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Ilya Rozanov would have done anything in the world for Shane Hollander, including being friends with Hayden Pike. Even if he cannot identify a single good quality in Hayden. His hockey skills are middling. His sense of humor is dumb. His intelligence, also, it seems, is dumb. The best thing about Hayden Pike is his quick-witted, kind, beautiful wife Jackie.
Ilya had liked Jackie as soon as he met her. Liked her welcoming smile and her bright laugh and the way she nudged her stupid husband hard in the shoulder whenever he made a joke at Shane’s expense.
Ilya also likes their litter of four chaotic children, whom he’d been fast friends with. He’d wonder how they turned out so great with such a lame father, but he doesn’t have to. He knows Hayden is hardly around, and when he is, he’s not exactly a hands-on parent. He knows Hayden thinks he’s a super hero for playing with the kids for an hour or two on days he’s home, never mind the messes they make which he does not help clean up, or the way he spaces out at dinner and just eats his own food instead of helping his wife coax the kids into eating vegetables. Ilya knows this because he’s witnessed it one too many times.
Yeah, he’s never exactly been impressed with Hayden Pike. Because Hayden Pike is not exactly impressive.
+
“I have a doctor’s appointment and my doctor is still in Montreal,” Shane says, tapping at the steering wheel uncomfortably. His fourth or fifth idea for an excuse about why they are in Montreal, why they are bringing pizzas to the Pike residence to have lunch with Jackie and the kids.
“Why would I come with you to that?” Ilya asks, shaking his head.
“You’re a supportive husband.”
“I rate it one star. Your doctor is from the team in Ottawa, Jackie knows how this works.”
“Dentist, then.”
“Two stars. There is no reason for me to come watch you get your teeth cleaned.”
Shane huffs. “Then what?”
“It’s not a big deal. She didn’t ask when you texted her. Maybe she doesn’t care.”
“Okay, but it’s weird. If I’m so busy doing something here, why did I have time to have lunch with them?”
“Shane, is not that big of a deal.” Ilya gestures vaguely.
“It feels like it is,” Shane says quietly, and Ilya knows he isn’t just talking about coming up with an excuse.
Ilya reaches for him. Sets his hand on Shane’s thigh and squeezes it.
It’s brave for Shane to do this. Ilya knows it is. So much has been out of Shane’s control lately – being outed (thanks to Hayden’s carelessness), having to leave the Metros, the bullshit with Hayden and JJ and his other previous teammates, the bullshit with the commissioner. So Ilya knows it’s brave for him to do this, to try to take back some agency, to try to build a relationship when it would be more native to shy away and retreat.
Ilya wants to make it as easy as possible for Shane. To help in any way he can. To encourage him, and come with him, and nudge him in the right direction– really, to do whatever he needs. He watches Shane drive, and he wishes he could do more to fix it.
Shane is the best thing in the world to Ilya, the best thing he could ever imagine, and he hates what this situation has done to him. Hates that it’s partially his own fault because if he wasn’t here, Shane’s life would have gone on as planned. He’d play out his entire career on the Metros and he’d be best friends with Hayden and JJ and he wouldn’t have to pick between anything, to give up anything. Part of Ilya knows this is absolutely stupid – that Shane loves him, and wouldn’t trade their relationship for anything, the same as Ilya wouldn’t – but the feeling of guilt remains. There is no question Shane’s life would be simpler if Ilya wasn’t in it.
But Ilya wants to be in it, needs to be in it, knows Shane wants him and needs him too. So he’s dedicated to doing whatever he can do to soften it. To make things work out better. To comfort him, hopefully, when he doubts himself like this.
“She will be happy to see us,” Ilya says, stroking Shane’s thigh gently with his thumb. “And the kids will be, too.”
Shane nods once, eyes on the road, but Ilya notices the tension in his jaw.
+
The moment Jackie opens the door, Ruby is bolting out of it and nearly knocking Shane over, which is bad news because he has two large pizzas in his arms. Luckily, Shane gets his footing quickly, and avoids disaster.
“Sorry, sorry,” Jackie says quickly, grabbing her daughter. “Ruby, you need to chill.”
“Uncle Shane! What kind of pizza did you bring?” She shouts exuberantly, ignoring her mother.
Shane cracks a smile. “Well, if you let us come in, we’ll show you.”
Jackie laughs a little, and pulls Ruby out of the way. Shane and Ilya step inside. Ruby puts herself back in the way immediately.
