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CHAPTERONE
stone
Ilook out the window at the city below us. “Flight attendants,” the captain announces on the speaker, “thirty minutes until landing.”
“Are you done with that?” I look over at the flight attendant, her finger pointing at the glass of water on my tray table.
“I am.” I hand her the almost empty glass. “Thank you.” She nods at me as she moves along to the person behind me. After putting my tray table up, I look back out the window at the city bustling below me. Leaning back in the seat, I watch as the city comes closer and closer before the plane jerks as we land. Pulling my phone out of the pocket in front of me, I turn it off Airplane Mode. The captain comes on the speaker. “Welcome to Dallas.” He continues to tell us what the local time is and all that stuff. The phone vibrates in my hand, and I see a text coming in from my cousin Christopher.
Christopher: What time do you land?
He sent the text about an hour ago.
Me: Just landed, on my way to the gate. You?
Christopher: An hour ago. When you said let’s surprise them together, you didn’t mention you would be arriving an hour after me.
I laugh at his message, shaking my head.
Me: I told you my flight number. It’s not my fault you didn’t look it up.
Christopher: You’re a dick.
Me: See you soon. I think it said gate 83, but I’m not sure. I could have misheard.
Christopher: I’ll meet you at baggage claim. I’m the one holding up the Welcome Back from Prison sign.
I’m about to answer him when the ping for the seat belt light turning off sounds, and everyone stands. I get out of my seat and turn to open the overhead bin to grab my black duffel bag, waiting for the door to be opened. The phone vibrates in my hand again, and this time when I look down, I see it’s my sister, Zoey. She’s named after my aunt Zoe, but my parents added a Y. When she was young, everyone used to call her Zoey with a Y, so that’s how she’s stored in my phone.
Zoey with a Y: Remind me never to travel with Mom and Dad again.
Me: Why?
Zoey with a Y: I caught them making out when I went to the bathroom. It looked like he was going to jump her. I threw up a little in my mouth.
Me: He always looks like he’s going to jump her.
Zoey with a Y: You aren’t helping. I need to pour tequila in my eyeballs.
I’m about to answer her when the sound of the door opening makes me look up. The two people in front of me move to disembark the plane. “Thank you.” I nod at the two flight attendants who smile at me before walking out and feel the heat hit me right away. My white T-shirt sticks to my body as I make my way down the gray carpet toward the gate. As soon as I step into the terminal, an announcement is made about some flight as I look right to left and see the Baggage Claim sign.
Besides New York, I’ve been to this airport the most in the past couple of years. It’s probably because the family is spread out in two places: New York, where I was born and raised. My uncle Matthew played for New York and then became the GM. His first big deal was acquiring my father from Dallas. The deal was easy, especially for my father, who fell in love with my mother, Uncle Matthew’s younger sister. Their love story is one for the books, really. I’m reminded of it every single time I walk into our family home because it’s framed on the wall in the middle with our family pictures around it. They didn’t meet in the conventional way people meet. Nope, not with my mother. My mother decided to tweet him to crash her ex’s wedding, following up with hashtags that will forever be ingrained in my brain; #myexhasapencildick was my favorite.
He was traded to New York, and that’s where he retired. I lived there until I was sixteen years old, when I was drafted to the Ontario Hockey League. Moving from my home to Canada was definitely something I wanted but actually having it happen, and then being away from them, was a tough time. I want to say it didn’t show on the ice, but I would also be lying. My game suffered, but not that much. The scouts still noticed me, but that had to do with my name and the dynasty surrounding it. Not only was my father top dog but it also didn’t hurt that my grandfather was the best thing that happened to the sport. He held all the top records—well, most of them. My cousin Dylan was giving him a run for his money. Needless to say, I finally got my groove back the year after, and I was drafted to Las Vegas. I opted to go back to school instead of going straight to the NHL. I attended the camp, and even though they were ready for me, I wasn’t ready. Luckily, I had everyone’s support until the year later when they traded me to Nashville. It was the name of the game. I’ve seen a couple of family members being traded over the years, so I knew it was always a possibility. I’ve been with Nashville for the past six years, and I have two more years left on my contract.
I spot Christopher looking down at his phone while I walk down the stairs toward him. “Where is my sign?” I question, and he looks up at me and glares.
“I’ve been waiting an hour for you,” he huffs before he pushes on my shoulder.
“Ouch, that hurt,” I joke with him. “Have you been hitting the gym?”
“Don’t even,” he sneers at me. “Now let’s get the car.”
“You had an hour,” I mumble, walking out with him. We’re dressed almost the same in jeans, a T-shirt, and, of course, the staple we always wear, our baseball hats backward. We walk toward the corner, and I look up. “What are we doing?”
“We have to take a shuttle bus,” he grumbles, looking at his watch. “They come every ten to fifteen minutes.” I clear my throat, trying not to laugh out loud as he hisses.
“How about I rent the car, my treat?” I offer, and his head snaps up. “I’ll even put you down as a co-driver.”
