Play the Man: Post 18

Chapter Eleven: FINALLY, geez.

This scene takes place a few days later, and apparently the Caravaggio painting is still a major sticking point between Jenna and Ryan. He still has zero interest in seeing it, even briefly to make Jenna happy, and she “didn’t think it was supposed to be that much of a sacrifice if he loved her” (71). I have to agree here. Personally, I’ve done more for people I like a lot less than one is supposed to like one’s fiancé.

She was also waiting for a sign to know if it was time to simply call it quits, label this a lesson learned, and move on (71).

The narrative is unclear as to whether the above pondering is about calling it quits on this particularly disagreement or the whole relationship. If the latter? YES. YES, IT’S TIME TO CALL IT QUITS. OMG, YES. And that has nothing to do with going for Nick instead; it has everything to do with being a whole person who respects herself, good grief.

The Caravaggio is one of Jesus revealing himself to two disciples and the narrative tries to make a connection between this and Jenna’s own need of revelation.

…she wished that someone would appear to her and point her in the right direction, tell her if it was worth it to try and stick it out with Ryan or end it (71).

Oh trust me, Jenna, if I could appear to you, I would happily do so, shouting all the while to “END IT.” Sadly, I can’t even end this book as there’s nearly 100 pages left in it.

Meanwhile, we learn that Nick has been reevaluated for his concussion and apparently while he’s improving, he still needs someone around, so he’s still staying with Jenna and Ryan. Oh that real-world concussions were so plot convenient! (I know some people who have gotten very nasty concussions from hockey and were not required to have someone around all the time. And these were concussions that were bad enough to keep them from playing for months. Nick is expected to be back on the ice in another week or so, but he still needs constant care? I call shenanigans.)

In fact, the text itself seems unclear as to how Nick is feeling. He’s well enough that he’s the one attending this museum trip with Jenna, which proves awkward when they run into Jenna’s art-friend Katie, who assumes that he must be Ryan. Because the point of view jumps around all the time, we know learn that this mistaken identity causes him irritation. Yet a page later, we’re told that his concussions symptoms have passed (so why does he need someone around other than plot reasons?) and that he’s “back to his old self—controlled and calm” (73). Irritation at a logical mistaken identity doesn’t sound controlled and calm to me.

And his calm doesn’t show up later, either. The two of them get home to Jenna (and Ryan)’s house and she’s annoyed that Ryan is out, without leaving a message. Nick flips out.

“Stop it, Jenna! I can’t just sit by and watch this anymore” (74).

Um. This is out of character from what we’ve been told, even if not so much what we’ve seen. And it’s a really weird reaction. This is where Nick flips? Because Ryan inconsiderately didn’t leave a note? So many other things have occurred in this book that Nick could have gotten angry about.

Jenna assumes that Nick is upset that he’s been put in the middle—his friendship with Jenna versus being Ryan’s teammate. He clarifies that Jenna deserves better than how Ryan has been treating her. Jenna finally asks what she does deserve.

His hockey instincts took over and his body reacted. He closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against hers (74).

I… don’t recall ever seeing anyone play hockey and kiss someone during a game. I don’t see how kissing can be a hockey instinct. I mean, there was that one time Steve Ott leaned over during a face-off and licked Jeff Halpern’s visor.  So, I mean, anything is possible. (Seriously.Licked his visor.) Okay, I know, I know, the author doesn’t mean that kissing is a hockey instinct, but what she does mean is very unclear.

One thing leads to another, which includes “filling the void that had been left within her” (74) (not a euphemism!) and they silently have sex. Jenna doesn’t want to say his name in the bed she shares with Ryan. I’m not sure what Nick’s reasoning is. The description of the sex goes on for several pages, whereas it basically fades to black whenever Jenna is with Ryan, so you know that Nick must be the one for her. Also, they climax simultaneously, which is always a romance novel sign.

The chapter ends on a cliffhanger—as the two of them are still in bed, albeit staring at the ceiling, they hear the front door open. So I shall leave this post here on a cliffhanger as well. 

Stay tuned—will Ryan discover the couple in flagrante delecto? Will Jenna finally end things with Ryan or keep telling herself he’s worth it?

Play the Man: Post 16

Chapter Ten: TStL??