Then Jade is there, flinging herself at Ilya, who expertly catches her and scoops her up. “Ah, there she is,” he says. “The whole reason I came.”
Jade giggles gleefully, throwing her arms around Ilya’s neck. Ilya grins too. He does really like Hayden’s kids. They are sweet, and chaotic, and lots of fun. Unmarred by their father’s poor quality as a human being.
“Thanks for making time to stop by, you guys,” Jackie says as she leads them to the kitchen. “The kids really miss you. They were so excited when I told them you were coming.”
“Is this true?” Ilya asks the second grader wrapped around him like a spider monkey. “You miss me?”
“I don’t know,” she says bashfully.
Now that they’re out of the entryway, Amber and Arthur are on them as well, and Ilya reaches down to scoop Amber up too, holding one kid in each arm. This sets Jade off giggling even more.
“You’re stronger than Daddy,” she says.
“Oh, I know I am,” Ilya confirms, internally absolutely delighted at the comment. “I would pick up your brother too if I had one more arm.”
Shane manages to set the pizza down on the kitchen island even with Ruby clinging to his leg. “Uncle Shane! Pick me up too!”
He does as she says, scooping her up easily. “Am I stronger than your dad, too?”
“Yes,” she giggles. “What kinda pizza did you get?”
“One is plain cheese, the other is sausage and peppers.”
“Ew, peppers!” Ruby all but screams in Shane’s ear. Ilya laughs a little as he flinches.
“You don’t have to eat that one. You can just have the cheese,” Jackie points out. She turns to meet Ilya’s eyes briefly, her cheeks pink. “Sorry.”
“Kids are picky,” he dismisses cheerfully. “Is fine. Shane is picky too.”
“I’m not,” Shane protests. “I just like to eat healthy food.”
“Yes. So we get pizza with a vegetable on it, just for you, solnyshko.”
“What does that mean?” Jade asks, tugging on Ilya’s sleeve from her place in his right arm.
“It means sunshine in Russian,” he says, setting both the girls down on the dining table bench. He sits with them, figuring he’ll keep them occupied while Jackie gets them food.
Shane sets Ruby down too, and she climbs onto the bench next to her sister with childlike clumsiness. “Why did you call him sunshine?” She asks.
“Because he makes me happy like sunshine. Sunshine is beautiful and nice and warm, like Shane.”
Ilya can see Shane blushing out of the corner of his eye. He delights in this, too. Thinks about how much nicer it is to be here without Hayden, who would have some nasty comment, or tell them to get a room, or not to corrupt his children. The silent implication being that two men showing affection to each other in a perfectly chaste way is a corruptive force. But the Pike kids, they’d never questioned Shane and Ilya’s relationship. Never acted like it was weird. It turns out kids are pretty accepting as a default, and Hayden hasn’t gotten to them.
Or maybe Hayden has, and Jackie has quietly undone it.
“Sah-nicks-kuh,” Ruby attempts.
Ilya grins again. “Close. That was a good try. Solnyshko,” he repeats slowly.
She says it almost correctly, and he nods, holding his hand out to high five her. She looks awfully pleased with herself. He wonders if he’ll ever be able to teach his own child Russian. He hopes he will. Not four. Maybe just one or two. Four, clearly, is too many. As evidenced by the way Arthur is wandering off, unnoticed by his mother, who is busy in the kitchen. Even the quiet sweet one is chaotic in his own way. Ilya casually stands up and goes to collect him, bringing him back to the table. Arthur complies.
“Jackie, can I help you?” Shane asks as Jackie makes plates for the kids, cutting a piece of cheese pizza into smaller pieces for one of the little ones.
“Thank you, Shane. You can get the twins each a piece, they don’t need it cut up.”
He nods, and does so.
After a bit more standard issue chaos, the seven of them are seated and eating. Jackie sits between Arthur and Amber, helping them out as needed. She makes it look easy, taking care of four kids. Ilya figures she’s used to it. Being the only adult around. No nanny because, as Hayden likes to cheerfully say, Jackie is basically super-mom.
Because she has no other choice, probably, Ilya figures.
“How are you liking being back in Ottawa, Shane?” Jackie asks after she finally takes a bite of her own pizza. “Bet your parents are happy to have you closer.”
“They’re psyched,” Shane says. Ilya wonders if there is anyone else on the planet who still says ‘psyched’. “It’s good. The team is really great. And our coach, too.”
