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Evan must’ve gotten one of those.
In response, he hits a button and the opening theme to our podcast plays, and the little light above my camera turns white, showing that I’m on the primary feed.
“Good evening, everybody, and welcome to another episode ofTwo Men And A Mic. Here we offer nothing but advice, encouragement, and the simple truth. I’m Chance Harrington, and with me, as always, is my best friend, Evan White.”
An hour flies by with Evan and me bantering back and forth, and before I know it, Evan is doing our sign-off and turning off the live feed.
The stillness when the show ends is always a bit jarring. It’s like the lack of talking is so loud, almost roaring in my ears, and my whole body feels on-edge like I could take on the world.
“Great show, man,” I tell Evan.
He leans back in his chair, hands behind his head with his elbows spread wide, and grins. “Yeah, I’m pretty good like that,” he agrees.
I chuckle at his teasing brag as I grab my phone. We have a hard and fast rule that we keep phones silent and out of sight while we’re on-air, so I’m not surprised that I have a bunch of notifications. But the texts from my brother, Carter, do surprise me.
You available tonight? Got something to show you, but Luna and I are taking Gracie ice skating. Swing by the rink around 7?
There are two more with the same basic message. Guess he didn’t bother to tune in to the live show today, not that he ever does. Or the on-demand versions later. I don’t think Carter’s ever listened to one of my podcasts, or if he has, he’s never mentioned it. And he would, if only to tell me what I could’ve done better.
Carter’s my older brother, not quite the golden child of the family since that would be Cameron. But Carter’s definitely the silver child, and though I’m third in line of our siblings, I’m not the bronze. That honor falls to my sister, Kayla. Then tied for no medals, there’s Kyle, the black sheep, Cole, the vanisher, and me, the dismissed.
Yeah. See you at 7.
I send the reply, not expecting anything further. Whatever Carter wants, he’s probably already made the assumption that I’ll be there. He’s used to people jumping whenever he says to, even if I’m not one of those people. But he threw out the bait he knows I can’t refuse—my niece, Gracie, and Carter’s wife, Luna. Our whole family protectively rallies around Gracie at all times, ever since Cameron lost his wife, but it’s admittedly a bit like playing hot potato because she’s with a different family member nearly every day. And Luna has my brother wrapped around her pinky finger, which is hilarious to watch because I never would’ve put the two of them together, but they make an odd but cute couple.
* * *
Walking through the front doors, I’m immediately hit with a blast of cold air. The Westlake Warriors aren’t the best youth ice hockey program in the state, but they’ve got a nice facility with a bright, clean entrance area that’s separated from the ice by thick Plexiglass, and cream-colored tile is on the floor before you get to the skates area.
Glancing over, the ice is busy, but not so crowded that you can’t move, except along the boards in a packed oval. In fact...
“Hey!” a familiar voice calls out. “Uncle Chance!”
A smile breaks out on my face, and whatever Carter’s got planned fades away as my niece comes clumping across the rubber matted area of the lobby, barely staying upright in her ice skates. I meet her more than halfway to gather her up into my arms. “Ooof, you’re getting big, baby girl!” I say as I shake her around until she giggles. “How’d you get so tall when I just saw you a couple of days ago? You must’ve grown three inches at least!”
“It’s my skates, silly!” Gracie says, grinning.
I feign complete surprise and confusion and grab her leg, holding it up to stare at her ice skate as though I’ve never seen such a marvelous invention. “This? They make you taller?”
Shaking her head, she laughs hard. “No, they make me skate like an ice princess,” she explains with a tilt of her head, looking at me like I’m completely stupid.
“Ah, mm-hmm. I see,” I say in my best mad scientist impression.
“You’re my favorite uncle,” she whispers.
“Heard that, young lady,” Carter says behind me.
Gracie’s eyes go wide. “Oopsie! I meant you’re all my favorite uncles, and I’m your favorite girl, right?” She might as well be batting her lashes at Carter, but the best part is that if he doesn’t agree, she’ll flip the script to threatening to take out his kneecaps. Gracie’s learning from the best of the best and is skilled at knowing when to charm, when to threaten, and when to cut your losses.
“I think she should be a lawyer,” I note to Carter, who nods agreeably.
“Or a politician,” he adds out of the side of his mouth where only I can hear him. “Gracie, can you go check on Luna for me? She’s not the best skater and could probably use a little cheerleader hype from my favoritest ever girl.”
Gracie beams, proud at the assignment and the title Carter bestows, and clomps off to do his bidding.
“Well played,” I praise.
Carter glares at me, one brow lifted in a ‘shut the fuck up’ move. “Come on, Zack’s here too.”
