The cab arrives, and we load our bags and drive to the airport. The flight home is smooth. Jasmine falls asleep against my shoulder ten minutes after takeoff. Her hand rests on my thigh. Her breathing is slow and deep.
I look out the window at the coastline disappearing below us. Maine shrinks to a thin line of green and gray between the ocean and the clouds. The house is down there somewhere, empty now, locked up, waiting for us to come back.
We're going home. Soon, I’ll take Jasmine to my parents' house for dinner. I'm going to sit at that table and tell my parentsthat the woman beside me is the woman I love and that their approval, while welcome, is not required.
My father wrote a five-year plan in a notebook when I was eighteen. Relationships can wait, he wrote.
He was wrong.
19
Jasmine
Harper drops the idea in the group chat on Monday.
Girls trip to Toronto. The guys play the Wailers on Friday. We fly up Thursday, game Friday, home Saturday. The boys already booked us first-class tickets. Who's in?
Avery responds in four seconds:I'm packing already.
Natalie: Ethan just told me. I'm in.
Olivia: I can't. Maya has a doctor's appointment Friday morning. Have the best time and send me photos of everything.
I stare at my phone. I've traveled for work dozens of times but I've never flown to another country to watch a man play hockey. This is new territory. But the idea is exciting.
I type back:Count me in.
Harper sends back a string of champagne glass emojis, Avery sends a Canadian flag and Natalie sends a heart.
I check my calendar. Thursday and Friday are clear of client meetings. The Renegades account gives me flexibility that my other work doesn’t. Mabel approved travel to away games months ago as part of the sponsorship visibility review.
Technically I'm attending the Toronto game to assess the Renegades' brand presence in a Canadian market. I email Mabel's assistant and log the trip as a client site visit. Then I call Clara into my office.
“I need you to cover my Thursday afternoon meeting with the Tier 2 partners.”
“Where are you going?”
“Toronto. For the Renegades game.”
“For the Renegades game or for the Renegades defenseman?”
“For the account, Clara.”
“I'll cover your meeting. Bring me back a souvenir. And have fun with Logan,” she says with a grin, then grows serious. “You deserve all the happiness, Jaz.”
I grin back at her. “Thanks.”
On Thursday afternoon, we meet at the first-class lounge at LaGuardia. Harper is already there when I arrive, tucked into a leather chair with her carry-on at her feet and a glass of champagne in her hand.
“Cole called the airline and got us into the lounge,” she says.
Avery arrives next, pulling a carry-on that's twice the size of mine. Natalie follows five minutes later, slightly out of breath, apologizing about the traffic from her and Ethan’s home.
We settle into the lounge chairs, and Harper orders champagne for everyone. Our flight leaves in ninety minutes.
“When was the last time we did this?” Avery asks. “Just the four of us, going somewhere that isn't a local team event or a charity gala?”
“Never,” Harper says. “This is a first.”