“Were they welcoming?” Jackie asks. “When you joined?”
“Oh, yeah. Super nice guys. Not, uh, not like how we used to haze people on the Metros.”
This is new information. Ilya sets down his Coke. “Haze people?”
“Nothing crazy. Just, you know. The first time in the locker room, we’d all wait for the new guy to come out of the showers, and we’d all throw our dirty socks at him.”
“Hayden told me about that stuff,” Jackie says without bothering to fake a laugh.
“Yeah. It’s dumb. It was… they were doing it when me and Hayden joined. Before. We’d do other stuff, too. Dumb stuff, honestly.”
“Did they haze you?” Ilya asks. He’s not laughing, either.
Shane shrugs. “Same as any other guy. It’s no big deal. It’s stupid, but it’s not, like, life changing.”
Ilya looks at him for a minute. The Boston Raiders had not hazed him, and the Centaurs certainly didn’t. He’d been welcomed warmly by both teams. He can remember Troy mentioning some hazing that went on with his old team, mostly at the hands of Dallas Kent, hockey’s biggest asshole and actual criminal. But he doesn’t think these things are commonplace. The closest thing his own team has to hazing is Bood challenging all the new rookies to a game of pool, which he always wins.
It seems like the toxic nastiness had been commonplace among the Metros, even before they basically shunned Shane for being gay.
Not that any of them would admit it was because he’s gay. No, it’s because of his choice in a partner, that’s all, that’s it, the only reason anyone has an issue.
He doesn’t generally think of himself as an angry person, but he has a stockpile of rage toward the Metros that only seems to build.
Ilya decides to drop it for now. Not the point of their visit. He sips his Coke again and then picks up his pizza. “How have you been?” He asks Jackie with his mouth full.
“Oh, good. Things are always a little crazy around here.” She smiles tiredly. Glances at the twins, who are eating and yapping at each other at the other end of the table. Arthur seems too focused on his pizza to be involved in anything at all, and Amber has been providing a variety of hard-to-understand toddler babbles.
“I bet,” Shane says.
“You can call us, you know,” Ilya states without really thinking about it beforehand. “If you ever need a break. We will come.”
Something comes over Jackie’s big brown eyes that looks like real gratitude, and she nods a few times. “Thank you, Ilya. That’s really sweet.”
“Yeah, uh, we’re usually on days off or home games when Hayden is out of town, it seems like,” Shane says a bit awkwardly. As if he hasn’t carefully reviewed the season schedules, comparing the Metros’ and the Centaurs’ travel paths with an inappropriate level of intensity. Ilya had watched him do it the other day, and hadn’t said anything about it.
“Mommy,” Jade whines. “Ruby says I’m stupid.”
“Ruby, is that true?” Jackie asks patiently.
“No. I said she sounded stupid. That’s different from saying she is stupid.”
“It breaks my heart when you are mean to each other, you know,” Ilya says dramatically. He throws his hand against his chest. “I can feel the broken pieces. I might have to leave, it is so bad.”
“No!” Jade and Ruby both squeal.
“Girls, please. Inside voices.” Jackie sighs. She takes a bite and chews it neatly, swallowing before she speaks again, which is not something that usually occurs to Ilya to do. “You know, Shane,” she says. “It’s so different without you. Like, I’m really realizing how uncivilized a group of male hockey players can be. The other girls and I seem to have no impact. It’s like when they’re all together, they’re animals.”
“Yeah, they can be… rowdy,” Shane agrees, talking to his pizza.
“The Centaurs are not like this,” Ilya says. “You should come sometime. When we have a party.”
Jackie laughs a bit. “I don’t think Hayden would like that.”
“You are probably right,” Ilya says. “But the offer is open, and we have guest rooms. There’s always lots of little kids running around at our team barbecues. The girls would make friends.”
“Is it nice being on the same team?” Jackie asks.
“It’s great,” Shane says. He glances at Ilya, a small, soft smile at his lips that still flips Ilya’s heart around in his chest even after all these years. “We play really well together. Sometimes it’s like he can read my mind.”
“I can read your mind,” Ilya says easily.
“Shut up.”
“Mommy! Shane said shut up!” Jade yells.
Jackie laughs a little.
“I’m sorry, Jade,” Shane says earnestly. “That was a mistake. It’s not nice to tell people to shut up, is it?”
