ANNE KEMP
Copyright©2024byAnneKemp
Allrightsreserved.
Nopartofthisbookmaybereproducedinanyformorbyanyelectronicormechanicalmeans,includinginformationstorageandretrievalsystems,withoutwritten permissionfromtheauthor,exceptfortheuseofbriefquotationsinabookreview
For all of the readers who take their books with them to dinner, on the train for their daily commute, on vacation, on the plane, to the DMV… tucking their Kindles or that well loved paperback into their bags to sneak in a chapter when time allows (or even when it doesn’t)
I see you.
WhenIboughtmycar afew weeks ago,Ididn’tthinkI’dhavetotakeittotheshopthreetimes inatwo-weektime frame.Seriously.ThisiswhyIstrugglewhenitcomestocommittingtothings.Obviously,somethingisupwithmy carselectionskills
“Well, Riley,” Dubs, our local mechanic, says as he peeks outfromunder the hood ofthe old Toyota Camry. “Notsureifit’syouralternator,couldbeyourradiator,butI’mgoingtoneedtokeepittodaytorunsometests.”
“First, youcan’tgetitto start, thenthree outoffour tires go flat, and now it's a mysteryproblem” Beside me, mybest friend,Dylan,wrapsanarmaroundmyshoulder.“You,myfriend,haveterribleCAR-ma.”
Usingmyelbow,Inudgeherintheribsandbitebackalaugh I’mwaytooirritatedtogiggle,evenifitisagoodpun
“What?”sheexclaims,throwingherhandsintheairwithmockhaughtiness.“Wasthatnotgoodenoughforyou?”
Fine I crack a smile, pulling my lips tight into a thin line I try to show some teeth, but my lips rebel, quivering and contortingintowhatmustlooklikeanexaggeratedgrimace.
“Don’tevenknowifIcanhonorthefriendsandfamilydiscountwiththatface,”Dubsteases.“Whatis that?”
Now,I’mlaughing “Youguys,letmebemadforasecond,okay?”
“No way,” Dylancalls over her shoulder as she heads to the backoffice, motioningfor me to follow her. “We don’tdo angerhereatDubs’Garage Ithinkit’sahouserule”
IwalkintotheconfinedspacewhereDylanworksafewhourseachweek,keepingthebooksforherdad’sgarage.They’ve beengettingbusier,soshe’sbeenspendingmoretimehere,evidencedbyher emergencymedical technicianuniformpiledin thecorner.
“Doingdoubledutytoday?”
Shenods,incliningherheadtowardthedesk “AssoonasIgetthroughthelastbatchofbillsandcallyouaHitchtogetyou tothebookshop,I’mout.”
Iholdmyhands uptoprotest “Youdon’tneedtodothat,Ihave some capabilities Icanuse the appandrequesta ride throughHitchtogettoworkonmyown.”
Swipingherphoneoffthedesk,sheshakesherhead.“Noway.Thirdtimeintwoweeksyou’vebeenhere,girl.Letustake careofyourHitchbecauseyou’recertainlypayingalotofourbillsthismonth.”
She snickers as she pulls up the app onher phone, taps it a few times, thenputs it downintriumph. “Ronaldo will be pickingyouupinhislittlewhiteFiatinlessthanfiveminutes”
“Ronaldo,huh?Ihopehe’sItalianandsmokinghot.”Straighteningmyshirt,Ipointmythumbovermyshouldertothefront door “Didyoutellhimtomeetmeoutfrontoftheshop?”
“No.Isuggestedyoutwomeetdowntheblockatthelaundromat.”Dylanrollshereyes.“Ofcourseheknowstocomehere. Youknowhowitworks.You’vegottenasharedridebefore.”
“Ohshush,I’vebeenthrownoffmygametoday”Ipullmywalletoutofmypurseandwaveitintheair “Doyouguysneed mycreditcardnow?”
“Nope Justgo meetRonaldo and his little white Fiat” She points behind me “Your chariotawaits or atleast, itwill soon.”
“Ha,”Isay,leaningacrossthedesktohugmyfriend “I’lltalktoyoulater”
ImakemywayoutoftheofficeandnavigatethroughthegaragepastthecarsthatarecurrentlyunderDubs’care.Passingby mylittleredCamry,Ikissmyhandandtapthehood,sayingasilentgoodbyeandprayingitworksagainsoon.Nothingisworse thanbuyingacarandthenhavingitstopworkingrightafteryousignthepapersofownership
Adistantringcatches myattention. Lookingaround as Istep outonto the street, Irealize it’s myphone and the sound is comingfrominsidemypurse Shakingmyhead,IdigaroundinmybaguntilIfindthething,thenpullitoutandpressittomy
earwithoutlooking.Dangerous,Iknow.IansweritinmynewwaybecauseI’mdeterminedthatthisismyyear.I’mgoingtobe aseriousprofessionalinallthethings.
Well,fingerscrossed “ThisisRiley.”
Thechuckleontheotherendiswaytoofamiliar “So,mybabysisterannouncesherselfnow?”
“Yes,Travis,Ido.NowthatI’msinkingmysavingsintoacateringbusiness,Ifigureit’sonlysmarttobeginaconversation inapositiveway unlikehowthisoneisgoingnow,”Ifinish,crackingup “Howareyou?”
“Crazybusy.Andyou?Besidesbeingaconsummateprofessionalasyoukeepinsisting.”
“I’mirked,that’showIam.”Sighing,IlookupanddownthestreettokeepaneyeoutforRonaldoandthatFiat.“Mycar’s backintheshop,I’mlatetowork,andMomneedsmetohavethemenureadybytheendoftheweekforthedinnershehasme doing.”
“Dinner?”
“Shecoordinatedacharityauctionfor thelocal foodbank,andsomeonewonadinner attheir homewithaprivatechef. When the original chef who was going to do it had to back out, unbeknownst to me, Dad volunteered yours truly as the substitute.Momquitereluctantlyagreed,inorder tohelpkickstartmynew ‘foray’asshecallsit.Therefore,she’sbeenabit pushy.”
Yes,Ishouldbegratefulforthechance,however,Idonotwanttoomitthefactthatitdidstingfindingoutmyownmother hadtobetalkedintoallowingmetodothis.Iwasnotaskedtodoit,insteadIhadtomakeacaseformyself.Eventhen,she neverconfirmedIhadthejob IonlyfoundoutafterthecharityauctionwasoverthatIwasdoingitwhensomeonecalledmeto setupthedateforthemeal.
Morechuckling.“Pushy,ourmom?Never.”
“Areyoukidding?Talkaboutpressure.It’smyfirstrealgigdoingaprivateeventandknowingwhatIdocouldalsoaffect herreputation,asshekeepsremindingme,makesmyshouldersknotup.”Draggingmytoealongontheconcrete,Ifollowaline inthesidewalk,theoldsaying“steponacrackbreakyourmother’sback”echoinginmyear Ipullmyfootawayfromitasif mymothercanseeme.Ifshedid,she’dprobablyaccusemeoftryingtokillher.“Iswear,Travis,Ijustwantthatwomantobe proudofme Totellmesheisonlyonetime”
“Yeah,Iknow.That’swhyIcalled Ijustgotoffthephonewithher.SheaskedifI’dcomebackandworkwithyoufora night,tohelpserve.”Hissighslamsagainstmyearovertheline.“Shewasprettyrelentless,tothepointItoldhertoleaveit alone. I also reminded her that she’s the one who put your name forward, so she needs to calmdownand trust you. But, I figuredifshewasthatintensewithme,Ishouldcheckinwithyouandseehowyou’redoing.”
Mybigbrother Always the bestfriend a girl could ever askfor Apaininmyrear growingup, since we’re three years apartinage.Buthewasmyheroandprotector,andstillis,really.
“Thanksfortheremindertohireaserver,”Isaywithachuckle “I’mhanginginthere Ijustdon’twanttostressashardas Iam.It’sabitofajuggle.”
Not that I can’t handle it,IthinkasIstepoutintothestreetandcranemyneck,lookingaround.It’saprettystreetinaquiet partofSweetkiss Creek It’sinthebusiness district,butthisparticular endis alsofor moreindustrial businesses likeDubs’ Garage.Across the street,there’s anoldrenovatedVictorianhome witha landscapingcompanyandanattachedarchitecture firm,andarowofbusinessesboastingautopainting,signmaking,kitchenjoinery,andevencarpet
“Anditdoesn’thelpthatI’mlateforworkandwaitingforaride,”Iadd.
“Soon, youwon’t have a boss that youhave to answer to, mydear, because you’ll be the boss” Always encouraging Again,bestbigbrotherever.“Georgieknowsshe’sluckytohaveyouworkingforher,butshealsoknowsit’sapitstoponthe RileyRichardsparadetoawesome.”
“You’reright Plusworkingatthebookstoregetsmefiftypercentoff,sothere’sthat”Aflashofwhiteattheotherendof thestreetcatchesmyeye.Ican’ttellifit’saFiat,soIkeepaneyeonthecarreadytoflagitdownassoonasitcomescloser. “So,whatwereyoucallingMomaboutanyway?”
“Aren’tyouaNosyRosy?”heteases.“Somethinghascomeupandcircumstanceschangedonmeprettyquicklyinthelast fewdaysand,well surprise!I’mintown”
“That’sawesome!”Glancingup,thewhitecarappearstobepullingtoastopabouttwoblocksawayandisnowsittingon thesideofthestreet,hazardsblinking.Squintingmyeyes,I’mprettysureit’saFiat.“Maybewecanhavelunchtoday?”
“Todaycouldbehard IhavebusinessherethatIneedtodealwith,funnilyenough”
Thatisfunnyconsideringmybrotherisasportsagentforseveralhigh-profilecelebritysportsstars.Castingmyeyesdown theroadagain,thewhitecarismovingalongwithitshazardsstillblinking It’scloseenoughnowIcanseetheredcircleofthe Fiatlogoonthefrontofthecar,andIhonestlycan’twaitanymore.
“Whatkindofbusinessisit?”ImanageasIstepintothestreetagain,tuckingthephoneundermychinandholdingittight againstmyshoulderwhileIusebotharmstowavemadlyatthedriveroftheFiat.He’sgottobelost.
“Well,”hebegins,onlytopause.“Ah,Riley,givemeasec,I’vegotaclientontheotherline.”
Thelinegoessilent,butit’sperfecttimingbecausethelittlewhiteFiatwithamanbehindthewheelhaspulledupnextto me.
Assoonasheslowsdown,Istepout,makingsureI’minhisview I’vebeenstandingobscuredtosomedegreeinbetween twocarsparkedonthesideofthestreet.Givinghimawave,Igrabthehandleofthebackdoorandtugitopen.
“Heythere,” Imanage, throwingmyselfinto the backseat “Ineed to getto the Pages and Prose Bookshop atninety-nine MagnoliaTreeLane.”
WhenIdon’tsomuchas geta gruntofrecognitionor acknowledgment,Iturnmyattentiontothe driver inthe frontseat, whoiscurrentlyfrozeninplacewithonehandgrippinghissteeringwheelwhiletheotherholdsaphonetohisearashestares straightahead.Slowlyhiseyesmaketheirwaytotherearviewmirrorandhetiltshisheadtothesideastheynarrow.MaybeI spoketoofastbecausehelooksconfused
“Ninety-nineMagnoliaLane,please?”Peeringoverhisshoulderandoutthewindshield,Ipointdownthestreetinfrontof us “Gototheendofthisstreetandtakearight”
Again,ablankstaremeetsme.I’mabouttopointoutthathecouldputhisphoneonspeakerifhewantstotalkanddrive, butIdon’thaveto Hemuttersagoodbyeandendsthecallhewasonandtosseshisphoneontotheseatnexttohim Finally,he blinks,nodshishead,andputsthecarindrive.
Rightthen,Travisisbackinmyear.“Hey,sorryaboutthat.I’mback.”
“AndI’monmywaytoworknow”Maybe Fingersarecrossedandthejuryisstillout,butwearemoving “Ohgood,”hemumbles.“ThenImaygettoseeyousoon.”
“What’sgoingon?”
“I’llexplainmorewhenIseeyou,butI’vegotoneofmyguyscomingintotowntostayforabreak.” “Oneofyourguys?”
“He’sanicehockeyplayerfortheRiverCityRenegades.Agoodguy,buthe’shadafewhurdleslately.”There’salullin theconversationwhenIhearabeep,signalinganotherincomingcallonhisend.“Hey,Riley,sorry,butIneedtotakethiscall, too Butlook,I’mrightbythebookshop I’llbearoundsoIcansayhibeforeIheadovertoMomandDad’s,okay?” “Sure,butwhy…”TheclickinmyeartellsmethateventhoughI’mnotdone,Travisis.
Sighing,Ithrowmyselfagainstthebackoftheseat,watchingthesceneryofthisquaintsmalltownIliveinbreezepast Thesidewalksaredecoratedwithcheerfulflowerbaskets,burstingwithvibranthuesthatmirrorthewarmthofthelocals here.Antiquelamppostsareadornedwithribbonsofgreeneryandswathedwithfabricreflectingtheseason.Sinceit’stheend of March, the decoratingcommittee has done a pastel greento celebrate bothSt. Patrick’s Dayand Easter, allowingfor a double-dipandgivingthemabreak.Atnight,thelampscastasoftglow,creatinganenchantingatmosphereonourmainstreet.
Passingbyarowofboutiques,IspotthesignsfortheSweetkissCreekSpringFair,whichiscomingupinafewmonths Another oneofmymom’s manypies thather fingers aresolidlyplantedin.Tosayshe’s anintegral partofthecommunityis likesayingGeorgeWashingtonwaskindathefirstPresident She’sthetypeofwomanwhorunsabusinesswithmyfatherand hasherselfspreadthinacrosscommitteesandcommunitygroups,helpingoutandleadingthechargetokeepSweetkissCreek theamazingplaceitistolivenow.
She’sabitofalegend,withher friendsall relyingonher todothings,butfor usathome,shecanbeabitofadictator EvenDadcan’tescapesomedays,buthe’llalwaystellusshemeanswell.