Nick’s Concussion of Magical Convenience has improved so much overnight that while he has a headache when he wakes, that’s the only symptom remaining other than some difficulty making decisions quickly. He’s not confused and he’s hungry. He even has the wherewithal to eavesdrop on the argument that Ryan and Jenna have about the Caravaggio. He sits down to breakfast and when she sees him looking at the notice about the painting, they start to talk about it. At Jenna’s query about when she might ever get to see it again, he suggests going to London, and she demurs, saying she can’t use Ryan’s money because she didn’t earn it. I guess she’s okay that “he pays the rent and he buys the groceries” but beyond that she’s uncomfortable using his money. (She doesn’t have a job. Who is paying for her graduate classes? Who is paying for her clothing?)

The text is suggesting that Jenna is not a gold-digger; she doesn’t want Ryan for his money. (I’m confused as to why she wants Ryan at all, but that’s beside the point.) Since Nick wants someone who wants him for himself, not someone who wants him for his fame or money, this point is probably here to prove just that, that she’s a proper candidate (which is good because he’s already head over heels for her.)

The justification the narrative gives for Jenna’s monetary choices is that she’d be fine with taking a trip to London if it were with Ryan, but since he’s not interested in art, and can’t get him to a museum in Chicago, then there’s no way she could get him to London. So, rent and groceries can be paid for with Ryan’s cash, travel without him cannot. I still want to know then who’s paying for all of her other things.

The narrative never shows Jenna buying or wearing flashy clothes, but she’s described as “classy” and her parents have “socialite friends” so I have to assume she’s also not shopping at Walmart. She may not be driving a fancy car, but she’s also not taking public transportation (she drove Nick places.) She’s very clearly not a teaching assistant in her graduate program, since the text makes a point of how busy she is with charity work that she can only take a few classes (meaning there’s no time for TA work), so she must be paying out of pocket for the her classes. Why is she even taking those classes, I wonder. As Ryan’s hockey wife, she can’t expect to use the degree in any meaningful way. I really don’t see Ryan letting his wife work, even if she had the time with the charity work she’d still be doing for the Blackhawks (or wherever Ryan could get traded). If she’s simply taking the classes for fun, which I totally get, then she shouldn’t be so stressed over them because grades wouldn’t matter. And she could put the degree on hold while she’s planning this (stupid) wedding.

I guess that this conversation seems like a slipshod way of telling (and not showing) readers that Jenna isn’t just sponging off of Ryan. Because she *is* just sponging off of Ryan, just to a slightly lesser degree than she could be. If she were truly concerned about it, she could get a job (instead of classes, perhaps, if timing is an issue). And while wives and girlfriends are certainly expected to partake in the charity events, I can’t imagine it’s mandatory. What would they do if she didn’t attend? Would Ryan be fired from the team for not making a good example as a captain because Jenna didn’t participate? Ryan is already a terrible example of a captain!

At any rate, Nick offers to take Jenna to see the Caravaggio, so that’s in the works.

Also, the perspective jumps (as per usual) so we also learn that Jenna is (finally!) having doubts.

Jenna wondered if it was possible to love someone and still not be able to make it work. The Beatles sang “All You Need Is Love” but maybe it took more than just love (68).

I understand wondering this kind of question when it comes to your own predicament. But really? Jenna is at least 25 or 26 (having lived in Chicago for 3 hockey seasons directly out of college, assuming 21 or 22 for graduation). Surely by this point in her life she has seen examples of couples who love each other but couldn’t make it work. Naïveté is one thing but this goes in the same category as the hockey coach’s daughter who couldn’t read a scoreboard (in Body Check).

There’s an acronym that romance readers tend to use when critiquing novels: TSTL. It means Too Stupid to Live and it almost always gets applied to heroines. I won’t, yet, go so far as to say that Jenna is in that category, but she is inching ever closer.

Play the Man: Post 15

Chapter Ten: I Never Expected to Use the Academia Tag So Often

To Ryan’s credit, he doesn’t shirk his duty or complain when it’s his turn to awaken Nick. The patient, however, at first thinks it’s Jenna who’s come to wake him and invites the intruder into his bed. Sorry slash-fans, his response when he realizes it’s Ryan is “Ew, you’re fucking gross, Biggie. What the hell are you doing here?” because he’s forgotten again that he’s not in his own apartment (64).

Ryan suggests they play cards but changes his tune when Nick says he’d been playing strip poker with Jenna. Instead, they go and play Call of Duty on the Xbox. No, no, no, no, no. That’s a TERRIBLE idea for someone with a concussion. Dammit, that would be the last thing any decent doctor would allow. Gah.

