Page 91 of In Your Wake

“Are you thinking about taking the offer?”

“Not sure. I don’t know if I want to.”

“Then don’t.”

“Easy for you to say,” I scoff. Logan walked away from the league with two Cup wins, endorsement deals, and enough money to spend the rest of his life bathing in the maple syrup produced on his family’s maple grove. “I wish I were you, and could spend my time organizing spice racks, but I need to do something,” I mutter.

“Funny you say that. I was thinking…” he begins in a tone that never leads to anything good. Usually, it means he has an idea and Logan’s ideas have ranged from mildly risky to catastrophically stupid.

“What’s up?” I ask cautiously.

“Okay, ‘ear me out,” he says. I can practically hear him grinning through the phone. “We should start a podcast.”

I don’t hesitate. “No.”

“You didn’t even think about it.”

“I don’t need to. The answer’s no.”

“Why not?”

“Because podcasts are for guys named Brent who wear tight jeans and talk about manscaping.”

“When’s the last time you listened to a podcast?” he asks, laughing.

“It’s been a while.” I’ve never actually listened to one, to tell the truth, only seen some while doom-scrolling on TikTok. “Anyway, do I strike you as the sort of guy who sits around discussing my feelings for the whole world to hear?”

Logan cackles. “That’s exactly why it would work.”

Exhausted, I shake my head and stifle a yawn. Caring for Dad has been a constant source of anxiety, with each coughing spell making me fear it’s his last one. I’m not sure I can handle Logan’s pitch right now.

“What are you talking about?”

“Mitch, come on. You remember the road trips?”

“Unfortunately.”

“And the arguments we used to have?”

I groan in response.

“People love that shit.”

That part, annoyingly, is true. Me and Logan used to argue in and out of the locker rooms. So much so that it basically became a team pastime. Hockey strategy, coaching decisions, questionable plays, and ref calls—it didn’t matter. We’d start talking, debating, and eventually half the team would gather around like it was pay-per-view television.

I never gave much thought to how fun it was… until now.

“Remember our Roy versus Brodeur fight?” Logan asks. “Man, you yelled at me for over twenty minutes straight because I said Roy was the best.”

“Because you were wrong. Brodeur is the best.”

“You see? This is what they want! Natural chemistry!”

“It’s called disagreement.”

“People love disagreement.”

The rain pounds harder against the porch roof while I stare out at the dark trees, but Logan keeps going, relentless.