Whenthecar begins deceleratingfor astoplight,Icomeoutofmytouristhazeinthebackseatofthis stranger’s car and realize we’ve gottenoff-path.Ifthis guyis goingtotrytomake moneydrivingarounda Hitch,he’dbetter geta mapis all I gottasay
“Hey,sorrytobeabackseatdriver,butyou’regoingthewrongway.”WhenIleanforwardtotaphimonhisshoulder,he jumpsatthesametimeasoundemitsfromthepassengerseatthat’slowandrumblyandalotlikegrowling.
Glancingdown,IcryoutwhenIseearow ofteethbaredinmydirection TossingmyselfasfarbackasIcangowithout enteringthetrunk,Iclutchmybag.
“Whatisthat?Isitsupposedtobeinyourcar?”
“It’smydog,”heanswersflatly.“Andyes,Poshisallowedtobeinmy car.”
“Posh?”AnglingmyselfaroundsoI’mbehindthedog’sseat,Igetabetterviewofmyno-personalitydriver He’shuge,and now thatI’mpayingattention,helooksreallyfunnystuffedbehindthesteeringwheelofaFiat.Judgingfromhissize,Iguess he’seasilyoversixfeettall.Andhe’snothardonmyeyeseither,hisjawlinesoperfectthatcallingitchiseledfeelstrite.His side profile is a studyofsculpted masculinity, and I’mkinda drawnto the rugged vibe he’s gotgoingon There’s a hintof stubbleonhischinandcheeks,buthe’sfairlyclean-cut.
WhenIstartfeelingalittleweirdedoutbymyowncreepinessatstaringatthisguy,Iturnmyfocusbacktotheroadahead Notmuchfarther to go, Isee the streetsignfor Magnolia Lane. Flickingmyeyes backinhis direction, Iamnotseeingany movementthattellsmehe’sslowingdown.Honestly,Ihavenoclueifhe’sseenit,andatthespeedhe’sgoing,wewon’tmake theturn,notwithouttakingouttheflowershoponthecorner,andwecan’thavethat.
“Hey.”Pointingoverhisshoulder,Iindicateintheoppositedirection,thewayweneedtogo.“Thatway,dude.”
Aheavysighechoesfromthefrontofthecarandhehitsthebrakes.Fortheloveoftheheavensdoesheeverhitthebrakes. Asheslamshisfootonthebrakepedal,thewholemomentfeelslikeadramaticstageperformanceratherthanaroutinedriving maneuver The brakes squeal inprotest, the sound reminiscent of anexaggerated cartoonscreechas the vehicle jolts to an abrupthalt,asifithadjustrealizeditwasthepunchlinetoacomicaljoke.
Thetires,caughtoffguardbythesuddencommandtoceaseallmovement,letoutaseriesofcomicalchirps,asifprotesting theunexpectedinterruptionoftheirforwardmomentum.I’mprettysurewe’vecapturedtheattentionofanyoneonthesidewalk aswellasanyandalloftheretailshoppersinthearea
Thevelocityoftheturnpushesmeagainstthebackdoor,myfaceplantingonthewindow.Smooshedfortheworldtoseeas we drive through the small but fairly crowded shopping district. I’mstill peeling a nostril away fromthe glass when Mr. Johnson,whoownstheflowershop whichIjustsavedfromfull-ondamage,thankyouverymuch wavesmyway
Somewhereinthe distance,a phone is ringing.Itcouldbe mine,butIhave noidea where itis now.I’malsohopingthe driver’sdogisokayupthereandnotscrunchedintotheglovecompartmentnow “Areyoukiddingme?”Imanagewhenthecarfinallylurchestoastop.Thisguydoesn’tevenstopinfrontofthebookshop, either “Areyounewhere?Isaidninety-nineMagnoliaTreeLane”
Darkeyesmeetmineintherearviewmirror.Hecockshisheadtothesideandholdsmygazewithanintensitythatfillsmy gutwithaheatIcan’tdecipher.Isitgood?Isitbad?Idon’tknow.I’mjustthankfulI'malive…butIalsodon’twanttopullmy eyesawayfromhis
Whatiswrongwithme?
Myphonestartsringingagain Lookingaroundthebackseat,Ifindmybagwhereit’slandedonthefloorandpullittomy lap,diggingthroughit.
“Seriously.Youandyourlittledogshouldnotbeinchargeofchauffeuringpeoplearound.”Pointingoutthewindow,Itap myfingernailontheglass.Withanimosity?Ohyoubet.“Thisisseventy-nineMagnoliaTreeLane.”
“Well,atleastyou’reontherightstreet.”Hespeaks.Andasecondlater,healsoturns around,flingingonearmover the passengerseattoanglehimselfmyway “Youknow,ifIwassoinclined,I’dchargeyouextraforthistrip” “Extra?”
“Notonlydidyougetatourofthetown,butIthrewinalittleexcitement,too”Therearebrightgoldenfleckssparklingin thosebrowneyesofhis.IfIwasn’tsomad,I’dbemoreintoit,butnotnow.“Youseemalittlepent-up.”
“Excuseme,didyousaypent-up?”Huffing,Iputmyhandonthedoorhandleandtugonit,hopingforsomedramaticflair tomatchourentrance.Only,thedoordoesn’topen.Thinkingit’sstuck,Itryagain,onlytobemetwithlaughter. Asoftandmechanicalclinkresonatesinthecar.Thisguyandhisbigbrowneyesarestillstaringmedown. “Childlock,”hesayswithawink
I quirk my eyebrows. “I can see the review I’mgonna leave now. ‘One star for being a horrible driver and not very hospitable’”
Fromsomewhereinthefront,there’sanotherlowrumbleofagrowl. Rollingmyeyes,Iopenthecardoor.“It’stotallygoingtoaffectyourrating,youknow.”
Eversoslowly,hedragshiseyesawayfrommineandheshrugs “Ireallydon’tcare” “Youaresorude,”ImumbleasIclimbout,myphoneringingyetagain.ThistimeIpressittomyearwhileI’mslamming thecardoorshut “Hello?”
Spinningaround,I’msurprisedwhenIfindmybrother standinginfrontofme.Bewildered,Iholdupafinger for himto waitasDylan’svoicecomesacrosstheline
“Whereareyou?”sheinquires,hervoicefilledwithconcern.
“Well…”Isnort.“It’salongstory,butthatHitchyougotme?Thisguyisunbelievable.Ibarely…”
“Hitch guy?” Dylan interrupts me “That’s why I’mcalling Ronaldo has been waiting outside for you for the last five minutes.You’renotwiththerightperson,Riley!Whereareyou?Whoareyouwith?Ohmygosh,areyousafe?” I’mreallyconfused now, that’s what I am Like if I had a title, it would be the Queenof Confusion I’d skip Princess altogether.Fastlearner.
“Safe?Definesafe”
Movementcatches myeye andI’mhorrified,butalsokindofproud,as mybrother takes twogiantsteps over tothe car, reachingtowardthedriver’ssidedoor.Travismusthaveseentheinsanewaythismancamecareeningdownthelane,andnow myprotectivebigbrotherisgoingtokickhisbutt Therewasatimeinmylifewhenthismomentwouldhavebeenmortifying, buttodayisnotoneofthem.
Standingstill,withthephonepressedtomyear,IwaitforTravistoflingopenthedooranddragthisguyoutofthecarto yellathim.Askhimwhatonearthhethoughthewasdoingdrivinglikeamaniacwithhissisterinthecar.Butno.Hedefinitely doesn’tdothat.
Travisopensthedoor,andthenheshakestheguy’shand.
SHAKESTHEGUY’SHAND?
I’msureinsomeotherparalleluniversethiswouldbeahilariousmoment,butI’msorattledandpuzzledthatIcannotmake headsnortailsofwhat’shappening.Mybrotherandmymaniacdriverarelaughingtogether. “Riley,”Traviscallsout,beckoningmeover Trepidatiously,Itakeasteptowardthedeathmobile. “What?”Isnap “MeetJakeDecember,myclientandtheplayerfromtheRiverCityRenegadesIwastellingyouabout.”
Whenanagitated,pushy,attractivestrangerjumpsintothebackseatofyourcar,howdoyouthinkyouwouldhandleit?
Me,well,IfiguredIhadtwooptionsatthemoment: onewastoaskhertokindlyremoveherselffrommyvehicle before I called the cops But, I’ma bigguyand amknownfor takingcare of myself, so did I consider forcible removalonmyownterms?
Ofcourse,butonlyforamoment.That’sjustanaturalinstinct.Comeswithmydayjob.Playingicehockeyforateaminthe AmericanHockeyLeague,I’vehadtodealwithmyfairshareofplayersandfanswhogetalittlebitaggressive Guysusually eitherwanttogetaphotowithmeorfightme,neitherofwhichissomethingIenjoy,butI’lltakethephotooverafightanyday. Andthewomenhavepulledsomeamazingstuntstogetmyattention Themajorityofmyfemalefansarecool,butthere’sthe one percentthatsends me photos ofthemwearingmyjerseyand nothingelse. The lastone Igotwas a full-onphoto shoot someonehadgonetothetroubleofcoordinating,completewithpads,skates,andstick Sheputthepuckinbetweenherteeth anditwasweird.
But, when I realized this one was harmless and only focused on her phone, I made my choice and today, I chose adventure Themomentthoseaquamarineeyesslammedintomine,Ihadtoseewhereweweregoingandwhoshewas It’snot everydayafeisty,beautifulwomanlandsinthebackseatofmycarinanewtownandgivesmeorders.
Now,watchingherheadswivel backandforthfrommybestfriendandthenbacktome,I’mreallygladIgotaticketfor this ride.Betterthanarollercoasterpark.
“Jakewho?”sheasks,rockinghereyesmywayagainandtakingagood,longlookatme,dragginghereyesfrommyhead tomytoes.
Mybestfriendalsohappenstobemyagent.“December.”Isayitsharperthanintended,butthankfullyTravissnorts,turning tomeandmouthingtheword,“Sorry”
Butthisone,she’sdefiantandremindsmeofawetcat.
Sheputsahandonherhipandlookssquarelyatme “Isyourlastnamereallyamonthoutoftheyear?Andwhoareyou anywaytogoaroundpickingpeopleupandactinglikeyou’retheirdriver?” Meow.
Travis’seyesbouncebetweenmyselfandhissister,prettymuchlacedwithworry.Ihaveafeelingshemightbethewild cardinthefamily.
“Youknow,Iconsideredchargingyouoncewegottoyour destination,butthewildlookinyour eyesI’mgettingnow is paymentenough.”
“Children”Travisholdsahandupinbetweenus “Riley,JakeisstayinghereforaweekwhileInegotiateacontractfor him.He’sfoundhimselfwithsomeunexpecteddowntime,sohe’sgettingalittlerestandrelaxation.”
Thosesea-greeneyesflashmywayagainasshelocksmeintoagaze.I’msureshe’sstillabitperturbedabouttheearlier miscommunication,butthere’salittlesnapinsidemethattellsmenottopullaway It’slikeasnapofelectricity:playfuland newandreallyintriguing.Whenshedoesfinallypullhereyesfrommine,thatlittlesnapfadesawayandIremindmyselfthat thiswomanisn’tjustanybeautifulstrangertome
She’smyagent’ssister.Myagentwhoalsohappenstobemybestfriend.YouseewhereI’mheaded?
Yeah She’smybestfriend’ssister
Butsheissassy.Andcute.Butsoverysassy.
“So,JakeDecemberisrelaxinghere,huh?”shepurrs.
Iknewit MychestpuffsalittlewithprideasIholdmyshouldersup “Haveyouheardofme?”
Iwanttoshovethewordsbackintomymouthassoonastheyareout.Howcreepydidthatsound? Have you heard of me? Whatatool
“No,Ihaven’t.”Awickedgrinplaysonherlips.“Isitafakename?Andifso,whyDecember?”Shetiltsherheadtoone sideandnarrowshereyes,hertoneveeringmoretowardplayfulnessasshewhispers,“It’sbecauseyoulikeTaylorSwift,isn’t it?”
Relentless.IthinkI’mgoingtolikeSweetkissCreek.
“It’sDecemberbecausethat’smydad’sgivenname”Turningmyattentionbacktothecar,IleanintogetPoshoutofher spotinthepassenger’sseat.IfanyonehadtoldmebackinthedaythatmylongestrelationshipwouldbewithaFrenchbulldog, sixyears andcountingthankyouverymuch,Iwouldhave calledthema liar The onlyother relationshipI’ve hadfor a nice longstretchistheoneI’vehadforthelastfiveyears…withTravis.
CradlingPoshinmyarms,IturnaroundandfacetheRichardssiblings.There’salotofsimilaritybetweenthesetwo,butI thinkTravisisprobablytheniceroneinthefamily
RileypointstoPosh.“Doesshetravelwithyoueverywhereyougo?”
“IfIcantakeherwithme,she’scoming”
“Ihopeyoudon’tshoveherinacageandputherinthe…what’sitcalled?”Shewavesahandintheairasshetriestofind theword “Theluggagecompartmentwhenyoufly”
“Iwouldnevertreatherthatway,”Isay,cooingandscratchingPoshbehindtheears.“She’snotawomanI’deverwantto cage.”
DoIsaythatlastpartalittlepointedly,winkingatherasIdo?Ohyoubet
PlacingPoshdownonthesidewalk,Istandupandcrossmyarms.“Ialsodon’tthinkit’scalledaluggagecompartment.”
Sherollshereyes “Whatever Whyareyouheretochilloutattheveryendoftheseason,anyway,whenicehockeygames arestillbeingplayed?I’mnoexpert,butIfeellikethatdoesn’tbodewellforyou.”
“Okay, we’re done. Let’s not play twenty questions, please,” Travis, ever the voice of reason, says as he smacks his sister’sarm.“Whatiswrongwithyoutoday?”