“No, it’s impolite,” Ruby recites. She wipes pizza sauce onto her sleeve.
“Honey, please use your napkin.”
“We’re done eating,” Jade protests.
Ilya stands. “Oh, is time to play then? Time to go outside?”
“Yeah!”
Ilya winks at Shane and finishes his pizza so he can take the kids outside and wear them out.
Shane grins. “Right behind you.”
+
They play with the kids outside in the autumn leaves for a few hours, and Ilya invents several chaotic games that involve a lot of running and/or yelling and/or throwing things. Every once in a while, he catches a glimpse of Jackie on the living room couch, looking at something on her phone. Not having to pay attention, for once. This is important, Ilya figures. Not just for Shane, but for her too.
Once the kids are worn out, he and Shane make their two hour drive back to Ottawa, watching the sun set outside the car windows.
“That was nice,” Ilya says.
“Yeah. Think I’m gonna have a bruise on my face, though.”
“Don’t be a baby. The ball didn’t hit you that hard.”
“I dunno.”
“Jade did it by accident. She was trying to hit the tree.”
Shane nods his agreement. His eyes are fixed on the road ahead. He takes driving safety very seriously. Ilya simultaneously loves this about him, and finds it ridiculous.
“Did you have fun?” He asks, watching Shane drive.
Shane nods again, once. “Yeah. It was nice.”
“Next time, we should see if she wants to get a sitter and go out for dinner.”
“Next time?” Shane asks.
“Yes. Next time.”
He doesn’t argue any further, which Ilya takes some satisfaction in.
Having friends outside your hockey team is hard. This information is nothing new. It used to be so easy for Ilya to be friends with Svetlana, to have dinner and drinks with her and get to speak Russian, to have someone to sleep with who would hold him after if he wanted it, or take her own side of the bed if he didn’t, who would listen to him and argue with him and encourage him. Svetlana lives in Boston, though, and Ilya does not. He makes a point of seeing her when he is in Boston, but a part of him misses just having her around. Calling her if he decided he wanted a night out. Showing up at her house at one in the morning, if he wanted to, if he was lonely or horny back before he had fallen too hard f0r Shane to accept any one else’s body against his. The sex between them had always been nice. But there was no hunger there, no magnetism, no need. Not even a want, really. More like a comfortable means to an end. For the two of them, having sex was no more or less significant than the time Ilya had gone over to her apartment to help her build an IKEA dresser. Just friend stuff.
They hadn’t had sex after they finished building the dresser. If Ilya was building an IKEA dresser with Shane, they’d have to stop at least once to have sex, because Ilya would start sweating and take his shirt off, or Shane would get that look in his eye he gets when he’s trying to do something precise and it would distract Ilya. That was the difference. He loves Svetlana, but there’s no urgency, no obsession there.
But Ilya knows that to actually be friends with someone, you can’t just eat pizza with them and then play with their kids once. Friendship is partially routine. A routine he has, regrettably, mostly lost with Svetlana. But Shane and Jackie need to be friends – he’s set on it – and that requires routine. So, yes. He will make sure there is a next time. He will force the routine on them, if necessary.
+
“A Russian bakery in Montreal?” Shane repeats, a bit confused, his hair sticking up in the back as he squints at his morning coffee. The January snow falls heavily out the window, a world of white so all-encompassing that Coach canceled practice and told everyone to stay off the roads.
“Yes. Brand new, just opened. I want to go.”
“Okay, we can go some day off,” Shane says. “Sure.” He sips his coffee.
Ilya nods, watching him. He has ulterior motives. They’d sent Christmas presents for the Pike children, and gotten a FaceTime call while the kids opened the presents, but Hayden had been involved in that. It had been polite. All four adults had maintained focus on the kids. Shane had been really quiet after. But now, he has a new plan.
“I want to make a trip of it,” he says. “Take my husband to a nice hotel and have a romantic getaway.”
“A romantic getaway to the city I lived in for eleven years?” Shane asks.
“Well, we get breakfast at the Russian bakery in the morning. They did not have that for eleven years.”
“I mean, sure. If you want to.”
“I found a hotel,” he says. “It is fancy and has a rooftop bar.”
Shane nods again. “Okay.”
“We drive over in the afternoon. Check into hotel.” He pauses. “And then Jackie comes to the hotel bar and we have dinner and drinks together.”
“Oh,” Shane says. “I see what you’re doing.”
