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“Jealous?” I teased.
“You were mine first,” he lamented with a theatrical whine as we turned towards the locker rooms.
Looping our arms together with a grin, I assured, “And forever shall be.”
“Don’t you fucking forget it. Okay, shower, brunch, Jenna—what’s next on our calendar?”
“Touring that building downtown to see if it’s a good fit for the school.”
“I still think it should be virtual.”
“Of course you do,” I said, rolling my eyes. Max practically ran a cyber security firm called Jorogumo Defense; his computer was more of an appendage than an autonomous tool. “Not all of us speak in code, Maxi.”
“You could if you slowed down long enough to listen to me.”
“That would require one fewer shot of espresso in my morning oat milk latte, and that just ain’t gonna happen.”
“At least you’re a cute little energizer bunny.” His words made me smirk, and I shook my head. “Aren’t you lucky you have me?”
“Obviously,” I said as we split ways to gather our things and slink into fleece lined coats to fight off the frigid air. Reunited, Max pushed open the front door of the gym and I winced as the brisk Chicago air bit at my skin, the promise of the season’s first snow an abrasive greeting. The fact that Max dictated his schedule and loved sightseeing enough to meet me all over the country would never get old.
Sometimes, it was for weeks at a time, others were just for lunch, or a night on the town, but his arrival always brought a little piece of Mistyvale with him, and I clung to it like a buoy. This stop had been particularly fun, as we got to watch one of my younger brothers, Paxton, play football, facing off with his rival as he quarterbacked the way to victory for the Windy City Wolves.
Having a literal dozen of us scattered over the country was brutal, but there was something fun about having someone to visit and cheer for everywhere I wandered.
Chicago promised me not one, but three speaking engagements this week, and now we’d be parting ways, which always put a lump in my throat. Max was heading home to Alaska, and I was bound for Vegas for the summit. Anticipatory nerves twisted in my belly as the clock ticked down inside my subconscious. It was almost go-time, and I was beyond prepared. But for today, I needed to soak up my limited hours with my best friend and little brother. We likely wouldn’t cross paths again until after the holidays, and I loathed the perpetual distance.
“I still say it’s too damn cold here. The Windy City,” he scoffed, tightening his black jacket against the frigid air.
“As though that’s any less appealing than Mistyvale,” I countered. Our little Alaskan island lived up to its name, shrouded in a perpetual state of slate gray over the climb of spruce covered mountains. Nevertheless, none of us could help but wander back in a steady rotation. “Besides, Chicago needs a program like this. With poverty rates at an all-time high, the best thing I could do is empower women to close the income gap for themselves. They just need the right resources.”
Wrinkling his nose, Max said, “Fine. But if you land here, I’m appointing you a bodyguard. Murder rates are ridiculous, Elly.”
I laughed, but when he just glared at me, my mouth popped open. How much money did the man make at that tech firm, anyway? “You can’t be serious.”
“As a diabetic in a shaved ice parlor.”
“You’re worse than Jameson.”
“I learned it somewhere,” he snickered. I was close with all my siblings, but some had more helicopter tendencies than others. Jameson was certainly in that category. “Alright, food, conquer meetings, tour your bodyguard’s future haunt. Got it.”
“El, you’re looking at some major renovations here,” Paxton noted that evening as we toured my potential school. Like me, that wasn’t necessarily a deterrent so much as a statement of fact. We Rhodes were raised with a ‘how can I’ attitude, not a ‘can I’ handicap. “You’re going to need at least a million just for the building.”
“Which is why we’re applying for more than one grant,” Mara reminded him with just as much enthusiasm as I had through the phone screen as I rotated her angle to see the entire width of the room. “Oooh! Those windows!” she gushed.
Paxton had been the first of my siblings to pledge a chunk of cash towards our school under the condition that he was a silent investor, and we didn’t publicize his involvement. The press was savage, and always looking to poke holes in the personal lives of anyone successful, star quarterbacks included. If a pissed off reporter didn’t get the interview they wanted with Chicago’s heartthrob, it wouldn’t take them long to turn their irritation on the project in a petty attempt at revenge. I didn’t like it, but if Pax felt like that would protect our mission, so be it.
“We’re gonna need a few more,” he grumbled, snapping a piece of rotted trim off the doorframe with his bare thumb. I winced.
“Okay, and maybe we’re still hunting for a better location,” I agreed. “I don’t want the entire grant going to structural stability. I’d like a portion left over for salaries and equipment.”
“A different location, like somewhere sunny?” Max asked hopefully as he used the rubber eraser on his pencil to poke at water damaged drywall.
“I can’t say I’d be mad about another reason to visit Florida,” Pax noted, careful to keep his tone neutral and shifting back to look at me as he slowly sipped his black coffee. He’d already been down to visit our big brother, Rhyett, and his wife in Tampa at least half a dozen times since our niece was born.
Most of my brothers looked very much alike—the same easily tanned skin, those trademark gray eyes, and varying shades of loose brunette curls—save for Rhyett and Axel, who somehow ended up blond. Paxton had always been one of the more agreeable of my brothers, with a high willingness to take part in shenanigans and a higher tolerance for being doled out roles that came with pain. His years playing in the NFL had wracked his tall frame with muscle that I would very much be needing if we were going to accomplish this restoration during his off season. He had one more year on his contract with the Wolves, and then nobody knew where he’d end up. I couldn’t picture him giving up his career at thirty, but it seemed to be the norm for the industry—bow out before his body forced the decision. Running a broad palm over his neatly styled short hair, he tongued over a canine, eyes scouring the room I was already envisioning as a lecture hall with its gorgeous, high stretching metal framed windows, and exposed brick wall dividing it from the neighboring space.
So what if there was a little water damage, and a whole lotta drywall damage? That’s literally what renovations were for. The natural light would keep it cheery year around, even through the dreary months of back-to-back blizzards. The acoustics were perfect, and if the crew could restore the hardwood floors, it would be magical.