Hereyesflicktomine,flashing.“Youmighthavethesamereactionifyouhadsomeonepretendtheywereyourdriver,then takeyouontheridefromhell”
“Wasitthatbad?”Thecornersofmylipsturnupinstinctivelywitheachdramaticwordcomingoutofhermouth.“Igotyou hereinonepiece”
Rileyhuffs,squaringhershoulderstolookatherbrotherbeforeincliningherheaddownthestreet.“Ineedtogettowork, ‘causeI’mreallylatenow,butyouknowwhereI’llbe.Sostopbywhenyoucan.”
Hereyesreturntomine,butshedragsthemacrosstowhereI’mstandingrealslow.Likereeeeeaaallllslllloooowwwww. OnlySouthernwomenwhoarewet-beemadcanmakesomuchnoisebycastingtheireyeslikethat,andman,she’sgood.
Shakingherhead,sheturnsaroundandwalksaway,wavingahandintheair
“Wow,”Imanage,turningtoTravis,who’sstandingbesidemelaughingwithhisarmsfoldedacrosshischest.“Yousaid shewasheadstrong,butisshealwaysthatmoody?”
“No,infact,I’malittlesurprised.Sheneveractslikethat.Dadalwayscallsherourrayofsunshine.I’mtheonewhoused tobeabitofanirritatingcrank.”
“Yeah,IguessI’veseenthatsideofyou”
“Mostlylately.”Heshoveshishandsinhispockets.“Andthanksforcomingheretotakeatime-out.Honestly,Ithinkit’s bestforyourreputationandforyourcareerthatyoujuststepbackandbreatheforaweek I’llgetyournewcontractnegotiated fortheRenegadesand…”
Myshouldersslumpandasighescapesmylips
Traviscockshisheadtotheside.“What?”
“It’svery…”
“Humbling?”heoffers
“Embarrassing,”Irespond.“Howmanypeoplegetletgoforfighting…inagamewherefightingisaprerequisite?”
“It’snotaboutthefight,it’saboutthewayitwentdownwiththeBlades”Hecrosseshisarms,sizingmeup “You’regoing tohavetomakegoodwithyouroldteammatesifIcanwranglethisplacementbacktotheRenegades,youknow.WhenIthink backtohowyouleftthem,thephrase‘outinablazeofglory’comestomind”
Ihangmyhead.“Yeah,I’vethoughtaboutthat.Andit’sabridgeI’mgoingtocrosswhenthetimecomes.”
“Theownerswantyouback,butthecoachisonthefence.”BeforeIcansayaword,Travisholdsahandintheairtostop me “I’mgoingtohaveitallfiguredoutsoon Allgoingwell,you’llbeplayinginthelastfewgamesoftheseason Withyour oldteam.”
I’mprettyluckytohavesomeonelikeTravisonmyside SomeoftheplayersI’vegottentoknowovertheyearshavehad agents and managers around themwho are only in it for the money and the little bit of fame they sometimes get for being associated withthe rightplayer who is onthe rise. ButTravis genuinelycares aboutall ofhis clients. Iknow he keeps his rostersmallonpurposesohecankeepthingsonamoreintimatelevelwithhispeople,ashesays.
Forinstance,howmanyagentswouldhavetakenmeoutofthecityandawayfromtheAHLfarmteamthathadjustfiredme
(thanks,JerseyCityBlades),andinsistedIcometohishometowntorest meaningtohideandlickmywounds.
“You’rethebest,Travis,thankyou.”
“Let’sjustmakesuretokeepyourheadinthegamewhileyou’rehere”Hewhipsouthisphoneandpullsupsomenotes he’s made, handingthe device to me. “There’s a new winter sports arena that’s about five miles outside of town, and I’ve spokenwiththemaboutyou”
“Cool,man.”Iscrollthroughhisnotes,clickingonthewebsiteattached.“WillIbeabletopracticethere?”
“Well, when you’re not pretending to be a Hitch driver, yes” He laughs, then nods to a coffee shop as his stomach grumbles.“Beforewecheckyouintothebed-and-breakfast,let’shopinhereandgrababite,cool?”
Iglancedownatwheremygirlissittingonthesidewalkbesideus.“IsPoshallowed?”
“There’sapatio,”Travissays,crackingupashepointstoit “Yougrabatable,andI’llgetussomething”
AsItakeaseatontheoutdoorpatioofthecafe,rightintheheartoftown,I’mimmediatelystruckbythelivelyenergythat surroundsme Positionedalongthebusymainstreet,thelittlehavenoffersafront-rowviewofthedailyhustleandbustle
ThepatioitselfexudesSoutherncharmwithitscozysetup;wrought-irontablesandchairs,paintedincheerfulhues,invite patrons to relaxand soakinthe ambiance Cushions adorned withfloral patterns provide a comfortable place to rest, while woodenbarrelsrepurposedintotablesaddarustictouchtothescene.Overhead,stringlightscrisscross,theirbulbscatching thesunlightandshimmeringastheyswayinthebreeze.
Despite the constant flow of people passingbyonthe sidewalk, the patio feels like a tranquil oasis Potted plants and bloomingflowers line the edges, offeringa splashofgreeneryand a sense ofpeace amidstthe urbanchaos. It’s a welcome respitefromthenoiseandcommotionofthestreet
WaitingforTravistoreturn,Iscantheothertables.Therearesomefolkssittingnearby,eyeingme.Myeyesmeetthedude sittingthere,andhegives meacurtnodofthehead,mouthingtheword,“Respect.”Weird,yes,butagain,I’musedtoit.At leasthedoesn’tfallinthecategoryofwantingtofightme.NotthatIcanevenunderstandwhyanyonewouldwanttofightme, butIguesstheyseeabigguywhoplayshockeyandtheythinkit’scoolormaybetheyhavesomethingtoprove.
Andfighting Notthatit’ssomethingIwanttodo,butIuseitfortheice Butit’salsothereasonI’minthepredicamentI’m innow…becausewhatstartedontheice,gottakenofftheice.Andthensome.
Sittingandlookingaroundthequaintscene,mythoughtswanderbacktothatspitfireofasister Riley Thelookonherface whensherealizedIwasTravis’sclientandnotthepersonwhowassupposedtopickherup.Thatverylookisgoingtokeep thismanveryhappyforalongtime.
“Here.”Travisslidesacupofsomethinghotinfrontofmealongwithacroissant,settlingintothechair acrossthetable withthesameorder.HepointstoPosh,wholookslifelessatmyfeet.“Issheokay?”
“Ohyeah,she’snotdead Justdramatic”
Travissitsbackandlaughs.“I’msorry,butit’sjustfunnytoseeyoudotingoversuchasmalldog.”
“She’stheonlywomaninmylifeforareason”Andaverygoodoneatthat “Yeah.” Travis nods his head inunderstanding. We’ve knowneachother for a few years now. He was one ofmyinner circle who satbyand witnessed Hurricane Greta and her destruction, or rather her attemptatit. “Thatwomancame inas a hurricanebutwasdowngradedtowhat,atropicalstorm,fairlyquickly”
“Shedidherdamage.”Asshestilldoes.Lessonstoallofyoubuddingathletesoutthere:ifyoudateasportsreporter,think abouttheconsequences “Andaccordingtothestoryinthepaperthismorning,she’sstilltryingtotakeherdigs”
“Isaw thatone.‘December firedfromtheBladesbeforeMay.’”Traviswinks.“Terribleattemptonher partataplayon words Don’tlethergettoyou”
“Easytosaywhenit’snotyourreputationthat’sgettingattacked.”
“Again,that’swhywe’rehere.”Travispopsthelastbiteofhiscroissantinhismouthbeforetossinghiscoffeeback.He smackshishandstogether,remnantsoftheflakiestcroissantI’veseenanywhereflyingintheair Webothwatchinslowmotion asarogueflakemanagesitswayacrossthetable,floatingthroughtheairandlandingonmylowerlip.
“Seriously,”Isay,pointingtotheflake
Travis laughs. “Sorry. But they’re good and it was chocolate cinnamon. Holy smokes, the perfect blend of sugar and pastrytostarttheday”
IgrabmycoffeeandtakeasipasTravis’sphonebeeps.Hestaresatthescreenwithalookofdissatisfactionthatmakesmy toesactuallycurl.
“Well”Hesighsheavily “Ourfavoritereporterhasnowtakenherfighttosocialmedia” Heturnsthephonearoundtoshowme.“Idon’tgetit.It’sonlysocialmedia.” Travisshakeshishead “No,myfriend,she’ssharingherstoryaboutyouonsocialmedianow She’sbeengiventhepower tobeonappslikeTikTokandInstagram,soshe’llreachawholenewaudience.” I’mcluelesswhenitcomestothisstuff.“Shehasapaper.That’senoughaudience,isn’tit?”
“Demographics,myfriend.Newspapersarelosingtheirbase,sotheybranchouttootherchannelstogettheirstoriesout andtostayrelevant.”Heshrugs.“Itmakessense,itjustsucksthatshe’stheonewho’sinchargeofrunningthesportssocials
forthe Athletic Edge. ”
I’mstartingtogetit.“So,shecanputmorethingsupaboutmethatarenegativeifshewantsto?”
“If bythings youmeancontent, thenyes Anyone else I wouldn’t questionthis, but her actions haven’t beenlikened to journalisticintegrity,atleastnotlately.She’slovingthefactyougotintoafightwithateammate.”Heslideshisphonebackin hispocket “Andabelovedplayeratthat”
“Beloved.”Itrynottochokeonmycroissant.“Smokeandmirrors,thatguy.”
“Onethingatatime Let’sgetyousettledinandstartclearingyourhead,thengetyououttotherinksoyoucandowhatyou dobest.”
Pushingourchairsbackfromthetable,Istandup,awarethatafewmoreheadsarenowturningourway.ButI’mnotgoing toevenlookback;Ineedtolookforwardfromthismomenton YougetonechanceatacareerlikeIwant,andIcan’tmessup again.
FollowingTravisdownthestreet,IknowIneedtokeepmyeyesontheprize:whileI’mhere,Iwillstayfocusedandkeep mycareersteady.There’salotridingonthisforme.
“So,letme make sure I’ve gotthe details straight.Yougotina car witha stranger,orderedhimaround,and,surprise,it turns outhe’s one ofyour brother’s sports clients, and his bestfriend?” Georgie throws her headofthick,full,honeyblond hair backand laughs. She’s notonlyone ofmyabsolute bestfriends, butshe’s also the owner ofthe Pages and ProseBookshop,whereIworkrightnowinSweetkissCreek.“I’mgoneforoneday,andImissallthefun.Also,isn’tthathow horrormoviesstart?Shegetsintoacarwithastranger ”
“Maybenexttimeyou’llthinktwicebeforetakingadayoff,”Imanagetogrunt.Shecanteasemeallshewants;it’snotlike Ididn’tchastisemyselfplentylastnightwhenIthoughtaboutthefactthatthewholepartwhereIgotintoacarwithastranger couldhavegoneverywrong.
“Hey,look,”Isay,all nonchalantandstuffbecauseit’stimetochangethetopicofconversation “Theycaughttheperson who’sbeenstealingunderwearoffofpeople’sclotheslines.”
Georgiegasps,quitedramaticallyasabestfriendshouldwhenyourevealatidbitlikethat,andcomestostandbesideme. “No!Whowasit?”
“MissPippy.”Pointingtoaphotoonmyphone,Igiggle.“It’sacat.Seemsshe’sbeenstealingthemanddraggingthemtoa hidingspotinherowner’sgarage Saysherethatherownerwaslookingforsomeoldpaintandfoundapileofpanties”
“Canyouimaginegoingintoyourgarageandfindingsomeweirdcollectionofrandomunderwear?”Shegiggles,headingto thestoreroombehindthecounterandappearingamomentlaterwithanunopenedboxinherhand.“IwoulddieifIwasoneof thewomenwhohadtheirundiesstolen.”
“Notjustwomen,thiscathadnoboundaries.Shetookalltheundies.Atleastthekidswillprobablygettheirsback.” “Whydoyousaythat?”
“Idon’tknow aboutyou,butwhenIwas little,mymother insistedonwritingmyname inmyunderwear.” Lookingup,I findGeorgiestaringatmewithastrangeexpression “What?Didn’tyourmomwriteyournameinyours?”
“Imean,ifweweregoingtocamporsomething,butnotjusttowriteournameinthem,”shesays,slicingopentheboxand pullingbackitsflaps,revealingalloftheprettynewbooksthathadbeendelivered.
“But,now,you’vegotbiggerpantiestofill.”Sheshovestheboxmyway.“Allyourstogetontotheshelves.”
Rollingmyeyes,Istartpullingoutdifferenttitles,liningthemupinorderofgenreonthecountersoIcanbealittlemore cohesive inmymovements WhenIstarted here parttime a few months ago, the firstthingIdid was to organize Georgie’s shelvessotheywerealittlemorestrategic.Notthatshedidn’thaveagoodsystem,butthingscanalwaysbeimproved.Ibroke downhershelfgroupingsbygenrefirst Then,whilealphabeticalisthewaymostfolksstockbooks,Ichangedthetopshelves sotheycontainstaffandbookclubpicks,thenbestsellers inthatgenre onthe nextshelfdown.The shelves below those are stockedalphabetically.Makesitmorefunforusbecausewegettotalkaboutourfavoritereadsandthelocal bookclubsget involved,too
WhenIbringthelastbookout,Itosstheboxbehindthecountertobreakdownlater,butasmallpackagefliesoutandlands ontheflooratGeorgie’sfeet
“Looks like youmissed this,” Georgie says, bendingover to inspectthe tinyparcel. She rips openthe paper. “IforgotI orderedthese!”
She scatters the brightly colored contents across the counter. The small pile of thread brightens the mood, both of us grinningasawaveofnostalgiahits.Friendshipbracelets.
“Thesearesocute!”Swipingone,Iholditintheair,admiringit “IremembermakingthesewhenIwaslittle Rightaround thesametimemymomwasscribblingmynameinmyunderwear.”
Shelaughs “Igotthemonpurpose” “Youdid?”
She hands me an orange one “This is for you I picked orange because it means confidence, courage, and creativity” Georgiesmiles,herlight-browneyesdancing.“Ifigurewitheverythingyou’vegotonthehorizon,itwasprettyfitting.” “It’s perfect, thank you.” Slipping it on my wrist, I feel a buzz. Must be how Wonder Woman feels when she puts her
braceletson.