“I booked a room. Your parents will take care of Anya. And Jackie already has a sitter.”
“You already planned it,” Shane observes.
“Yes.” Less chance Shane shuts it down this way. Ilya had called Jackie the day before and confirmed the plans. She’d been almost giddy. And he’d talked to David, too, about taking Anya, which the Hollanders were happy to do. “We will go on Tuesday after morning practice and come home Wednesday before the home game on Thursday. Hayden will be in Seattle so no party pooper. Dinner reservation is at seven p.m. at the hotel bar. It will be fun. You will wear something slutty but nice.”
Shane laughs a little. He rubs at his eyes, but he nods. “Okay. Sure. Assuming this storm passes.”
+
The drive to Montreal is snowy but tolerable, and the hotel lobby is fancy. It’s all gilded furniture, high-backed velvet sofas, marble flooring, and a massive Greek fountain in the middle, koi fish swimming amongst the statuettes. Ilya checks in with Shane shadowing him awkwardly, which is how he always behaves in places like this.
“Holy shit, Shane Hollander,” the kid at the desk blurts out involuntarily. “I mean – sorry. Welcome. I’m a fan. I grew up watching you play on the Metros.”
Ilya wishes the kid hadn’t mentioned the Metros.
“Uh, no worries,” Shane says with that awkward smile he reserves for meeting fans. “Nice to meet you, uh–” he glances at the guy’s name tag, pinned onto his suit jacket – “Andy.”
“If you guys need anything, call and ask for me,” he says. “I’ll make sure you get VIP treatment.”
Shane nods a few times, and Ilya figures it’s time to rescue him from this interaction. “Thank you, Andy. We appreciate it. We will do that.” He picks up the little folder of key cards from the counter and takes Shane by the arm, leading him toward the elevators.
“It’s kinda weird people still like me here,” Shane comments.
“No it isn’t. You are still the second best hockey player in the world. He is, what, Gen Z, yes? They aren’t homophobic like the older generations are. He probably doesn’t care.”
“It’s not just that, it’s the whole rivals thing. I dunno.” Shane doesn’t acknowledge the ‘second best hockey player’ jab, which is a breach in their normal routine of Ilya razzing him and Shane overreacting to it. Ilya glances him over, a bit worried. His eyebrows are nudged together as they often are when he’s too far in his head.
“Rivals, who are the rivals?” Ilya asks as the elevator dings open, figuring he’ll take a softer approach. “You are not my rival. You are my linemate. We are on the same team. And you are my husband, who I love very much.”
+
“A suite for my sweetheart,” Ilya says with a smug grin as Shane takes in their hotel room a moment later. It’s old timey, gold and velvet and silk, but clean and fresh-smelling. The sitting room features a large emerald green velvet sofa, and on the coffee table in front of it, chilled champagne and two champagne flutes.
“This is a lot,” Shane half-laughs. He sets his duffel bag down on the desk.
“I wanted it to be a romantic getaway. Not the Holiday Inn we are usually sleeping at.”
“This definitely isn’t the Holiday Inn.”
Ilya wanders to the door that leads into the bedroom and nudges it open. A king bed, made up in crisp white sheets with velvet throw pillows, with marble side tables. Through the bathroom door, he can see the enormous walk-in shower and the claw foot tub. He has plans for that shower later.
He glances at Shane, that cute, surprised look on his face, still wearing the little knit hat he’d pulled on to keep his ears warm. Well. Maybe they can try out the shower now. Just to see if it works. They aren’t meeting Jackie for a few hours, anyway, and Ilya has a feeling Shane needs his mind taken off some things. He knows exactly how to accomplish that.
Ilya shrugs out of his jacket and lets it fall to the floor, approaching his unassuming husband like he’s a prey animal.
+
“I said slutty,” Ilya drawls from the bed later as he watches Shane get dressed.
“I don’t – what’s wrong with this?” Shane asks, looking down at his light blue button down shirt. “My mom got it for me.”
Ilya rolls his eyes. “Yes, I know she did. A closet full of them. You did not bring any other options?”
Shane huffs a little, and reaches into his duffel. He pulls out a navy blue knit sweater Ilya doesn’t recognize. Probably new, probably also picked out by Yuna, who likes seeing Shane in blue and takes it upon herself to encourage her son not to wear gym clothes everywhere.
“Now that is slutty, moya lyubov.”
“How? It’s a sweater!”
“Put it on.”
