Page 8 of Scoring Grey

“Pinot for the lady.” The waiter returns, sliding Eloise’s wine across the table before adding, “And a Labatt Blue for Mr. Cal. Can I get the two of you anything else for now?”

Eloise shakes her head. “I haven’t even looked at the menu yet. Can we have a few minutes?”

“No problem, take your time,” he says before scampering toward the bar.

I take a long pull off my beer as I watch Eloise take a small sip of wine. “Is it bad? We can get you another glass.”

“No. It’s fine.” She shakes her head. “I just don’t want to drink too much before I eat.”

I nod, and for once, I’m speechless. I finally have her right where I’ve wanted her for so long, and suddenly, I have no words to say. Yes, Eloise and I talk. We have a child together, but admittedly, this is new-ish territory. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never stopped giving her one-liners, and you better believe I lay on the charm every time I get the chance, but a sit-down one-on-one dinner… This is a first since high school.

For years, she’s kept our interactions limited, quick, and to the point, leaving no room for lingering small talk. Initially, I believed it was because she was upset that I discovered we had a son. When she left me all those years ago, she failed to mention she was pregnant with my child. It was easy to believe that her brief, closed-off encounters were lingering grievances for whatever actions drove her away for good. But as time passed, I noticed her stolen glances. I saw the longing and regret even if she didn’t want me to. The stony façade that was once impenetrable suddenly had cracks, and I’ll be damned if I wasn’t going to be the one to fill them. All these years, I’ve been biding my time, waiting for my moment, and when I couldn’t wait any longer, I forced my hand.

“So where should we start?” she asks as she grabs a menu.

“How about a first date?”

“A first date?” she repeats skeptically.

“Yeah, we haven’t been on a date since high school. We’re both different people now. Why not?”

“Okay… sure,” she says before sipping her wine.

“I’ll start. What do you like to do?” I know what she spends her time doing. I know everything about her, but a few icebreakers to get the conversation flowing are good.

“Me and Ad—” She clears her throat, realizing her slip. “I like to paint.”

Eloise has always enjoyed painting. It’s actually how we officially met; though meeting her was always on my to-do list, it wasn’t on that day, but I love knowing fate’s plans were and are the same as mine. It wasn’t hockey season yet, and I had anywhere to be but home. I’d sign up for anything if it kept me away from my father and his pretentious wife. That afternoon, I was tossing the ball around with a few of the guys while we walked down to our hangout spot, just down the back hill of the football stadium, when I missed the ball, and it flew into the easel she was setting up to paint. To this day, I remember her being so damn mad. She was cursing me out ten ways from Sunday.

I was about to walk off and leave her be because she wasn’t listening to a word of my apologies as I tried to help her pick up the mess I’d inadvertently made until she finally turned her gaze on mine, and I stumbled over the endless depths of her blue eyes. I was hooked, and she was pissed. From that day forward, I made it my mission to be in her space until she gave me the time of day. She did eventually after I volunteered as the live model for her art club. She’s actually a really fucking good painter.

“Have you ever considered selling your paintings?”

Her red-tipped nail circles the rim of her glass. “Yes, but every time I consider it, I feel it will steal the joy the craft brings me. I don’t want painting to become about money or status.”

I get that. Eloise doesn’t need either of those things. She has them both, but you wouldn’t know it. Eloise moved to Copper Falls shortly after Adler was born because she wanted a different life for him than what she had experienced growing up. She wanted him to have a normal life. Growing up with a camera around every corner isn’t easy. When you’re young, you have enough anxiety on your plate trying to figure out who you are without the added stress of trying to fit into a mold society has carved out for you. Eloise didn’t want that for him, nor did I, so we’ve kept him away from the spotlight, so much so that only a few of the guys even know I have a son.

I’m supportive of her choices and can’t say that I disagree with them, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to the day I get to hold him on my shoulders in front of the world. I love him, and I want the world to see the best parts of me, and that’s him and the woman who brought him into this world. The best version of me is the man I am with them. I want what she wants because her dreams are mine, too, even if I’m the only one with the courage to pursue them right now.

“Maybe it comes down to how you look at it. If it were your job, naturally, you would have had more time to do something you enjoy.”

She teeters her head from side to side as she weighs in my words. “That’s one way of looking at it, I suppose.”

“And if you sold a piece, great, and if not, it would just be a bonus because then you get to keep something you enjoyed bringing to life.”

She nods in agreement before taking a drink of her wine and mulling over my suggestion.

“I have an idea. The owner of the Kings hosts a charity auction every year to raise money for Project Hope. What if you painted something for the auction? Then you’re not doing it for the money, so to speak. You’re doing it for a cause.”

The waiter returns with the poutine I ordered and places it on the table. “Are you guys ready to order?”

Her eyes widen when she sees the considerable size of the appetizer in front of us. “I was going to order a burger, but now I think I’ll get the house salad.”

“I’ll take the loaded burger with a side of onion rings,” I say, ordering what I know she would have ordered for herself and hoping she’ll eat mine.

“I’ll put the order in,” he says before disappearing again.

Picking up where we left off, Eloise says, “It’s a good thought, but I don’t have any of my supplies here and?—”

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