“MaybeyoucanshowthemtoJakethenexttimeyouseehim.”Shelaughs.“Afteryouapologizeforbeingsobossy.”
“Iamperfectbeingbossy,thankyouverymuch”Idon’tmentionthepartwhereIhaven’tstoppedthinkingaboutJakesince yesterday.Infact,I’veworkedveryhardtopushhis six-foot-whatever hotness outofmymindfor now.I’vebeendownthat road,andit’sano-go Notnow “Anyway,fromwhatTravismentioned,thisguyneedsabreak he’sgotenoughproblems He was suspendedfromplaybutthenwas letgofromhis team.Iremember Travis talkingabouthimwhenhesignedhimafew yearsago he’sgotatemper,oratleasthasbeenknowntobelikeaclosedbook Verystand-offish,whichIcanattesttonow He’sherewhileTravisworksonanewcontractforhim.”
“This suspensionthingsounds familiar.” Georgie alreadyhas her iPad outand is startingto playdetective. “What’s his name?”
“JakeDecember.”Pointingtothedeviceclutchedinhergrasp,Ishakemyhead.“But,don’tdothat.” “Why?”
“I’drathernotknow awholelotabouthim,atleastnotlikethat.He’smybrother’sfriend,andifIdogettoknow him,I wanttogettoknowhimonmyownterms Notgooffwhatthepressorsomegossipblogssay”
“Uh-huh.”Clearlynotlisteningtome,Georgieletsher fingersdothescrolling.She’safanoficehockeyandhasbeena plus-one whenever Travis has invited me to games over the pastyear. SeeingGeorgie, this tinylittle waifwho looks like a bohemiangoddess,you’dneverthinkofherholdingabeerthat’ssloshingallovertheplacewhileshescreamsatgrownmen fightingontheice.It’sprettyhilariousactually.
Sheemitsalowwhistle,alertingmethatshe’sfoundsomethinginteresting “Oh,wow Iknewhisnamesoundedfamiliar He’sasuperstarwhoisexpectedtogoontonationalteamssoon…ifhecangethisangerincheck.”
Get his anger in check and that’s why I didn’t want to know, ‘cause he’s still known as the angry guy. But now I’m curious.
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Onestorytalksabouthowanincidenthappenedinagamerecentlywhereheandhisteammategotintoafight,leadingto histen-daysuspension.Theotherguywasalsosuspended,butJakewasletgofromtheteampermanentlybecausetheargument apparentlyspilledofftheiceandintothelockerroom”Shewincesasshecloseshereyes “Looksliketheowneroftheteam wasinthelockerroomatthetimeandheendedupgettingknockeddownbyJake.That’sprobablywhyhewasfired.”
Georgiekeepsreadingwhilemythoughtsswirl.Thesameguywhohadhislittledogwithhiminhistinycaryesterdaytook outateammateandtheowner?I’mstillunpackingwhenGeorgiedoesanotherdramaticgasp,butthisoneisn’tforshow. “You’re goingto want to see this,” she mumbles, flickingher eyes to mine. She taps onthe screen. “He played for the Blades”
Iwince.Iknowthatteam,onlyabittoowell.“And?”
“Theguyhegotintoafightwith It’sTodd” “Todd.”Ichokeonthenameasmyjawgoesslack.“AsintheToddwhoIdated…thatTodd?”
Ipeekoverhershoulder,andsureenough,there’sthestorywithTodd’sfacefrontandcenternexttoaphotoofJake.My skinactuallycrawlswhenIseehim Trustme,there’snolovelostthere,atleastnotforme.
Shuddering,Itaponthescreenandscrolldownthepage,lookingforsomething “Whatareyoudoing?”Georgieasks.
“Lookingforanotherstory Anything,justnotthat Idon’twanttoseethat” “Well,it’llgiveyoutwosomethingtotalkabout,”shejokes,butI’mnotlaughing.
Todd is the kind of guy who swoops in and makes you feel really special. Does all the right things: invites you to Thanksgivingwithhimandhisfamily,fliesyoutoagameortwo,sendsyouflowersandmakessurethatthevaseisnotonly stuffedwithallofyourfavoriteblooms,butthatthecardisalsoonpoint.Theyalwayssaidthemostperfectthings. Inhindsight,Ishouldhaveknownhispersonalassistantwastheonewritingthosecards GeorgieputsanarmaroundmeandputsdowntheiPad.“Sorry.Iknowhehurtyou.Hewasaterribleboyfriend.” “Thatwordrightthere ‘Boyfriend’ It’snotatermI’dusetodescribewhatToddwastome” Georgienarrowshereyesasshewatchesme.“Why’sthat?”
“Weneverreallylabeledwhatwewere,nordidwecall ourselvesboyfriendandgirlfriend.It’snotlikeIcansaymyex wasajerk He’ssomeoneIdatedwholeftoutthepartthathewasalsodatingafewotherpeopleatthesametime”Shrugging, Itrytocasuallybrushitoff.Butman,itstillstings.“So,Ican’treallycallhimaboyfriend.Ithinkit’sfairtosayI’veneverhad one,Georgie”
“Hadonewhat?”sheasks,ponderingmywordsforamomentbeforehereyeswiden.“Aboyfriend?”
I nod, feeling a warm flush spring to my cheeks along with a twist of discomfort, a tinge of anxiety, and a hint of anticipationall mixed together, creatinga sensationthat’s hard to ignore. It's as if myinsides are momentarilyout of sync, remindingmeofthevulnerabilityanduncertaintythatcomeswiththinkingaboutthis.
“There’sneverbeensomeoneI’vebroughthometomyfamilyandintroducedasmyman,”Isay,pushingpastthefactIfeel completelyexposedandvulnerablerightnow.Butit’sGeorgie,soIknowI’msafehere.“I’vedatedsomeguysandToddwas theclosestIhadgotten,notthathe’sawinner Westartedoutandwerecasualbutthenhetrickedmewhenheaskedmetogoto Thanksgivingwithhim,whichgavemeafeelingofinclusion.Sincerity,youknow?”
“I’mstill digestingthe factthatyou’re,what,twenty-eightyears oldandyou’ve never hada real boyfriend?” She stands back,lookingatmewithadmirationdancinginhereyes.“You’reahottie howhaveyoustayedoffthemarket?”
“Thanks, but I just never tried, I guess I was busy in high school working for my family and, honestly, I couldn’t be bothered.Iwashangingoutinthekitchenwatchingmydadcook.”
Rightthen,analarmgoesoffonmyphone.Glancingatthescreen,it’smycalendarremindingmethatmydad’sprobably outsidewaitingtopickmeupsincemycar’snotbackfromtheshopyet
“We’ll have to table this rivetingconversationfor another day,” Isayquickly, leaningover the counter and grabbingmy pursefromwhereitsitsonashelfunderneath “MyshiftisdoneandDadispickingmeup Ineedtogooverthedinnermenu withhimforthatprivatemealI’mdoing.”
“Fine”Georgiecutshereyesmyway,waggingafinger “Thistopicisnotoffthetable Yet OperationBoyfriendneedsa planningsession.”
“No,itreallydoesn’t,”Isaywithalaugh,swingingopenthefrontdoorandturningaroundasIhitthestreettolookather onelasttime “Atleastnothere Imean,wheredoyoufindaguyinasmalltownlikeSweetkissCreek?”
Georgiestickshertongueoutatme,butasecondlater,hereyeslightup.
“Well,onejustdroverightintoyourpath ”
Istopthedoorasit’sabouttoslamclosedwithmyfoot.Kickingitbackopen,Inarrowmyeyesandpointafingerherway. “No.Nomorehockeyplayers.”
“Whynot?”Sheisapetulantchild.“Youcan’tsayyou’rescaredofcommitment.Youhaveaturtle.”
“Ihaveaturtlebecauseit’slowcommitment.”AndBradPittisverycool.
“Doyouknowhowlongturtleslivefor?”Shethrowsherhandsintheair “Theyarethedefinitionofcommitment” Hearingthewordsendsachillacrossmyflesh.Ifake-gagandrollmyeyes.“No.Nocommitmentandnodating.” GeorgieopenshermouthandIholdupahandtostopher “Andno Notevenonecoffeetogetmyfeetwet I’vehadmyfeet wetandwashitbyatsunami.Nothankyou.”
“Idon’tgetit,”Georgiesayswithasigh,tossingapaperbagatmyhead.“You’rewastingyourbestyearsonaturtle.”
“I’monhiatusbecauseofTodd.AndnomorehockeyplayersbecauseI,likeyou,enjoythegameandIdon’tneeditruined formeagain.”Shakingmyhead,Istareather.“Leaveitalone,okay?Iappreciatethesentiment,butmytimewillcomewhen it’ssupposedto”
Disappointmentwashesoverherfeatures,butIstaystrong.Thisismylovelifewe’retalkingabout.Orlackofone. “Fine But–”
“Nobuts.”WavingahandintheairIspinaroundandgo.“Bye.”
Scanningthestreet,Ifindmydad’scarprettyeasily.He’sdrivenhisbaby,a‘66FordMustangconvertible.AsImakemy waytowardit,IsayasilentprayerthatGeorgiewillforgetaboutourconversationfornowandjustletmebe
IneverevenreallybrokeupwithTodd;that’showseriousitendedupbeingintheend,oratleastforhim.Ifoundouthe wasdatingsomeoneelsewhenitshoweduponagossipwebsite Itwasagorgeousphototakenofhimonenightwhenhewas outwith,accordingtothecaption,hisgirlfriend.Iknowthatthepresswillgetaphotoofacelebrityandthentrytomakemore ofitthanwhatitseems,butthistimewasdifferent
Different because he’d told me he was home sick. Different because he’d sworn to me there wasn’t anyone else even thoughtherewererumors.DifferentbecauseI’demotionallyletmyheartgetattachedtohim.Ibelievedhim.Trustedhim.And helied
Sighing,Iholdmyshouldersupandsquarethemoff.Ipromisedmyselfafterthatphotoandthesubsequentcuttinghimout ofmylifethatIwasn’tgoingtogetsuckedinlikethatagain
So,sorry,JakeDecember.ThatiswhyIwon’tdateicehockeyplayers.ThankyouforcomingtomyTEDTalk.
“Andthat’sthemenu?”
Anglingmyselfinthepassenger seattofacemydad,Ifighttonotscrew upmyface “That’s all youcansay?I’m startingwithawildmushroomsalad,foragedfromlocalsources,andapotatoflandrizzledwithtrufflecream.I’lldoa scoopofsherbettocleansethepalette,beforethemaincoursetrufflemadness,withasprinklingofchicken,begins.”
“Sprinklingofchicken Isthatathingnow?”Hewinksatme,leaningovertosqueezemyarmasheturnsdownthefamiliar streettoourhouse.“Justkidding,sweetie.Itsoundsperfect.IthinkworkingwiththePorterfamilyandusingtheirtrufflesand mushrooms is a great way to collaborate with local businesses, too Are all of the ingredients you’re using coming from producersinthearea?”
“Theysureare”Ismile,knowingheapproves Iwantmymomtolikeit,too,butDad’stheoneIlearnedfromgrowingup Iusedtolovehangingwithhiminthekitchenandhelpinghimcook.
Mydadhasalwaysbeenthekindofdadthatotherfriendsofourswerejealousabout.Don’tgetmewrong,mymomwas prettywell-liked,too,butDadalwaysmadelifefun Andnotjust“Let’sgogeticecream”kindoffun,butfunlike“Youkids wantaslipslide?Givemetenminutes.”And,sureenough,tenminuteslater,he’dtakeustothebackyardwherehewouldhave setupalineoftorn-uptrashbagswithourwaterhosesprayingacrossit,laughing Itwasn’tawaterpark,butitwasprettygenius.
“So,”hesays,pullingintothedrivewayofour house our familyhouse,notmyhouseanymoresinceImovedoutafew weeksagoandgotmyownplace.However,tobefair,I’llprobablycomebackandstealsomegroceriessometimesbecauseI likekeepingmymomonher toes.“Doyouhaveanyideawhenyour car isgoingtobefixed,or doIneedtobeontaxi duty tomorrow,too?”
“Dubstextedmeandsaidthattheradiatorwasleaking.Luckily,itdidn’tdamageanyhosessoit’saneasyfix.It’llbeready bytomorrow”Turningintoourdriveway,heslowsthecartoahaltandIseemybrother’scarinthedriveway “IsTravishere fordinnertonight?”
“Hegetsbackontheroadsoon,”Dadsays,openinghisdoorandhoppingout.“Raceyainside?”
Laughing,Itrailbehindhim.Theoldguyisalwaystryingtostayactive;Ijustprayhedoesn’ttriprunningupthesteps. Followinghimintheopenfrontdoor,afeelingoflovehitsmyheartandasenseofcomfortwashesoverme.Thefamiliar scent ofhome a blend offreshlybaked cookies, hints ofvanilla, and the earthyaroma ofmymother’s favorite candles greetsmewarmly,wrappingmeinacocoonofloveandfamiliarity.
Steppinginside,I’mgreetedbythesoftglow ofwarmlightingandthegentlehumoffamilyactivity Thelivingroomisa sanctuary of coziness, with plush sofas adorned with colorful throw pillows, inviting me to sink into their embrace. Photographsofcherishedmemorieslinethewalls,eachoneatestamenttothebondsharedbythosewhoinhabitthisspace.
As I navigate mywaythroughthe livingroom, I canhear Travis’s voice It sounds like he’s outside, so I peekout the windowtoourbackdeck.Sureenough,he’sthereleaningagainsttheporchrailyammeringawayonhisphone.
Islide the patio door openand step onto the deck, wavingto himas Ido His face is super serious his “I’mworking face” soIknow toleavehimalone.Myhandfliestomyforehead,strokingthespotwhereI’vebeenknowntowrinklemy nosewhenI’minseriousmode MomlikestoremindmeifIdoittoomuch,I’llendupneedingBotox
ThedoortothehouseopensbehindmeandDadstepsoutsidejustasTravishangsuphiscall.Hewaveshisphoneinthe air.