Before, however, they can adjourn to the living room and the tv, Ryan insists that Nick put on pants because there’s no way he’ll allow nearly-naked Nick to sit on his couch. Weird.

This is more or less a throwaway scene that lets Ryan know that Nick has a lady friend of some sort (he assumes this when Nick is mostly out of it and suggesting that someone (Jenna) get in bed.)

The next morning, Jenna gets up as usual and does all her morning chores, including making breakfast, but “[t]oday, she had two growing boys to feed” (65). Could that be any more disgustingly motherly? The mothering imagery continues in the narratives description of what Jenna will be doing that day, instead of her usual Thursday activities.

She was supposed to keep an eye on [Nick]; it was going to be perfect practice for when there were kids roaming underfoot (65).

Which would be fine if Nick weren’t being set up to be her romantic partner. I’m all for being motherly if that’s what floats your boat, but to mother your fiancé is kinda gross, particularly since she’s expected to cook for them.

Ryan takes exception to the fact that Jenna cooked both bacon and sausage, since she doesn’t normally on a weekday and says he’d rather she was cooking it for him instead of Nick. Good grief, dude. She already cooks all your meals, gets your groceries, cleans the house, goes to all of your home games, and works with the Blackhawks charity events. You’re miffed because she cooked a little extra since you have an injured houseguest who is also your teammate? I cannot stand this guy.

And my hatred of Ryan gets stronger when Jenna goes through the mail and finds a notice about the Art Institute featuring a borrowed Caravaggio painting. (I’ll have more to say about that in a moment). Jenna asks Ryan to take her to see it, suggesting that they make an evening of it since they spend so little time together. His response?

He groaned. “You know I don’t like art, babe.” … “It’s art. You know I don’t get it” (66 emphasis original).

She’s not even suggesting that they roam the halls of the museum together—she wants to see one single painting and have dinner out. When she points out that she’s supportive of him and that she’s “not asking [him] to… even pretend to care” (66 emphasis original), he accuses her of guilting him into going.

I don’t condone violence in real life. In fiction, however, I hope someone slams Ryan’s head into the ice next game.

Ryan won’t talk about art, but for a moment I will. Well, sort of. First, I think it’s very odd that Jenna finds out about this exhibition of the Caravaggio through the mail since it’s occurring at the very place she goes to graduate school. I’d be shocked if one of her professors didn’t mention it in the classroom or she didn’t hear it from a classmate. And if she didn’t, I’d be triply shocked that she didn’t get an email about the exhibit, something mass-mailed to all the students. Getting the notice in the mail is a convenient way to shoehorn the information into the story at the right time for Jenna to bring it up with Ryan, but it was hardly necessary and not very likely.

Second, upon getting the notice, the narrative explores Jenna’s reaction.

Although she was focusing her studies on more modern art, she loved the Baroque period as well. This was a great opportunity, and she had to go (66 emphasis original).

My last art history class was more than a decade ago, I must admit. But I’m dreadfully confused by the above. The Baroque period started around 1600 in Italy, which I’d say is still broadly considered the Renaissance, or just after. (The Renaissance, of course, didn’t start one day and all of Europe flowered.) Jenna’s comment that she’s focusing on more modern art doesn’t necessarily mean modern art, just something more modern than Baroque, which, fair enough. But 40 pages earlier, as she had lunch with Ryan before he went off to play the Oilers, and he barely listened to her, she said the following.

“…I’m so excited for this semester’s class. Surrealism is so much fun. I mean, it’s not my favorite art movement, I appreciate the realism of Renaissance so much more, but still, I can’t wait. Picasso! Miro! Chagall! Oh, you know how much I love Chagall” (24).

I find it very odd that in the above passage she’s contrasting surrealism (not her favorite movement) to the Renaissance; she doesn’t say that *is* her favorite, but it’s suggested. Yet now Jenna is saying she’s actually focusing on more modern art. Perhaps someone with more art history experience than I can chime in about whether I’m right to find this weird. Baroque is certainly distinct from Renaissance (in some ways), but the latter is not more modern. I suppose it’s possible the author meant that Jenna is focusing on more modern art (ie surrealism) *this semester* but that’s not at all how graduate students talk about their work.

Anyway, the “pressure” from his fiancée wanting him to go out with her to see a single painting and then have dinner is too much for Ryan and he storms out of the house to go to practice, leaving Jenna, Nick, and way too much food.