I walked off the ice. I was done for the day anyways.
"Hi Brie. what are you doing?" he asked in that extreme Russian accent, making me let out a little laugh.
"Uh, skating? You're here early."
"Just wanted to get some extra time in. Have to beat the Washington tomorrow.."
"You mean Ovechkin. Don't like, you know the playoffs are only big enough for one Rouski."
Evgeni smiled, nodding at my remark.
"Well, see ya later. Have fun!"
Geno said bye, and I went to go dress out and then head home.
When I walked in, I saw Sid on the floor in the living room, Oliver chilling next to him, and I noticed all of Sid's equipment was out of his bag.
"Ok, so this is a stick. Can you say stick?" he asked, and Oliver just stared at him with those big eyes of his.
"How about tape?" Sid held up a roll of black stick tape.
"Geno is already at practice," I said casually as I set my heavy bag down.
"Oh.. It's not for another hour."
"I know," I nodded, "And seriously. Did I do something wrong? I don't appreciate the cold shoulder."
"I called you yesterday but you weren't there. It threw off my entire routine."
"You're mad that I messed up your OCD rituals? Sid.. I was at the rink. You only called me once before you tried yesterday! It wasn't a part of your routine in Philly. Sorry I can't be near the phone twenty-four seven."
"In Philly you were right there with me. I had no need to call you," he said, then mumbled the next sentence more to himself, "You always seem to be around the phone for Price."
He picked up Oliver and put him on the playpen before beginning to pack his equipment.
"You sure have some nerve. It fascinates and frustrates me. I know you strive to be the best, but you don't have to when it comes to me."
"I realize that. Yesterday just threw me off completely, and we lost. I'll get over it," he said, managing to send me a less than convincing smile.
"How do you manage to put up with me?" he asked after he zipped up his equipment bag.
"I dunno. You make it pretty worthwhile though," I grinned, giving him a peck on the cheek, "Now get to practice. Geno's on a mission to eliminate Ovechkin."
"I'm down with that. See you two later."