“ThatwasthetoughestcallI’vehadtoday”Herollshiseyes,andDadclickshistongueontheroofofhismouth “Aclient?”Dadasksknowingly.
“ItwasMom,”Travissayswithashudder,makinguslaugh “Whatdoesshewant?”
“Volunteers,”DadsaysasheputsabeerinTravis’shandandcracksoneopenforhimself “Yourmotheristryingtohelp getacharityeventorganizedforthelocalbrothersandsistersgroup.”
“LikeBigBrothersBigSisters?”Laughing,Isitbackandsizemybrotherup.“Ifheneedsreferences,IfeellikeI’llneedto
stepinandletpeopleknowasmybigbrother,heusedtothreatentositonmyheadandfart.”
“Har,har.”Travissnorts,throwingapillowatmyhead.“I’llhaveyouknow,I’dbeagreatBigBrother.”
“Again,asyourlittlesister,letmebethejudgeofthis”MyturntosnortasIplopdownononeoftheAdirondackchairs besidemydad.BestviewoftheactualSweetkissCreekisrighthere,fromourbackyard.
Sweetkiss Creekglistens under the soft hues ofthe settingsun, its waters flowinggentlylike liquid gold, reflectingthe colors ofthe skyabove. It’s a beautiful springevening, and the air is filled withthe sweetscentofblossomingflowers and freshlycutgrass
Itake inthe breathtakingview witha sense ofawe and gratitude. The creekmeanders lazilythroughthe lushlandscape, flankedbytoweringtreesadornedwithvibrantgreenleavesthatswaygentlyintheeveningbreeze.Theirbranchesreachout likewelcomingarms,castingdappledshadowsonthewaterbelow
Birdsongfillstheair,asymphonyofchirpsandtrillsthatseemstoharmonizewiththegentlebabblingofthecreek.Iclose myeyesforamoment,allowingthesoothingsoundstowashoverme,groundingmeinthepresentmoment
Inthedistance,isthesilhouetteoftheoldcoveredbridge,itsweatheredwoodenplanksatimelesssymbol ofourtown’s richhistory Itstandsasasilentsentinel,watchingoverSweetkissCreekwithquietreverence Iloveithere.
“I’ll have you know that in high school,” Travis interjects, interrupting my solitude, “I was known as the most giving studentwhenIgraduated”
“Idon’tthinkthatwasanawardtheyhandedout.”Snappingmyfingers,Isitupalittletaller.“ConsideringthefactIstill havethatyearbook,Icanseeifthatisfactuallycorrect”
Travisnarrowshiseyes.“Youwouldn'tdare.”
Shrugging,Ihopupandheadinside.“Oh,yesIwould.”
I’venosoonerclosedtheglassdoorbehindmewhenIhearTraviscallmynameagain.Surehe’sgoingtotellmenottoget theyearbook,Iwaveahandovermyshoulderandignorehim.Iwalkovertothebookshelfinthelivingroom,thelastplaceI rememberitbeing
Scanningtheshelves,Iseealotofothermemoriesintheformofphotosandtrinkets:thetinyBigBenandphotosofusasa familyunitinfrontofthepalacefromour familytriptoLondon,abookonseaturtlesfromour adventuresintheCaribbean, some photos fromthe Christmas we spent inFlorida. That was the trip we agreed we’d never not be home for Christmas again…notthatwedidn’tlikeFlorida,butwelikeasnowy,coldChristmas,otherwise,itjustdoesn’tfeelright.
Scratchingmyhead,literally,Irealizethattheyearbookisprobablyinmyoldbedroom.I’donlyvacateditafewmonths ago,butIknewMomhadsomebigplansforitonceIwasout.Ihitthestairsandtakethemtwoatatimetothesecondfloor, unsureofwhatstatemyroomwillbeinonceIgetthere
Ithrowthedooropenandimmediatelyjumpback.There,onmyoldbedglaringatmeisasmallfamiliardog,eyeslaced withjudgment AsIopenthedoorwider,itgrowls
“Okay…”Lookingaround,Irealizemyroomfeelsweird,thenIseethepileofclothesinthecorner.Lookingbackatthe dog,Iknowwe’vemetalreadyinacertainroguerideItookpartinjustadayago.
Whenmyeyeslandonasuitcaseinthecornerthat’sflippedwideopen,alittlerushofheatfloodsmysystem
Takingastepbackward,Ikeepmyeyesonthesmallbeastcheckingmeoutandstarttoturnaround.OnlywhenIdo,Iwalk face-firstandslamchest-to-chestintoagiantwall AwallthatlooksverysimilartoJakeDecember
Caughtoffguard,Istarttotumbleback,fallingintotheroom.Myhandflailsintheair,grabbingatanythingtosteadyme, graspingontoJake’sarmsandwrappingmyhandstightlyaroundhisbicepshopinghecanbreakmyfall
Luckyforme,thismanislikeasuperheroandactsinaflash.Hisotherarmcomesaroundtoscoopmefrombehindashe plantshisstancefirmlyandcatchesmeinhisarms.I’mprettysuretothenormalpasserbyitwouldlooklikeacoupletryingto dance,heattemptingtodipmeandlookinggracefulintheprocess,butI’mforsurethisloosepieceofspaghettidanglingfrom hishands.
Takinga giantbreath, Itryto hide myembarrassment and notmake eye contact, onlyto realize that the man’s arms are coveredintattoos.Like,notthekindthataretoomuch,butafew tattoos hereandthereplacedinthebestplaces.Skimming them,Iwanttoreachoutandtouchone,stoppingjustshortofdoingsoasseveralthoughtsmaketheirwaythroughmymindat onetime.
Onebeingthathe’sjustcaughtmeandIshouldreallystandup.Theother,thatifIcanseehistattoos,thenthatmeanshe isn’t wearinga shirt The smoothness ofhis skinfeels nice under the palmofmyhand, his muscles firm, and Irealize I’m subconsciouslystrokinghisbicep.
“Whatthe ,”ImanagetoblurtasItrytostandup
“Here.”Jakesteadiesmeandtakesastepback,asmiledrapedacrossthosebeautifullipsofhis.Iwanttosmackmyself. I’vemanagedtocheckouthislipsandfindthembeautiful.Andfeeluphisarmsallinoneminute.
ThenIletmyeyes do the walking. The manis standinginfrontofme inall ofhis glorywithone ofmyparents’towels drapedlooselyaroundhiships.
He’swearingonlyatowel. ONLYATOWEL.
“Youokay?”Hiseyesarefullofconcern,hisvoicehusky Isuddenlylikehusky Alot “Ah,yes.”Ismoothdownmyhairandstraightenmyshirt,myeyesdartingaroundmyoldbedroomandthentohimagain. “Sorry Ihadnoideayouwereevenhere,muchlessinmyoldroom”
Heliftsashoulderandletsitdrop.“Pipeburstatthebed-and-breakfastsotheyhadtocancelalloftheirreservations.Your parentsoffered”Hiseyesscanmyroom,andIthinkthere’sactualdelightreflectedbackatme “HowcouldIsayno?” Iturnandtakeinmyoldspace.Thewallsarepaintedinsoft,earthytones,creatingawarmandinvitingbackdropforthe room’sdecor.Tapestriesadornedwithintricatepatternshangfromtheceiling,addingatouchofbohemianflairandservingas focalpointsforthespace Dreamcatchersswaygentlyinthebreeze,theirdelicatefeathersandbeadscastingplayfulshadows onthewalls.
Alarge,cozybedtakescenterstage,drapedinlayersofcolorfulquiltsandthrows,butallforsurevibingonthecolorpink Pillowsofvariousshapesandsizesarescatteredacrossthebed,includingsomeofmyoldstuffedanimalsfromwhenIwas little Acanopyofsheerfabrichangsabove,addingatouchofromancetothespace
Chewingonagrin,IlookbackatJakeandpursemylips.“Hopeyoulikepink.”
“It’s never done anythingto me.” Asmile dangles onthose lips like a pair ofstrappyheels. And whyitmakes myheart skip,Iwillneverknow
PointingtoastuffedWinniethePooh,Igivehimmymostseriousexpression.“He’dbetternotgettornapartbyyourbeast, capiche?”
“Isitweird?”heasks,grinning.“Areyoualittlefreakedoutthatsomeonewhoisn’tyouisinyourspace?”
“Myoldspace,”Isay,correctinghim.“Soessentially,you’redealingwithmyleftovers.Andit’sonlygoingtobeweirdif youhappentoknowwheremyhighschoolyearbookis.”
Heshakeshishead.“Can’thelpyouthere.”
Glancingathim,Iseeasmallbeadofwaterbeginajourneydownthesideofhisface,tohisneckwhereitjumpsshipand headsdownthedipsandcurvesofhismuscularframetopartsunknown.Shakingmyhead,Igivemyselfaninternalslapacross theface
“So,you’reinSweetkissCreek,”Imanaged,pushingaheadandtryingnottolookathisabsolutelyamazing,hunky,bulky manchestandtheaccompanyingmuscleparts.“Isitabreakforyouorpunishment?”
“Icanletyouknowaftermystay,butyourparentshavebeenreallygoodtomesofar.”Henodstohisdog.“Posh,too.” IstealaglanceatPoshwhosits,eyesarelockedonherman.She’slookingquiteadorablewhenshesuddenlyrollsover ontohersideandcloseshereyes Shesticksherfeetoutstraightasaboardandappearstostopbreathing
Leapingforward,Ihitthebedtopickherup.Iloveanimals,andevenifthisonehasn’tdecidedifshelikesmeornotyet,I can’tstandbywhileshehasaseizureoraheartattack
“Issheokay?”Iask,scoopingherintomyarmsandturningaroundtofaceJake,whoisunfazedbythewholething.
“She’sdramatic.”Herollshiseyes.“Shedoesthatwhenshewantsattention.Shelikesplayingdead.”
Ilookdownatthecunningcreatureinmyarmswhois,mostcertainly,stillbreathing,andIswearIthinkislaughingatme I canfeelherlittlebodyloosenupassherelaxesintomyarms.Hereyesopenandshebeginstoslowlylickthebackofmyhand, hereyesmovingbetweenustwohumansintheroomwithher
“Wow,that’sAcademyAwardstuffrightthere.”Bendingover,Iputherbackonthebedwhereshetakesupherthroneof judgmentoncemore
“She’sabitmuch,butIwouldn’ttradeherforanotherdog.Ever.”
“Howareyousureshefeelsthesameway?”
“Becauseshetellsme” “Funny.”
“No,shedoes”Clutchinghistowelsecurelyaroundhiswaist,JakewalksoverandstandsinfrontofPosh,bendingoverto kiss her head. Whichmakes somethinginside ofme shift, a movementIcanonlycompare to somethinglike a tectonic plate liningitselfupbeforeabigearthquake
Aman.Inatowel.Kissinghissmalldog.Ithinkmyovariesjustshuddered.Bestpartis,he’snotdone. JakestandsuptallandlooksdownatPosh,cockinghisheadtooneside.“Iloveyou,babygirl.”
Inanactoffull-on,all-outridiculouscuteness,Poshjumpstoherfeet Shemimicshishead,cockingherstoonesidewhile a high-pitchedsoundcomes outofher body.It’s nota barkor a growl,more like a babytryingtosaythe words.Ithinkit’s whatdolphinssoundlikewhentheyaredoingtheirthing,it’sthatoutofmyrealmandsoforeign,yetit’salsosoamazing
Whenshe’sdone,Jaketurnsaroundtofaceme,asmirkonhisface.Hegivesalittlenodanddoesaquickbowatthewaist. “Andthatishowyougetyourdogtotalktoyou.”
“Okay,well,thatisexceptional.”There’saweirdflutterinsidemeasIholduptheyearbookandwaveitintheair.“My missionisaccomplished.I’mwantedonthedeck.”
Jakelooksdownatthetowel,andofcourse,myeyesgowithhis.No,no,no.
“Ishouldgetchanged,”hesays,inclininghisheadtowardtheroombehindme.“Andlook,I’msorryabouttheotherday.I shouldhavesaidsomething,but ”
“It’s fine.”IwaveitofflikeI’mchill rightnow.Sochill.Andnotfreakingoutinsidethatthis manis actuallyextremely coolandseemstohaveawickedsenseofhumor AndhehasabsIswearIcouldbounceaquarteroff Myeyeskeeptryingto looktheirway,butI’mfightingagoodfighthereandworkingreallyhardsotheywon’tgooffontheirownanddowhatthey want Stupideyes
Yet,thosebigbrowneyesofhis pull mein,likeafishthat’sbeenhookedonaline.Herunshisfingersthroughhis hair. “MaybeI’llseeyouagain?”
Theactual thoughtofseeinghimagainsendsawildthrill throughmysemi-irritatedsystem Ireallyhavenoreasontobe irritatedatthispoint,infact,Ifeellikeaskingwhyhegotintosuchahugefightwithmyex.
Look,I’mnota girl thatis gonna condone fighting,butevenIknow thatinhockeysometimes it’s necessary Andalsoin affairsoftheheart,sothefactthatheisthemanwhofoughtsomeonewhowassohorribletomemakesJakemoreintriguing. DoIwanttodoadeepdiveofmyownandgohomeandletmyfingersdotheGoogling?Youbet
And the flutter thatis currentlyflittingaboutmytummyisn’thelpingme. Notone bit. NotwhenIcan’tstop lookinginto thosedarkbrowneyesofhisandwonderwhytheylooksosad.Theurgetoreachoutandtouchhisarmisback,andittakesall Ihave inside me to notsmackthatarmwiththe other one I’ve beenaround this manonlya couple oftimes now, and he’s turningmyradarupsidedown.Oh,exceptforthepartwherethereisthisfeelingofahookinmyverycoreandit’stuggingme intohim
ThisinternalbattleI’mhavingcanonlymeanonething.
But.No.
No, no, no!There’salittlevoiceinsidemyheadthatstartstogetveryloud.Like,superloud.
NO MORE HOCKEYPLAYERS, RILEY!itscreams.