A bit of warmth in his cheeks, Shane takes the blue button down off and neatly folds it. Ilya enjoys the view of Shane just in his grey Levi’s, folding laundry, a fixed look in his big brown eyes. He sets it on the chair next to the bed and pulls on the navy blue sweater, knit in the fisherman style with a diamond pattern in the yarn. Ilya nods approvingly.
“Sweater, and glasses. Sleeves pushed to your elbows.”
“I’m not going to wear my glasses. I don’t have to read anything.”
“How will you read the menu?”
“I’ll manage.”
“Fine, fine.” Ilya stretches lazily. He hops up. “Are you ready?”
“You aren’t dressed slutty. Why do I have to dress slutty if you aren’t?” Shane asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
Ilya looks down at his clothes, a black denim jacket over a white button down that he’s barely bothered buttoning and a pair of dark red slacks. “What are you talking about? This is slutty.”
“Alright,” Shane exhales, as if resigned to losing the battle.
“You don’t understand what it is to dress slutty.” Ilya shakes his head, slowly, several times. “Maybe someday I will teach you.”
“You know I don’t know anything about clothes.”
“Mm, at least you finally fired that horrible stylist. The white suit. So funny.”
“Can we just go? The reservation is in six minutes. I don’t want to leave Jackie waiting.”
“Yes, yes,” Ilya says with a laugh, slinging his arm around Shane’s shoulders and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Let’s go.”
+
The rooftop bar is definitely swanky, but it isn’t loud like a lot of bars are. Ilya had purposefully checked on this before booking. Loud didn’t work with his plans – it would get Shane all worked up inside, and it would make it harder to have a real conversation. The host who answered the phone last week and was greeted with a Russian-accented voice asking “hi, is your bar loud?” had sounded a bit confused, but she’d given him good information. No, it’s not loud. It’s small and intimate, and not particularly echoey. He’d said great, thanks, and put in the reservation right then and there.
Now that he’s here in person, he can confirm that she told the truth. Gentle jazz music flows out of unseen speakers, and there are only four other tables in use. Probably because it’s the middle of the week.
A waiter shows them to their table– a booth, which they sit on the same side of, Ilya against the wall and Shane on the edge. Ilya orders a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon for the table with three glasses, and then scoffs at the food menu once the waiter has departed.
“This is in French,” he grumbles.
“It’s okay. I speak French.”
“Yes, but you are bad at ordering.”
Shane rolls his eyes. “So I’ll translate it for you.”
“Hi, guys!”
Ilya looks up to find Jackie, dressed in a dusty lavender satin slip dress that Hayden would be beyond lucky to see her in. Her dark hair falls in loose waves around her shoulders, and she has more makeup on than Ilya has ever seen her wear. He grins at her.
“Hello, sorry, this seat is reserved for our friend Jackie, so we can’t just give it to some random movie star.”
She blushes a bit at his joke, and laughs. Shane stands up to hug her, and Ilya follows.
“You look beautiful,” he adds as he hugs her.
“Oh, thanks. You guys look pretty handsome yourselves.”
They take their seats just as the waiter comes back with the wine. He pours a little in a glass for Ilya to check, which is a bit of pageantry he always enjoys engaging in. “Yes, it’s good. Thank you.”
The waiter nods and pours it. “Are you ready to order food?” He asks in French-accented English.
“Presque prêt,” Shane says smoothly. “Nous devons regarder encore une fois.”
Ilya almost wants to roll his eyes. Two languages, now learning his third, and he makes it look so easy. He also casually mentioned to Ilya once that he had learned some Japanese one summer with his mom.
“D’accord,” the waiter says cheerfully, and wanders off.
Shane looks at the menu. “Uh, huîtres, that means oysters… I don’t wanna eat raw oysters though, you can get really sick… this one is like, little toasts with goat cheese, greens, and mushrooms… calamari sauteed in white wine… scallops with something and something puree, I’m not sure what those words are. Marinated olives. And a cheese and cured meats plate with some fruit on it. And truffle fries.”
“One of everything,” Ilya shrugs. “But no raw oysters.” He glances to Jackie, who is sipping her wine. “Does that sound good? You are not allergic to shellfish, right?”
She shakes her head. “No allergies here. Sounds amazing. And this wine is great.”
Ilya watches Shane pick up his glass out of the corner of his eye and sip it. Good. The wine will help him relax a bit. Not all the way, because he is, after all, still Shane Hollander. But it’ll help a little.
