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Wander and Lust (Travel anthology)
About 3rd and Goal
After a night of passion with her three best friends and football players, she ran, severing all contact. Six years later, after a chance meeting, those feelings are still there. But this time, they won’t let her go. This time they’re playing to win.
Chapter 1
Becca
“Becca, Nan had a stroke.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose as my mother’s words continued to rush over me, leaving me filled with dread. The last thing I needed was a family emergency that required my presence in Voyageur Bay during the summer. It wasn’t like I never went home—I did, for a month every October. I just never went home during the spring or summer. Ever. Even though they were usually back at training camp by the end of July.
“Everyone’s coming home. She needs all of us, Becca.”
Crapitty-crap-on-a-cracker. I hated when my mother used that tone of voice. The one that invoked guilt and shame over your actions without her even mentioning them. That tone was the reason why I went on a few dates with Caleb Bishop in high school—my mother wanted me to marry a future doctor even though I had no romantic feelings for Caleb whatsoever. It was why I took that stupid art class in high school even though I couldn’t draw a straight line with the help of a ruler. “You can’t just take all those science classes, Becca. Boys like girls who have a wide range of interests.” Although that one backfired on her since I ended up dating Jason who, while liked by everyone, was considered a “bad boy” by most parents in Voyageur Bay. Not because he was into drugs or crime, but because he chose to be open about his sexual preferences when Voyageur Bay—at least on the surface—was still strictly a two-person, monogamous, heterosexual, God-fearing town. The muscular, tatted-up, openly bisexual teenager was an affront to all they held dear.
Knowing I didn’t stand a chance of getting out of this trip, I gave in. “Fine, Mom. I’ll let my work know that I need some time off. Although I may have to work while I’m there.”
“That’s fine. Just so long as you are here.” And with that, she hung up on me.
I stared at my phone for a moment before I dropped my head onto my desk, not caring that I was smearing make-up over the printout of the budget projections I was reviewing. “Should have never climbed out of my bed.”
“What was that, Rebecca?”
“Oh, Mr. Yang.” I sat up abruptly, running my fingertips under my eyes to clean any smudges. “I didn’t see you there.”
“That’s quite okay. I just stopped by to see if you’d made any headway with the budget projections for the new project. We have a division meeting next week, and I need to have all the section budgets before then.”
The timeline posed problems, but I’d figure it out. I could work on the flight instead of fortifying myself with alcohol before I arrived home. Actually, with everyone rushing home, chances are I’d have to rent a car to make the two-hour drive which meant I couldn’t drink anyway. “I can have it to you sometime tomorrow, but I’m also going to need some emergency leave. My mom called, and I’m needed at home. But I can keep in touch with the office and do my work from there like I normally do in October.”
“No problem. Can your team handle themselves?”
“Yes. Josie can monitor the day-to-day of getting the project off the ground. I was going to push her into the role anyway.” I shrugged. “This way, she won’t have me breathing down her neck. And it will stop her from deferring to me.”
“If you think she’s ready…?”
“I’m sure.”
“Well then. When do you leave?”
“As soon as I can get a flight and get everything organized here.”
He rapped on my door jamb. As a section leader—similar to a department head in other organizations—I rated my own office. “Keep in touch. And Rebecca, I hope things get better for your family soon.”
“Thanks,” I said to his back as he walked away.
With a few swipes of the keyboard, I found a flight leaving Toronto that evening for Winnipeg. I sprung for a first-class seat so that I could work with ease and even have a drink or two as soon as we were in the air. With the length of the flight to Winnipeg, I’d unfortunately be stone-cold sober upon arrival.
Laptop, budget, print-outs of the timeline, and the binder containing my copies of all the projects under my watch went into my expandable briefcase. The other copies I piled on the desk. With a last look around, I grabbed my purse, put my arm through the shoulder strap of my briefcase—groaning when I felt the weight of it on my shoulder—and lifted the fourteen-inch stack of binders into my arms. Without further ado, knowing that I couldn’t stop the oncoming speeding train, I left my office to hand out the assignments and let the various project heads know that I’d be available by text, email, and for online meetings.
It went quick; my staff were more than capable of handling my unexpected leave. And before I knew it, I walked the dedicated security line for those in first class, bypassing the massive line of those waiting. Without that ticket, I shuddered to think how long it would take to get through the security checkpoint. As it was, I’d be lucky to have the time to grab a drink at the bar before the plane boarded.
“Laptops out and turned on,” the man standing on the other side of the counter said in a bored voice, not even realizing that I already had my two laptops in my hand ready to be placed in their individual bins. I wasn’t a stranger to flying. Even though I only went home once a year, I traveled frequently for work and for pleasure. It was one of the reasons why the people on my team at work knew how to operate when I wasn’t physically in the building.
The last mouthful of my Long Island iced tea slid down my throat as they called for my flight. “Thanks. That was the best,” I told the bartender as I gave him a wave.
“Have a great time visiting home.”