Ishouldlistentoit
“Yeah,maybe.”Swallowing,Istepbackward,smackingintothedoorjamb.Cursinghissorceryundermybreath,myeyes findhimandthere’slaughterdancingbehindthem I’mnotsmoothatthebestoftimes,soIamwellawareI’mnotmakingany kindofgracefulimpressionsnow.
Despitehisbesthypnoticefforts,IfinallypullmyeyesfromthetractorbeamthatisJake.Takingasteptotheright,Iallbut fallintothehallwayandbreakfreeoftheroom.
AsIheadbackdownthestairs,quickly,mymindisalreadyturningitsgears,wonderingwhy.WhyamIfeelinglikeagirl inhighschool withacrush?Whyismyheartslamminginmychest?Besidesthepartwherehewaswearingonlyatowel,it wasjustarun-inwithsomeguywhohappenstobestayinginmyoldbedroom.Butalso,whycareaboutseeinghimagain?I don’tneedtoand,infact,it’sprobablybetterthatIsteerclearofmyparents’houseuntilhe’sgone Jakeisonlyhereforalittlebitlonger.What’sthesaying,hereforagoodtimeandnotalongone…? Right?
Steppingonto the ice rinkearlyinthe morning, before the sunhas fullyrisen, there’s a stillness thatenvelops the entire arena Theonlysoundisthefainthumoftheiceresurfacerasitglidesacrossthesurface,smoothingoutanyimperfections leftfromthepreviousday’sactivities.Theairiscrispandcold,tingedwiththepromiseofabrand-newday.
I’ve always liked this time ofdayto be ona rink. The ice stretches outbefore me, pristine and untouched, like a blank canvas waitingto be painted It’s a moment of quiet solitude, a rare opportunityfor reflectionbefore the chaos of the day begins.
Itake a deepbreath,the chill ofthe air fillingmylungs as Iskate outontothe ice The blades ofmyskates bite intothe surface witha satisfyingcrunch, sendinga shiver ofanticipationdownmyspine. This is mysanctuary, myhome awayfrom home,wheretheworldfadesawayandit'sjustmeandtheice
AsIglideeffortlesslyacrosstherink,Ican’thelpbutfeelasenseofpeacewashoverme.Therhythmicsoundofmyskates cuttingthroughtheiceislikemusictomyears,afamiliarmelodythatsoothesmysoul.Thisismyplayground.It’sdefinitely notasbigastheoneweusefortheRenegades,butit’sperfectforwhatIneedrightnow
Ilovethefeelingthatrushesthroughmeassoonasmybladeshittheice;IamincontrolandfeellikeIhaveasuperpower thatnoonecantakeawayfromme
Travissaidhe’dcalledaheadandarrangedforsomeonetosetuptheiceformetodaytogivemeagoodrunatsomedrills I’musedtodoing.WhenIarrived,oneoftheguyswhorunstheconcessionstandhadplacedsmallblackcircularobjectsthat looklikeridinglawnmowertiresinstrategicplacesaroundtheice.NotwhatI’musedto,butitworks.
ItossapuckinfrontofmeasIstepontotheiceandstartthefirstofmydrills doingtightturnsaroundthosetiresforpuck protection Theambientnoiseoftheairconditioning,theglideofthebladesofmyskatesontheice,toppedoffwiththesound ofthepuckasmysticktapsiteveryfewsecondsreleasesanytensionI’vebeenholdinginmyshoulders.
Istayworkingonthismoveforanotherfewminutesbeforeflowingintopivotpractice,usingmybodytoprovidecoverand pivotwhilemakingsurethepuckisprotected.Mydadpopsintomythoughtsagain;he’snothaditeasyforthelastfewyears, butI’mproudofthemanhewants tobe.Oneoftheperks ofplayingfor ateamis thesteadypaycheck,andTravis has been goodabouthandlingmynegotiationssoIgetfairpay,andithelpsmetotakecareofmydad,too.
Imoveontoinside-outpivotsnow,andthedrillsgetmorecomplex kindoflikethatfather-sonrelationship.Justthinking aboutthelasttimeIsawhim,Icanfeelmyenergygetmorechaotic,frenetic,andIknowIneedtoworkonthis Ican’tletmy worryforhimsparkaninternalragethatstartstoshow;it’lljustmakepeoplethinkthey’rerightaboutme.
It’snotthatI’mangryatmypops,it’sthatI’mangryatthesituation MymotherdiedwhenIwaslittle,soitwashimdoing the besthe could for us, and ona meager restaurantmanager’s salary. WhenIwanted to startplayingice hockey, he tooka secondjobontheweekendsworkingasawaiterforanearlybreakfastshiftsohe’dmakeenoughmoneytopayformygear.
Wedidn’thavealot,buthealwaysmadesurewewereneverlacking Healwaysputmefirst,andI’llberepayinghimfor thatfortherestofourlives.
Istayfocusedandworkonmoredrills,comingoutofmylittleworldofsolacewhenInoticemorepeopleareinthearena now.Slowingdown,Istopneartheedgetocatchmybreathandlookaround.
“Um,excuseme,”someonecallsout,“butIthinkmyson’steamneedstheicenow”
Spinningaround,Ifindatallwomanwithblondhairpiledhighontopofherheadandsunglassespushedbackwatchingme withasparkleinhereyeassheleansagainstthebalustrade.AlittleknockinmyguttellsmeI’veseenthatlookbefore,butI’m goingtogiveherthebenefitofthedoubt
“Oh?”Iskateovertoastopjustbeyondwhereshe’sstanding.AsIdo,shemakessureIseeasshegivesalook,sweeping hereyesuponesideofmybodyandrightbackdowntheother “IthinkIhaveituntilten”
“It’snine-fiftynow,so…”Shetapsherwristandwinksatme.WhenIlookcloser,she’snotevenwearingawatch. “Gotcha” Skatingbackward, Istartpickingup the tinytires and bringingthemover to the side ofthe rink, tossingthem overthebalustradetogetthemofftheice.
“I’dhelpyouifIcould,”sheallbutpurrs.WhenIlookherway,shemakesalittleshowoutoftakingherhairoutofitsbun
andshakesherheadlikeshe’sashampoomodel,thenletsithangloosearoundherface.She’sabeautifulwoman,buttheway she’sjustangledherbodyatmeandtheexpressionshewearstellsmeshe’soneof“those”fans.
Fortherecord,Ilovemyfans;I’vegotsomeamazingfolkswhosupportme,butthere’sasmallpercentagewhodothings likesendmetheirundergarmentsinthemailorshowupatgamesinmyjerseyandtrytobreakintothelockerroomsotheycan meetme BothofthesearetruestoriesandnoteventsI’dliketorepeat
“It’stotallyfine,”Imumble,tryingnottomakeeyecontactlikeyou’resupposedtodowithbears.Isawadocumentaryon blackbearsonce,whichsaidifyou’reinthewildandyouseeone,donotmakeeyecontactbecausetheyseeitasachallenge Ofcourse,mymindstoredthatveryvaluablepieceofinformationawayformynextoutingaroundbears.
IskateovertotheexitandcomeofftheicetogetmyphonesoIcancallforaride,andshefollowsme.Great.Icanseemy futurenow:foratleastthenextthirtyminutes,I’llbehidingoutinthelockerroomuntilmyridegetshere
“Youmustbenewintown,”shesays,sidesteppingasmallgangofkidswhoarehorsingaroundastheypullontheirgear. “I’mMandy Mysonplaysinthejuniorleague”
“That’snice,Ihopehelikesit.”Icanbekindandprofessionalwhilemovingataswiftpace,butshe’skeepingup. “Hecouldusesomeprivatelessons Knowanyonewhomaybeabletohelp?” “Mandy, Icanthinkofabouttenguys who could help youout,” a familiar voice calls out. “Infact, one ofthemis your husband.Isn’thethecoachofyourson’steam?”
WhenIlooktowardthevoice,awarmthfloodsmyveinsandmystomachdips Saiddipisfollowedbyatinglingfeeling thatrollsrightacrossmybody.
Can’tlie it’sprettyinterestingtowatchMandy’seyesnarrowasshesetshersightsonRiley “Hi,Riley,”shesayswithvenomdrippingfromeachword.“Nicetoseeyou.”
“Sure itis.” Rileylaughs.She shifts her weightfromone foottothe other tobalance outthe giantbrownboxshe’s busy balancing.“Howarethingsgoingwithplanningforthefundraiser?”
“Good,”shesays,flickingherhandtowardme.“Infact,Ihadanideatoaskthissuperstarifhe’dbesokindastodonate somethingtotheevent”
Riley’seyesmeetmineandshemakesafaceassherollsthem.It’slikeshe’sreadingmymind.
“Well,runitpastmymomfirst,okay? Webothknow how muchofa control freakshe canbe She likes handlingall the requestsforitemstobedonatedforanyeventshedoes,soI’msureshe’llwanttohandlethisonewithJakeaswell.”
Mandypursesherlipstightly,hergazeswingingbackandforthbetweenRileyandmeuntilshebusiesherselfpullingher hairbackupintoapileontopofherhead.
“Thanksforthetip,Riley,”shegrowlsasshewalksoff,turningaroundonelasttimetosmirkinmydirection.“AndI’llsee youaround”
Webothwatchherwalkaway,joiningasmallcrowdofparentsontheothersideoftherinkastheysettleintowatchtheir kidspractice WhenIturntoRiley,she’schewinghercheek “Youthinkit’sfunny?”
“She’salwaysbeenanightmare.Shedriveseveryonecrazy.”Rileystandswithherhandonherhip,headtiltedtotheside, andisonehundredpercentsizingmeuprightnow “HaveyoueverseenDirty Dancing?” “Ihave.”
“Well,doyourememberthewomanwhoJohnnywouldgivedancinglessonsto,theonewhosehusbandneverpaidherany attention?ShewassleepingwithJohnnyandIthinksomeoftheotheremployeesatthesummerlodgethingtheywerestaying at”
“Ithinkwesawherleavethecabinoftheguywhogothersisterpregnant,right?” Riley’seyeswidenandshestepsback,noddingwithapproval.“Okay,youknowyourmovietrivia.”
“It’s Dirty Dancing,”Isaywithawink “It’slikeaprerequisitetowatchwhenyou’reateenager”
Shegigglesanditmakesmesmilewider.“Well,that’sher.Shedoesmeanwell,butshe’sperpetuallyinheat.”
Ahotflushmakesitswayacrossmycheeks “Okay,then Noted”
Shelooksaroundthearena,scanningthegroupsofpeoplewhoaremillingaboutbeforehereyeslandonmeagain.“Just tryingtobehelpful”
“Well,”Itease,standingup.Iholdmyhandsouttomyside.“Ifyou’reherehopingtocatcharide,I’mclosedtoday.You’ll havetocallacab.”
“Youknow,you’retheonewholetastrangerinastrangetowngetinyourcar”Sherollshereyes “AndIthoughtwe’ve movedpastthat.”
“Yourargumentmaybefactuallycorrect,butalsomakesnosense”Waggingafinger,Istepclosertoher,gettingawhiffof gardeniaandlilies,whichIknowain'tme.“Bycallingasharedride,usinganapp,youaretakingariskbecausehowdoyou knowwhosecaryou’regettinginto?Youcould,Idon’tknow…hopintothewrongcarbymistake?”
Iknowmypointismadebytheflushofpinkspreadingacrosshercheeks.
“Whatever.” She holds up her boxinthe air and starts backingaway. “Ineed to drop this offand go. Do youneed my
securityservicesanylonger?”
“No,butI’dlovetoknowwhatyou’vegotinthatbox.”
“Croissants”Ashysmileflitsacrossherlips “You’reabaker?”
“Ijusthappentomakeacroissantthatthelocalswouldkillfor,orsoI’vebeentold,”shesayswithagiggle “I’mdoingit tohelppaythebillswhileIgetmycateringbusinessofftheground.”
Ireachtowardthebox,butshemovesherbodysoit’soutofreach “Sorry,butyou’llhavetopayforoneattheconcession standlikeeveryoneelse.”
“Fine.”Isitdownandstarttakingoffmyskates.“I’lldothat.”
“Good Well,youdowhatyouneedandI’llgobacktowork Seeyouaround,December,”shesaysoverhershoulderas sheheadsovertothestand.
Once myskates are off, Imake mywayto the locker roomto change, comingbackouta few minutes later onlyto find someone’swaitingformeatthelockerroomdoor.
“Hey,there,”Mandysays,placingahandonmyarmtostopme “Youknow,Iwasserious Aboutthelessons”
Anervousheatflowsthroughme.It’sonethingwhenasinglefandoesthistoyou,butnowthatIknowshe’smarriedwith kidsandbothherhusbandandsonarehere,Ijustfeelicky.
“Sorry, Idon’tdo lessons,” Isay, pushingpasther Glancingaround, myeyes land onRiley, who is still standingatthe counter talkingtooneoftheguys whoworks here.Istill havemyiPhoneclutchedinmyhandtocall her dadfor aride,but judgingthepredatorywayI’mbeingstalked,Ineedtogetoutofherenow
“I’llmakeitworthyourwhile,”Mandysays,hervoicelower.“They’dbeformysonandforme,too.”
We’regettingclosertothestand,andIcan’tmovefastenough.Itfeelsliketimeisstandingstillandnotinagoodway.I wanttogetfarawayfromthisandfast.
“Sorry,Mandy,Ican’t.Ineedto…Riley!”IcalloutasIjogtowardRiley,whoturnsatwhatIassumeisthesoundofher name IthrowmyhandintheairandwaveasIgetcloser
I’mgoing to the sidebar here to let you know I’ma very smooth man when I’mon the ice. I can skate like nobody’s business,likeafishtowater Meandmyskates Graceful Buttoday,meandwalking?We’refailingtocommunicate
Something happens as I get closer to Riley. My feet stop talking with my brain, or vice versa. All I know is that they suddenlytripup,andinaclassiccaseofMurphy’sLaw,I’mabouttobiteit.