+
The first bottle of wine goes quickly, though Shane’s glass still has a few sips left in it by the time Jackie and Ilya are ordering cocktails.
“I took an Uber,” Jackie says cheerfully once the cocktails are down. “Didn’t want to waste an opportunity to actually have a good time, you know? An actual adult dinner where I don’t have to tell Ruby to stop pulling Jade’s hair or bargain with Arthur about eating vegetables.”
“Must be tiring,” Ilya notes, wondering what Hayden is doing right now. Probably jerking off in a hotel room. Ilya hopes he inexplicably loses his boner before he can finish, or he accidentally thinks about his grandma and it ruins the experience.
“I mean, I wouldn’t trade it for anything, but it is definitely tiring.” She sips her cocktail, which is purple. Ilya tries his, which is not purple, but is delicious.
“It is really nice to have a night out,” Jackie goes on. “So thank you. For inviting me.”
“Of course,” Shane says too quickly. He squirms a bit in his seat. Picks up his wine glass and takes the tiniest sip known to man.
“How’s the season going?” She asks. “It looks like you guys have been winning!”
“Oh, yes,” Ilya answers with a grin. “Come to our game against the Metros next month and we will show you how good we have gotten at winning.”
“Maybe I’ll get a babysitter and bring the twins,” Jackie says. “They’d love seeing you guys play against Hayden. And they love the soft pretzels at the rink.”
“Yes, please do,” Ilya says, nodding.
Shane is staring hard at the table. Ilya knows he’s uncomfortable.
Maybe talking about the Metros is a bad idea. Change the subject.
Ilya flounders a bit trying to find a new one.
“This is so good,” he settles for, taking another bite of the calamari. “I’ve only had it fried with breading. It’s good like this.”
“It’s really good,” Shane agrees quickly.
“This place is really cool. I bet it’s fun in the summer, when you can sit outside on that terrace.” She gestures to the wall made of glass, which shows a lightly snow-dusted terrace. “The fire tables and all that.”
“Yes,” Ilya agrees. “We will have to come back.”
“Yeah. I’m sure Hayden would love to come here and catch up with you guys.”
“I’m gonna find the restroom,” Shane says abruptly, standing and leaving.
Ilya and Jackie both watch him go.
Once he’s far enough away, Jackie leans forward toward Ilya. “Okay, what’s going on here?”
Ilya sips his drink. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, this is the second time now you’ve gone out of your way to hang out with me while Hayden is gone. Shane and I have never hung out without Hayden. And now I mention Hayden and Shane scampers off. Something’s weird.”
Ilya nods once, looking down at his drink, wondering how much he should say.
“Is it because Hayden outed you guys?” She asks, a little quieter. “Because… yeah, that was careless. And I’d understand if he was having a hard time with it.”
“No, no,” Ilya says quickly. If he were to make a list of Hayden Pike’s crimes – and he has, many times, in his head– that stupid fanmail video would be fairly low on it. “It’s more than that. I don’t know if it’s good for me to get into it without Shane here. But basically… he wants to be friends with you, but he feels uncomfortable with Hayden. That’s the main part of it.”
Jackie nods a few times, slowly, and sips her drink. “I get that. Hayden hasn’t… been the best about Shane being gay.”
“Yes,” Ilya agrees, feeling a weird shock of relief that Jackie understands. “Exactly. I have tried with him. You know? I have tried to be friends. He is nasty to me. This doesn’t bother me so much, but it bothers Shane a lot.”
“For the record, I’ve talked to him about that,” Jackie says a little unhappily. “I notice it too. I don’t like it. And I’m sorry.”
Ilya shakes his head. “You have nothing to apologize for. It’s not your fault how he acts.”
“Well, I’m sorry anyway. I really like you guys. And my kids do too. I want us to spend time together. And I get if Hayden can’t be a part of that, at least not right now.”
Shane is back then, sliding into the booth, and he reaches for his wine. “Hey,” he says.
“Hey,” Jackie returns with a grin. “I was just about to tell Ilya about the girls’ parent-teacher conferences. You’re not going to believe what Jade did. I didn’t know whether to laugh or ground her.”
“Oh, yeah?” Shane asks with the ghost of a smile. “What did she do this time?”
Ilya watches, pleased that Shane seems at least slightly more comfortable now, and washed in appreciation for Jackie’s ability to understand.