Brenna

Ella and Melody are standing behind me as I gather the gift basket we put together for Shea. He's just gotten out of surgery, which took about thirty minutes. The sedatives will last much longer, but I want to be there when he wakes up. Which is why I'm gathering all the goodies now.

"Melody," I say. "Could you manage the balloons? I won't be able to carry the basket if I carry the balloons, too." There's a small snicker in my voice.

Hah. Ball-oons. I can literally make a joke about everything today.

Melody gives me a look, her lips twisted to the side as if she's trying to prevent herself from laughing. She gives her head a soft shake and looks away, grabbing the balloons from the back of the vehicle. "Just to let you know, if Kal ever decides to follow Shea's footsteps, we can't celebrate. He'll eat this shit up."

"So will Shea," I smile. "Hence the reason we're doing it. And if KJ ever gets a vasectomy, then we need to double the antics. He needs a cake in the shape of a dick and everything."

To my right, Ella snorts. When I look at her, she's leaning against the vehicle for support, nearly pissing herself. Ever since I presented the idea, Ella's been helping me put the basket together. Melody did, too, but Ella was invested.

She wants to make sure Shea knows she had a hand in this because their relationship is very dependent on banter and sarcasm. After some thorough effort, she found some fantastic ideas and a couple of products off of Etsy. First, she found the T-shirt that says All juice, no seeds and has a picture of a glass of orange juice with two large navel oranges on either side. Second, she found a card that says Sorry about your nuts and has a sketch of two walnuts with a knife embedded in them.

It's a good thing Shea has a sense of humour, otherwise he might find these offensive. Some of them, like the Sour Patch Kids candy with the words 'Sour Patch' covered by a piece of paper that says No, are a little controversial. If he had any reproductive issues, I never would give him something like this. But I know Shea. Plus, he made the decision to get a vasectomy.

"Sorry," Ella gasps, wiping the tears from her cheeks. She straightens her posture, but she's still leaning against the vehicle. "But all of these jokes are killing me. I can't wait to see Shea's reaction. Especially when he's high on pain meds."

"The underwear are my favourite," I laugh, holding them up. They're a pair of grey boxer shorts with a picture of an eggplant and the saying Recreational Use Only. "Also, Shea is hilarious when he's high. He had his appendix removed after we graduated from high school, and when I went to visit him at the hospital, he was a mess. Not in a bad way, but still a mess. He loses his filter and has way too much lazy energy."

"So he's Drunk Shea?" Melody quips. "With an extra dose of slow motion."

"Pretty much," I laugh. Grabbing the basket, I close the hatch and lock the vehicle. Then I make sure everyone's ready to go.

We look like clowns with the balloons and basket. Ella's also carrying her own gift for Shea. She refuses to tell me what it is, so I'm dying to know. When it comes to finding the perfect gifts for people, she's a mastermind. Last year, she bought me a candle called 'The Hottest Athletes Play Hockey' and it smelled like sage and cypress with an underlying hint of vanilla. It was the perfect candle because it smelled like a mix of my perfume and Shea's cologne.

As we're heading into the hospital, we chat about our upcoming girls night. Next week, we're heading to Whistler for a girls weekend. We're meeting Catina and Evren there. Although it's supposed to be a trip for hiking and hanging out, I know at least one night will turn into a shit show. When we're drinking gin smashes and testing out new margarita flavours...

It's best the things we do stay behind closed doors.

"I'm excited," Ella smiles. "I haven't seen Evren and Catina for months."

Melody's a little nervous. "I'm looking forward to meeting them. I just hope you didn't invite me because you would've felt bad if you hadn't."

My lips pull to the side in a sympathetic smile. Because Melody and KJ live in Montreal, we don't see them as much as we'd like to. Don't get me wrong. We FaceTime and are constantly active on social media, but it's not the same as physically seeing each other. Whenever they arrive for a visit, it takes her a couple of days to get used to hanging out again. Which is perfectly normal. There's always a hint of awkwardness when reuniting with friends.

Ella's mouth drops open. "Melody! No! We genuinely want you to be there. Catina and Evren can't wait to meet you, too. Please don't think that we're pitying you!"

Melody adjusts her grip on the balloons. "Sorry. You know how I get. I've never met them and I overthink. What if they don't like me?"

I sense an underlying meaning to her words. Recovering from a serious illness can evoke anxiety. Although Melody made it through breast cancer, she's had some bad spells with people.