I’mabigguy,soIknowifIgodown,it’sgoingtohurt.ButifIgodownandtakesomeoneoutwithme,Icouldalsohurt them.All ofthisracesthroughmymindasIfindmyselfblindlyreachingout,swipingandaccidentallygrabbingRiley.She’s nowbeenpulledintomytornadoandisalongfortheridewhethershelikesitornot
Inoneswiftandsmooth ifIdosaysomyself move,ImanagetodeftlyturnmyselfaroundinmidairasI’mfallingtothe groundsoIcanplacemyselfsquarelybetweenherandtheconcretefloor
Onegiantthudlater,andwe’reatangledmessoflimbs.Ican’tseeanything,butIfeelherweightontopofmybody,and herhairisinmymouth.Shesmellslikeflowersandlime,withahintofhappinessandsunshine.Icanfeelthewarmthofher bodyagainstmineanditfeelslikeasoftblanketonacoldday Perfection
IsitweirdIwanttosavorthismomentforjustahotsecondbeforeitends?
As sherolls over,her eyes wide,Rileyshakes her head “Ifyouneededtogetmyattention,youcouldhavejustsaidmy name,Twinkletoes.”
“IdohaveafavorIwantedtoask”
Eyesfulloflaughterfindmine.“Moresecurity?” “CanIgetaride?”
Being in the same room as Jake December can be one thing, especially now that I’ve seen him, his tattoos, and his ridiculouslydeliciousmusclesinallofthebestplaceswrappedlikeaChristmaspresentinafluffytowel
Butbeinginasmall spacelikethefrontseatofacar withhim?Well,that’sawholeother storyaltogether.Atleast nowthatIknowhimitis.
I’mshockedatmyownactionswhenIrealizeI’msneakingsidewaysglancesathimasIdriveusalongbackroadstomy parents’house.
“Areyoucheckingmeout,Richards?”Hisvoiceisliterallysmoothlikevelvet Likeavelvetyhotchocolateonawinter’s night.
Andthisgirlisthirsty
“Nope.”Keepingmyeyefocusedontheroadahead,IgivealittleheadnodinthedirectionI’mdriving.“I’maone-way kindofgal.Focusingononethingatatime.”
“Aone-waykindofgal,huh?”heasks,histoneteasing
“Just,shush,”Isay,laughing.“Andalso,enjoythepaybackofgettingaridewithastranger.Ishoulddrivelikeabatoutof hellandfreakyououtthewholewayback”
“But you’re not a stranger anymore, are you?” He pokes my shoulder with one finger playfully. “You’re Travis’s little sister.”
“That I am.” This man smells like sweat, clean sheets, and sandalwood. Why in the world is that combination even appealingtomerightnow?“Hesaidyou’rehisbestfriend.”
Jakenods,shiftinginhisseatalittle “Yourbrotherhasbeengoodtomeovertheyears WewerefriendsbeforeIsigned withhim.”
“Friends first, huh?” I can’t hide the grin that plays on my lips “You know, our parents always said that the best relationshipsstartthatway.It’showtheirlovestorystarted.”
“Well,tobefair,he’snotreallymytype.”Heleansacrosstheseat,closertome.“He’salittlemoreintensethanIusually date.”
“Fairenough,”Isaywithachuckle,slowingtoturndownmyoldstreet.
“So,thecroissants,”Jakesaysslowly,drawingouteachwordsoitssyllablesarelongerthanever Narrowingmyeyes,Ithrowalookinhisdirection.“Whataboutthem?”
“They’rereallygood Areyougoingtoopenabakery?”
“Me? No way. This is something I’mdoing to help bring in extra cash right now. I want to be a personal chef cater privatefunctionsandworkwithpeopleonmealdelivery.I’vegotaone-yearplan.I’minmytestingandpracticemodenow.”
“One-yearplan?”
Turninginto the drivewayofmyformer home, Ikill the ignitionand turninmyseatto face Jake. He has boy-next-door vibeshappeningrightnowlikenobody’sbusiness Mystomachdipsasmyeyeslockwithhis
“Thisyear,I’mputtingmyselfoutthereandworkingonbothlargerfunctionsthatIcancaterwhileIalsohonemypersonal chef skills Mostly on friends at the moment” Movement fromthe house catches my eye, and I look up to see my mother standinginthefrontbaywindowwatchinguswithaphonepressedtoherear,waving.
Jakefollowswheremyeyesaretrackingandliftsahandtowave.“She’salsointense,yourmom.IseewhereTravisgetsit from,butshe’sreallynice”
“She’soneofmyclientsrightnow.”Liftingashoulderintheair,Isigh.“Igotmyfirstbigbreakthankstomymommy.”
“Youhavetostartsomewhere Sheseemslikeabusywoman Atdinnerlastnight,shementionedlike,eightdifferentclubs andcommitteesshe’sapartof.Whatdoesshehaveyoucater?”
“Afewmonthsago,mymomhostedafundraiserforalocalfoodbank Allthemoneygoestowardmealsandgroceryitems forfamiliesintheareawhoarehavingitrough.”
“That’sagreatcause,andoneIheardaboutlastnight,too,”hesayswithachuckle.
“That’smymom.Forthisparticularfundraiser,she’dtalkedalocalFrenchchefintodoingaprivatemealforeightpeople asoneoftheauctionitems.Sadly,thechefhadtopulloutafewweeksagoduetoafamilyemergencybackinFrance.Shewas stuck,butDadsuggestedIstepin”Laughingsoftly,Ishakemyheadatthememory “Shedidn’tliketheideaatfirst,butImade acaseformyself.IwassureIcoulddoit,untilshesaidyes.TheneverydoubtI’veeverhadaboutmyselfseemedtoappearin frontofme Itdoesn’thelpthatshelikestoremindmethatherreputationisintertwinedwithmine”
Another flicker of movement fromthe house pulls my attention. We both watch as the curtains sway closed and Mom disappearsfromourview Itmakesmealittletwitchy Istartlookinginmyrearviewmirrorandoutthewindows,whichJake picksuponprettyquickly.
“Whatareyoudoing?”
“She’slikeashark WhenIcan’tseeher,Iknowshe’sinthewater”Turningaroundinmyseat,Ilookattheroadbehindus andgrabmyheart.Idon’tthinkasIreachoutandputmyhandonJake’sforearm hisverylarge,hard,andimpressiveforearm andgripittogethisattention “Look!Itoldyou She’satthemailboxnow”
Jakeswivelsinhisseat,hiseyeswidening,buthedoesn’tmovehisarmfromunderneathmyhand.“Howdidshedothat?” “Secrettunnel?Idon’tknow Thewomanhasweirdpowers YousawMandycavewhenImentionedhernameattherink NoonecrossesMadDog.”
“MadDog?”
“It’sthenameTravisandIgaveherafterafreak-outshehadataparentandteacherassociationeventatourhighschool Shewasn’thappywithhow oneoftheteacherswastreatingstudents,andshestoodupandhadhersay.Itwaslikeshecame alivethatnight Ireallydon’trememberherever beingsovocal aboutthingsinourcommunityuntil then Shegaveaspeech thathad the same fervor as a televangelist. Her eyes were wild, her gestures were exaggerated. Itwas like she mistookher momenttospeakas her time inthe spotlight,because she was intoit.” DoIgiggle atthe memory? YoubetIdo.“Itwas the nightMadDogcameoutofhershellandhasn’tlookedback.”
“Okay.”Keepinghiseyesonherasshewalksuptomycar,henodshishead.“Icanseeit.”
“Becareful She’llhaveyouvolunteerforsomethingbeforeyouknowwhat’shappening” Jakelaughsbutkeepsaneyetrainedonmymom.“I’mhappytodonatesomeitemsifsheneedsthemforafundraiser.”
I’msurprisedwhenshesimplytapsonthehoodofthecarandthenkeepsongoingbacktothehouse,notevenpausingto askquestions.Ortoaskmehowthemenuiscoming.Oranything.
Jakeswingshisheadbacktofaceme.“Soyou’reinchargeofamealforyourtype-Amother.Whatdoesthatlooklike?” “Truffles.”
“Likechocolatetruffles?Doessheknowit’samealofallsugar?”
“No,notthatkindoftruffles AlthoughIamservingsomeofthesweettrufflesyou’rethinkingoffordessert”Icanfeelmy nerd hatcomingoutbecause this is a subjectIlike talkingabout. Food. “I’musinglocal savorytruffles. It’s the umami I’m themingthenightaround I’vegotsomefriendswholivenearhereandtheyhaveatrufflefarm Theywantedsomepromotion forit,sotheyagreedtohelpsponsorthenightanddonatesometruffles.”
“Youknow,I’vebeenouttoeatatafewnicerestaurantsandIdon’tthinkI’veevergoneforthetruffleanything.” “Noteventrufflefries?”Iask,myjawgoingslack “Comeon,eventhelocalbarservesthose” Helooksatmewoefullyasheshrugs.“Nope.Nevertried‘em.”
“You need to fix that, and quickly” As I turn to meet his gaze, something shifts between us It’s a subtle, almost imperceptiblechange,butIcanfeelitnonetheless.
Icanonlyspeakfor myself, butI’mfeelinga mixofcuriosityand anticipation, a quietacknowledgmentofsome kind of connection. There’s a quiet exchange betweenus, a silent conversationunfoldinginthe space betweenour gazes. It’s as if we’retestingthewaters,exploringtheunspokenpossibilitiesthatliebetweenus.
Icouldalsobeabsolutelyinsane,butpartofmeisfeelingatug,deepintheverycenterofmycore “Jake!”
Thesoundofsomeonecallinghisnamemakesourheadsswivelinthedirectionofthehouse,wheremymotherisstanding andwavingatus.ShepointstoJakeandholdsupthehomephone,anarchaicthingtohaveinsomecircles,Iknow,butwedo stillhavealandlinehereattheRichardsproperty
“You’vegotaphonecall,dear,”sheyellsout.
“Ifeellikewe’vebeenoutonadateandaregettingcaughtmakingout.”Justhimsayingthewords“makingout”isenough tosendawildthrillofanticipationrightthroughme
Grippingthesteeringwheel,Ismileandnod.“Yeah.Right?Makingout.”Assoonasthewordscomeoutofmymouth,I wanttoshovethembackin What A Nerd
“Seeyalater,Riley.Thanksfortheride.”Heopensthedoorandclimbsout,thecarsuddenlyemptierwithouthisbulknext tome.
Iwatchashesidlesupthefrontpathtothedoor,turningtowaveashegoesinside,andItryhardtoignorethepatterofmy traitorousheart.
Walkingupthestepstomylittleapartmentintown,thesong“IndependentWomen”byDestiny’sChildalwaysgoesthroughmy head IlovethisplacebecauseIfoundit Ihadafriendandrealtorhelpingmelookforplacesatthetime,butthisoneIfound onmyown.Iwalkedbythedaythatthelandlordputa“forrent”signinthefrontwindow.
Thebuildingusedtobeathree-storytownhomebuthadbeenbrokendownintothreeseparateapartmentsovertheyears I liveonthesecondfloor,rightaboveacouplewhoarealittlebit…how doIputitpolitely?Let’sjustsaythey’retwobricks shyofaloadonagoodday Theapartmentabovemeisalsooccupied,butit’smylandlord’ssupercoolaunt,Frannie Shehas owneditforeveranddoesn’tliveherefulltime.ShesavesitfortripsshemakestoSweetkissCreek.Likethisweek.Iraninto hertheotherdayatthemarket,soIknowshe’shere.
Trudgingup the steps to myplace, the smell ofsoftflorals hits mysenses and I’mgreeted bya huge bouquetofflowers sittinginfrontofmydoor.Roses,lilies,andtulipsarepiledintoagiantglassvase,withfernandeucalyptustuckedinaswell. Igetthedooropen,bendingdowntogatherthearrangementinmyarmsbeforeIgoinsideandkickthedoorclosedbehind me.Placingthebouquetonmykitchentable,IpluckoutthecardonlytofeelalittlesicktomystomachwhenIreadthenote.
“IfIhavetosendyoumoreofthese,Iwill I’msorry Imissyou,Riley XOXO,Todd”Sighing,Ileanagainstmydeskand lookdownattheaquariumthathousesmymainman,andkeeperofallmysecretsbydefault,BradPitttheturtle. Iholdupthecardtoshowhim.“Hekeepstrying,butI’mjustnotthatintohim.”
Brad turns his head in my direction; I know he’s listening to me He may also be sunning himself on a rock, but he’s listening.
Shuddering, I head into the kitchenand pull out the ingredients I need to tryout one of myappetizers for the bachelor auction.Potatoflanwithatrufflecream.
AsIgetthewaterboilingonthestoveandstartpeelingpotatoes,Ican’thelpbutletmythoughtsdriftbacktowhenIdated Todd.Travishadwarnedmenotto,butIhadtoplaywithfire.Ilethimsweepmeoffmyfeet.Itstartedsmall,withacoffee dateafterwemetatagame.I’dgonewithTravistowatchsomenewclientsofhisplay,andToddwasontheteam.Hewasn’t theToddTaylor thatpeopleknow now Thesedays,he’sahockeysuperstarwhoisknownfor beingdifficulttoworkwith I cansayIsawitcoming.
Iturnontheovenandpullmypremadetrufflecreamoutofthefridge IgrabthemoldsIneedandgeteverythingorganized beforeputtingitintheoven.I’vegotfiftyminutes.
While I wait, I run through the shower and try not to entertain the ickiness I feel inside that comes fromhaving dated someonelikeTodd.Somewomenwouldlikethefactthatthisguywastryingtogetbackintheirgoodgraces.It’sthesecond timeinthepastmonthhe’ssentflowers.ButIknowtheplayer, and thegame.
Ialsoknowthathumiliationisnotmycolor
Mytimer dings,lettingme know thatthe appetizers are readytotry.Imade waytoomany,butas longas atleastone of themtastesgood,I’llfeellikeI’vegotasolidhandleonthisdish
AsIopentheovendoor,Ihearthefrontdoortotheapartmentupstairsslamshut.Franniemustbehome.Eyeingtheflowers andtheextrapotatoflaninfrontofme,Iknowexactlywherethisstuffcango.
Afewminuteslater,FrannieopensherdoortomyknockwithasurprisedlookonherfaceasIhandherthebouquet “Again?”sheaskswithawrysmile.“Isthatjerkheadstilltryingtoapologize?”
“Youknow it,” Irespond, waitingfor her to putthe flowers downbefore Ihand her the plate “I’mtryingthis dish an appetizer potatoflanwithatrufflecream.Havesomeandletmeknowwhatyouthink.”
“You’rethebestneighborever Thankyou,dear”Franniethrowsathumboverhershoulderatajerseythat’sstillthrown acrossthebackofherdiningroomchair.“Istillneedtopassonthatjerseytomygrandson.He’sgoingtoloveit.I’msavingit forhisbirthday.”
I eye the familiar fabric It’s Todd’s jersey that I wore to a few games of his before the lies came out “Shame it’s Todd’s…”
“I’mgoingtoencouragehimtosellitoneBay,don’tyouworry,”shejokesasshesqueezesmyarm “Or,maybeinsteadof givingittohim,IshoulduseitfortheBigBrothersBigSistersprogram.”
“Areyouworkingonthatfundraiserwithmymom?”
“Isuream.”Franniefloatsacrossthefoyerandplacesthebouquetonherdiningroomtable.“Notsurewhy,butwehave feweradultsintheareasigningupthanwe’vehadinthepast.It’sdiscouraging,andweneedmorepeople.”
Noddingmyhead,Icrossmyarms “Doyouthinkafundraiserisgoingtodothetrick?”
“I’mnotconvinced.Ithinkweneedadrawcard,somethingbiggerthananightofeducation,andsilentauctionitemslike giftcardstoacoffeeshopandthelike,nooffensetoanycafeowners It’sjustthatit’salittleboring,butdon’tyoudaretell yourmotherIsaidthat.”
“Notaproblem,”Isaywithagiggle,still standinginher doorway.“ButIthinkyou’reright.Anythoughtsor ideasfor a newwaytorecruit?”
“Not yet, but I’mbrainstorming,” Frannie says. “I feel like we need to get some people inwho canspeakto what the programisaboutandhowtheyhelpedthem.”
“Likepastlittlebrothersandsisterswhoarenowolderandmaybepayingitforward?” “Yes,oroneswhohavegoneontogreatthings.LikethePorterboys.”
“Oh,thatistrue!”Myheadnodsautomatically “Ialwaysforgetthosetwogrewupwithoutadad”
“Yep.Theirmomisamazing.She’smentionedtomeinthepastthattheBigBrothersBigSistersprogramhelpedherand thematatimewhenshewasatherwit’send”
ThePorterbrothersarenotonlymytrufflesupplier,butthey’realsoalittlebitfamousfortheseparts.Bothboyswerestars ofourfootballteaminhighschoolandhavegoneontoplayforopposingNFLteams.They’reabsolutedreamboatswhoTravis andIgrewupwith LeviandAustinarehilarious,atraitthatisshowcasedontheirweeklypodcasttheyhosttogether “Youknow,I’mgoingtoseethemthisweektopickupsometruffles.Doyouwantmetofeelthemoutforyou?”
Frannie’seyeslightup “Wouldyou?Thatwouldbeamazing TheyarethekindofdrawthatIthinkcouldgetmoreadultsto signuponcetheyheartheirstory.”
“I’mhappytoseewhattheysay”Itakeastepbackandtossahandintheair “I'llletyouknowwhathappens” We say goodbye and I head back to my place, closing the door behind me. The slight movement sends the scent of somethinglikecleansheetsandsandalwoodtomysenses,andasnapofexcitementmakesmesigh. ItsmellslikeJake
SweetkissCreekisquietthismorning.IlikesneakinginarunasoftenasIcan,butIlovedoingitfirstthingintheday,and ifIcandoitwhentherestoftheworldiseitherjustwakingupormaybeslowlyrealizingit’stimetogetup,evenbetter
Riley’s dad had to leave to open the cafe early this morning, so I hitched a ride and had him drop me off at a campgroundjustoutsideoftownsoIcouldmakemywayin.He’samanofmanyfacets,andcars.Today,hecameinhisPrius, butIcan’tlieIwashopinghe’dfireupthe‘63Mustang Maybeanotherday
StartingmydayjoggingbesidealakesoundedlikesomethingIcoulduserightnowtoclearmyhead.Therewasonething, oroneperson,whokeepshangingoutrent-freeinmythoughts,andifI’mhonestwithmyself,Idon’tmindit Notonebit
Fromthe moment she jumped into the back of my car and scared the crap outta me, I’ve been pretty intrigued by this woman Travishastoldmeabouthislittlesister,whohisdadadoresbutapparentlymakeshermomcrazy Ihavefriendswith kidswhowouldattesttothefactthatit’samother-and-daughterthing.IwonderwhatRileywouldsayitwas?
Themorningairhasachill,butthere’swarmthinthesunshinetoday.Ineverthoughtthatbeginningthisyearwithmynew teamI’dbeendingittryingtogobacktomyoldone,andprettymuchinthedoghousewithahandfulofpeopleIrespectwith all ofmyheart. I’d made the jump fromthe River CityRenegades to be seen Ihad a chance to getona teamwithseveral otherplayerswhoit’sbeenrumoredareontheirwaytotheNHL
WhenIwasaskedtojointhem,Isawanopportunity.Inmymind,Icouldgetonthatteamandnotonlymakeabiggername formyselfthere,butasotherplayersclimbedoutofAHLstatusandmoveduptothenextleague,Iwantedtoatleastreplace themifIwasn’tgoingwiththem.EverythingIheardabouttheteamsoundedlikeitwouldbeagoodmove.OneIcouldmake smoothlyandeasily,apathwiththeleastresistance.
Onlyitwasn’t Concentratingonmyfeetastheylandontheground,crunchingtherockonthegravelpath,I’mremindedof thenot-so-welcomewelcomeIwasgivenwhenIarrived.Iwasbarelyacknowledged,notthatIneededtoalwaysbe,butIwas new Youwouldthinkthatbeingateam,thedynamicswouldbedifferent Well,theywere,butitwasthattheyweredifferent fromtheteamIhadchosentoleave.Thecaptainoftheteam,knowninthepressforbeingabitofanarcissisticbuttholebut alsolovedbecausehe’sareallyamazingplayer(thingsI’llneverunderstandaboutthehumanpsyche),triedtofightmeonthe icethatfirstday.
I’mnotthekindofguywhostandsdownfromanything,butIdotrytostayawayfromtrouble.Mydadtaughtmebetterthan that I’malsobig,sowhygetintoafightwithanyone?Butwhenyou’vegotsomeoneyoursizeorevenbiggerslamminginto youonpurposeoverandover,andinyourfirstpractice,youbegintothinkit’smorethanasimplehazing.
TheteamI’dcomefrom?Thebest TheRenegadesarelike,themostsupportivegroupever Ourcoach,afamilymanwho alwayshadhiskidsaroundhelpingout.Theplayersmadesurethatifanyonecameintoourhouseandwasnewtotheteam,no matteriftheywereontheicewithus,workedinthearena,orintheoffices,theyfeltlikefamily.Itwasafamily,agreatbig wonderfulonethatstucktogether,evenhangingoutonholidays,andIhadtogoandsplititup
Islowdowntocheckmytimeonlytofindanewsalerthaspoppeduponmyphone.Nottosoundnarcissisticmyself,but duetothisreporterwho’stryingtotearmedown,I’dsetupanalertonmyname Anditlookslikeshe’satitagain “Jake December’s career inlimbo.” Itake a calmingbreathinthroughmynose and breathe itall outthroughmymouth slowly,takingasecondtobendoverandtouchmytoes,hangingtherelimpandswaying “Why,Greta Whyareyoudoingthis tome?”
“Ummm,”avoicesaysslowly,laughing,“areyouawarethere’snoonenamedGretaaround?” Standingupstraight,myheartslamsinmychestwhenIlookintotheeyesofagigglingRiley She’sgotherhairpulledback intoabunatthebaseofher neckandiswearingatrucker hatwiththeRenegadeslogoonit.Idon’tthinkshehasatraceof makeupon,yetshe’sglowing,whichcanbeafeatatthistimeofmorningforanyone Superheroesincluded Toputitinnormaldudespeak,shelookshot.I’dgosofarastosayshe’sonfire.Andit’snoteveneightinthemorning. “Hey,”Imanage,tryingtohidethenervousstutterthatthreatens It’sanoldanxietytraitI’vehadtoworkonovertheyears Rileyeyesmewithamischievousgrin.“So,Greta.Isshesomeoneworthnoting?” “No.”Iholdupahandtostopher fromsayinganythingmore,andher eyeswiden.“Sorry,IthinkIsaidthatwithalittle
moreaggressionthanImeantto.”
“Hey.Noproblemhere.”Rileyholdsupahand,wavingitintheairasifshe’swipingthemomentaway.“Ishouldn’thave beennosy”
We’restandingattheedgeofLakeLoreleiinasmallparkwithapromenadethatlinkstothemainstreetintown.Theedges ofthesmallparkarelinedwithgardenbedsburstingwithcolorfulflowerslikephlox,tulips,irises,anddaffodils Afewpark benchesandpicnictables arescatteredabout,partlyfilledbypeoplesippingontheir coffees andplayinggames ofchess or checkers
There’salsoanoldfountaininthemiddleofthegreenspace,rightbehindRiley,andontheother sideofthatisacoffee cartthat’ssetupandopenforthemorningcrowd.Theambientnoiseofwaterasitrollsontothelakeshoreiscalming. Incliningmyheadtowardthecart,Ilockmyeyeswithhers “Wereyoudoinganotherdelivery?” “Oh,youbetIwas.”Shethrowsathumbover her shoulder tothecart.“ThreedaysaweekI’mdownhere,droppingoff theirorder Iusuallygoforarunafterward”
“Ah.”IfeellikeI’mbeingcuedtosomething,soIstepback.“Don’tletmekeepyou.”
“Actually,”shesaysasshelooksaround,“Iwokeuponthebackfootthismorning Isthatevenasaying?”
“Itis,butIthinkit’smeantthatyou’dbedefensive.Like,inalessthanadvantageouspositioncomparedtosomeoneyou’re opposing.” WhenIsee the lookonher face, Icracka smile. “I’ma bitofa nerd. WhenIwas incollege, Itooka class in linguisticsanddidastudyonidioms”
Icantellshe’sbitingbackherlaughter.Herlipsaren’tmoving,buthereyesgiveitaway.
“That’sunexpected”
“Ipridemyselfonbeingfullofsurprises.”
“I’msurprisedtohaverunintoyouagainsosoon,”shequips.“So.IsGretaalsoasurprise?”
Rollingmyeyes,Islipmybodyintoastandinghamstringstretch.“GretaissomeoneIoncekindadated.Thingsended,I thoughtamicably,butapparentlyshedoesn’tfeelthesameway.”
Shecocksherheadtotheside “Andshe’smakingyourlifehardrightnow?” “She’sasportsreporterwhohasthepoweroftheinternetandsocialmediabehindher.”
“Ahhh Soshe’senjoyingthefactyou’reamanwithoutateamrightnowandseenasawildcard?”
“That’sputtingitlightly,butyeah.She’senjoyingitbecauseitgetsherheadlines.”
“Andyoudidn’tdoanythingtomakehermadwhenyoubrokeup?”
“IthoughtIhandleditallthebestwayIcould.Itookheroutfordinner…” Riley’sfacescrunches.“Ohhhh.Pleasedon’ttellmeyoudiditinpublic.”
“Imean,theconversationleanedthatwayatdinner,soIwentwithit”
“Youtookher outtoeat,andwithoutwarningyoubrokethings offinapublicsettingsoshehadtoholditall in ifshe helditallin,thatis untilyouleftandweresomewheremoreprivatetotalk,then?”
“Imean…”I’mfindingitsomewhatcomicalthatI’mhavingtoexplainthisrightnow.“Iwascomingfrompracticeandshe wascomingfromwork,sowemetattherestaurant.”
“Youmaybeemotionallystunted”Riley’sfaceisseriousasshethreadsherarmstightlyinfrontofherchest “Youdidn’t evendriveherhomeafteroroffertotalkfurther,didyou?”
“Well ”Isearchmybrainforananswer,anykindthatwon’tmakemesoundasmuchofabuffoonasitdoesnow,butI’ve gotnothing. Inless thantwo minutes, this new-to-me womanhas shownme the mirror and pointed outwhere Iwentwrong. “Yeah,no Ithoughtweweregoodwhenweleft Ipaidthebillandwehuggedoutside,andthatwasthat”
“Oh,man.Andshe’sareporter?”Rileydoesatsktskassheshakesherhead.“I’vebeenaroundmybrotherlongenoughto knowthatthere’sopticstoconsiderineverypartofwhatyoudoonceyou’replayingatacertainlevel,Jake.Butyouwentand datedasportsreporterandthenyoubrokeupwithherinpublic?Ohhhh,pooryou She’sgonnawantrevengeforsure”
“You’renothelping,”ImutterasIstarttostretchmyotherleg.Butshe’sgotapoint.
“Sorry I’lldropit NomoreGretaspeak We’llcallherVoldemort,okay?”
ThiswomanhasdroppedaHarryPotterreferenceandI’mhereforit.“Deal.” Riley, whose arms had beencrossed tightlyinfront of her, lets themdrop to her side Turningat the waist, she points behindhertothecoffeecart.“Wanttohaveacoffeewithme?Mytreat.”
Ilookatthecart,thenbacktoRiley.Icouldsayno.Goonmyway,keeprunning,andthengototherinktopracticelikeI wasplanning Icoulddothatandthengobacktothinkingaboutmymistakes,thechoicesI’vemade,andwhereI’matnowand probablycontinuetobeatmyselfupsomemore.I’llendupbackathome,well,Riley’shomeinheroldbedroom,holdingmy dogandwonderingwhereIwentwrong SoofcourseI’mgoingtosayyes “Loveto.”Iholdmyhandout.“Leadtheway.”
As we approach the cart, the older man running it appears in the window with a huge grin sweeping across his face, showingallofhisteeth.
“Riley.You’restillhere?”