One of KJ's teammates thought she was bullshitting everyone so she could spend more time with KJ. That asshole was just pissed they couldn't function as a team without their best player. Hence the reason Shea slammed him into the boards when Vancouver played against Montréal. Call me petty, but it was fun to watch.

It's similar to how I've had bad spells with the press—especially when I was playing for Canada's women's Olympics team. News of my eating disorder came out and I was critiqued under a microscope by everyone.

What I'm trying to say is that I can understand her insecurities. Cancer is by far much worse, but revealing you have a history with eating disorders comes with similar effects. People become uncomfortable when they don't know what to say. Or they'll say the wrong thing. Sometimes, they'll just be assholes and try to guilt you into degrading yourself.

"They'll love you," I say, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Catina can be a little pushy, like me, but she won't press for information. Plus, if you tell her to fuck off, she'll love you even more. And Evren is sweet and always respects boundaries. She won't ask questions unless you give her permission to."

Melody's lips, which are painted black, curve into a small smile. "I don't doubt that. It just grates on my nerves, y'know?"

Ella and I both nod. Of course we know. As women, there are inevitable feelings of nervousness that plague us. Some of these are induced by the patriarchy while others are totally self-conscious. Either way, we've been in her position before.

"We'll have fun," Ella says. "But if you continue to feel uncomfortable, then we can switch gears." She gives her a nudge. "Like getting shit-faced and forgetting why we're there."

Melody laughs. "I can't hold my liquor as well as you and Brenna."

"Then you'll be in the same boat as Evren. She's a lightweight, too."

At this point, we're approaching the elevators. The smells of lemon disinfectant and antiseptic is strong, making my nose burn. My shoes squeak against the white linoleum flooring as we come to a stop. I press the up button, and we step back, waiting for the elevator to arrive. When the elevator dings and the doors open, we step inside and Ella presses the floor button.

"Do you think he'll be awake?" Melody asks. The balloons rest against the ceiling of the elevator and the strings are bent. It's a good think no one else joined us in here. "Also, Kal is gonna be pissed when he finds out we visited Shea without him."

I wave her off. "You're both coming over for dinner in a couple of days. He'll get over it. Besides, he's not allowed to visit right now because Shea's high. Can you imagine the blackmail KJ would use?"

"True," she muses.

The elevator eases to a stop, and then there's a loud ding. We file out into the hallway, earning some peculiar stares from nurses and people I'm assuming are relatives of patients. Some of them eye our balloons and the basket hanging from my arm.

I keep my head held high. Shea got a vasectomy. Although it's not a particularly invasive surgery, he made this choice to benefit me. He didn't want me to suffer from the effects of birth control. So I think he deserves some laughter.

The hallways are stark compared to the lobby area of the hospital: white walls, a few framed photos, and white flooring. Shea's in a private room because with a vasectomy, he's not required to go into the ICU. Once the sedatives have worn off, he'll be coming home.

At the last door on the left, we stop and I rap my knuckles against it. Several seconds pass before a nurse opens the door.

"Brenna," she smiles. "Good to see you again. Shea's doing well." She glances over her shoulder. "He was just asking about you, actually."

"Thanks, Amy." I jerk my thumb over my shoulder. "These are my friends, Ella and Melody. They're here to help me babysit my boyfriend."

Amy chuckles, tucking a piece of her mousy brown hair behind her ear. "I'll leave you to it, then. If anything happens, just press the green button on the panel. It'll send me a notification. But you already know all that."

"Thanks," I smile.

We step aside and let Amy through, and then file into the small room. There's a mediocre window above and to right of the bed, letting in a steady stream of natural light. The rest of the room is filled with basic medical equipment (IV, bed, various machines) and a couple of chairs beside the bed. There's a door to the left that provides access to a private bathroom.

"Brenna!"

Shea's laying in the bed. He's dressed in a hospital gown and the covers are pulled up to his torso. There's an IV in the back of his right hand. I'm assuming it's keeping him hydrated.

When I come to the side of the bed, I set the basket down near his feet. Ella and Melody linger at the foot of the bed. The balloon slowly dance because of the air coming from the ceiling vent.

Smiling, I take Shea's hand and give it a squeeze. I'm careful of the IV. "Shea. How're you feeling?"

With his other hand he holds up his thumb. "Fan-fucking-tastic, Bren." He points to his lower area. "I can't feel a fucking thing and my head feels like it's stuffed with cotton candy."

I exchange a glance with Ella and Melody. They're both looking at the ground, trying not to laugh. When I return my attention to Shea, he has a lopsided grin on his lips.

"That's great," I say. "The nurse said the surgery went well. I'm glad you're able to come home tonight."

He makes an exaggerated pouty face. "But we can't fuck, which sucks."

Either Ella or Melody snorts—I can't tell who.

Shea turns his head and looks at them. His face lights up. "Ella! Melody!" He looks back at me. "Brens, you brought frens."

He's not slurring, but his voice is slow. Just like his movements. And when he tries to focus on something, his eyes droop.

I bite my bottom lip. His pronunciation of 'friends' is way off, and I know he did that on purpose for the sake of rhyming his words.

Clearing my throat, I say, "Yeah. We also brought you some gifts." I tap the basket with my free hand. "Just some special vasectomy-themed goodies."

He releases my hand and uses his upper body strength to straighten his posture against the pillows. Then I make sure they're supportive enough that he's not straining anything. The last thing we need is Shea overworking himself and potentially harming his dick.

I'm a full-on intersectional feminist, but that completely falls to the wayside when we're fucking around. I love his dick just as much as I love him.

When he's comfortable, I pass him the basket.

He removes a packet of Milk Duds, only the word 'Milk' has been covered by a piece of paper cut into the shape of a dick. My blocky writing is scribbled across, depicting the word 'shooting.'

"Shooting duds," Shea reads. His brain takes a moment to comprehend what it means, and then he's laughing. It's a little wheezy. He also winces in pain. But he continues to laugh. "Fuck, Bren. That's a good one!"

We watch as he pulls out every little goodie. From the T-shirt to the boxers to the candies Ella and I edited with construction paper, Sharpies, tape, and scissors.

By the end, he's opened the package of beef jerky. On it, there's a note that says Because...being jerked around is tough. He tears off a piece between his teeth and chews slowly.

"My favourite," he states. "Is the Swedish Fish." He looks at me through his long lashes. "It really was time to retire the swim team...and the condoms."

Before Shea can continue with his vulgar talk, Ella steps forward and holds her present out to Shea. It's a small-sized box with a single bow on top. "This is from me."

Shea drops his piece of beef jerky back in the bag, and then takes the present from Ella. He gives the box a little shake.

"What's inside?"

Ella grins. "Open it and you'll find out."

"No fucking shit," Shea says.

Ella rolls her eyes. "Just open it, asshole."

Shea doesn't hesitate. He removes the lid from the box and sets it down beside him. Then he rummages through the tissue paper until he finds what he was looking for. After removing the tissue paper, I see it's a white beer can cooler with basic black text that says You got snipped, but you're definitely still equipped.

Ella's grin doesn't fade as she lifts one shoulder. "This one is more for you and Brenna." She eyes me, and I feel a smile tugging at my lips. "When she gets drunk, she likes to brag. Melody does the same thing."

"You do it, too!" Melody exclaims. "You're always talking about Ryland's..." She pauses, her cheeks pink. "You know what."

Shea chuckles. "You haven't spent enough time with KJ, Melody. Don't worry. We'll get you speaking dirty very soon." Shea pauses and rubs his eyes. "Speaking of Jones... where is that bastard? He didn't come to make sure I was okay? What kind of friend does that?"

Melody rolls her eyes. "Potential blackmail."

"Figures," Shea mutters. He turns his attention back to the can insulator, smiling. "Yeah. This one wins. Sorry, Bren. Ella one-upped you."

I smile. "That's okay. All we came here to do was make you smile. Looks like it's working."

Shea, who looks exhausted, lets his head fall to the side. He closes his eyes. "Don't worry, Bren. My dick'll work again—it just won't get you pregnant. It's fucking invincible."

Ella and I exchange another glance, smiling. That is something Drunk Shea would say for sure.

Melody joins us at the side. "You know what? I would've sold my soul to see Kal here. He always has an arsenal of comments."

Ella and I nod in agreement.

"No nuts are allowed," Shea says. "Nuts are bad."

His comment is so unexpected, we all have a brief moment of silence before we're laughing. No-Filter Shea is funny as hell, but I'm relieved to see that the man I love is okay and happy.

He gives my hand a squeeze. "I love the basket, Bren."

I lean down and give him a kiss on the forehead. "And I love you, Shea."