Chapter 1
POV: CHARLIE
I managed to grab the phone by the third ring, catching a haphazard tower of cardboard boxes stacked in the narrow hallway before it fell. I rested my arm across the top with an exhausted sigh, running the fingers of my other hand through my still damp hair as I answered.
“Hey, Pop,” I said, wedging the phone between my chin and shoulder as I stepped into the living room and started rummaging through the couch cushions. “Don’t suppose you have any idea where I might have put my cahkeys last night, would you?”
“What am I? Psychic?” my dad replied, his gravelled accent bringing a smile to my face. “Sounds like you got in pretty late, kiddo. You manage to get any sleep?”
I swore, tripping over a duffel bag as I hurried into the kitchen. I put the call on speaker as I tossed a half-empty pizza box toward the trashcan and continued to search for my keys.
“Not really,” I said, digging through my bag for the second time to see if they’d somehow magically appeared. “Got in about one in the morning and stayed up until four or five unpacking the cah. Think I fell into bed around five-thirty.”
Fuck, was that only two hours ago? God, I need some fucking coffee. Maybe there’s a Dunks on the way to the arena. Do they even have those down here? Fuck, I didn’t even think to look.
I groaned, rubbing a hand across my face before staring at the mess of moving boxes and willing my keys to appear. They didn’t.
“How’s it going up there?” I asked. “You resting like the doctor ordered, right?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he mused. “Between you and Joanie, I can’t do anything. You know she took away the salt? The salt, Charlie! Said it’s bad for…”
I let my head fall back, only half-listening as I closed my eyes.
I’d been riding the high of landing a two-year contract with my dream job for the last forty-eight hours, but somewhere between the myriad of gas stations and seemingly endless, sun-scorched Texas highway, I’d started to lose steam.
I was running on fumes and the fevered, anxiety-fueled energy of a first day on the job, but that was only going to carry me so far. Nowhere, actually if I couldn’t find my fucking keys.
“She’s not making this shit up, Pop. She’s a nurse,” I huffed, rolling my eyes as I caught the tail end of my dad complaining about my sister’s strict adherence to his post-procedure protocol.
“It’s bullshit is what it is, Charlie,” he retorted. “You know she made me eat kale like I’m some fucking rabbit. And she put away the beer until the season starts. Recovery phase or some shit, and that’s not even the worst part.”
The nerve above my right eye started to twitch as he continued his rant, griping about how she’d put a limit on his daily coffee intake. I pressed the heel of my palm against it and counted to ten.
Ugh, Joanie is a goddamn saint. I don’t know how she manages. I sighed, feeling both guilt-ridden and a little relieved that I’d had to leave our recovering father in my older sister’s care. It’s not like she doesn’t already have enough on her plate.
“I’m telling ya, a man can’t live like this, Charlie,” he said. “Besides, it was just a little heart attack. People have those all the time.”
“Pop, it wasn’t just a little heart attack,” I replied, shifting a crate of dishes aside and wondering if I could just Google how to hot wire my Honda. “You nearly died.”
My throat tightened at the memory, and I shivered as it’s ghost slithered through me.
The worst part hadn’t been getting the call to tell me my dad was in the hospital or the panicked drive to the ER at Boston Medical Center not knowing what was waiting for me when I burst through those double doors. It had been the sight of him in that hospital bed that had nearly ripped my heart from my chest.
Watching my indomitable father fight for every breath, I remember being convinced that couldn’t possibly be him. The Quinn Campbell that had raised me couldn’t be this weak old man. It wasn’t until Joanie had wrapped her arms around me that I realized his six-foot-three frame counted for nothing in this moment.
I shook my head to clear the specter of the past. Pop was here now. That was all that mattered.
“I know you don’t like it, Pop, but this is the way it is now. Both Joanie and I want you around for a long-ass time, so you’re going to do whatever the doctor orders,” I said in the same tone he’d used countless times on my sister and I during our teenage years. “And be nice to her. She’s got a lot of shit going on right now.”
“Don’t worry, kiddo. I’m not planning on going anywhere any time soon.” He sighed. “Your poor sister. That fucking deadbeat she married kicked her and the kids out. Did she tell you that? Already got that bimbo he was seeing behind her back all moved in and everything. They’re not even officially divorced yet. I should go over there and throw them both out with the trash where they fucking belong.”
I spied the glint of something metal beneath some crumpled newspapers, tossing them aside with a triumphant shout as I grabbed my keys and bolted for the door. I barely paused to lock it before sprintingtoward the stairs.
“I doubt beating Joey’s ass counts as resting, Pop,” I said dryly as I raced down to the parking garage. “She’s already called her lawyer about it. He said if Joanie bought the house before they got married, which I’m pretty sure she did, dick head has no claim to it. He’s already filed a suit against him for illegal possession of property or something like that. We’ll get them back home soon, but for now she’s where she needs to be, keeping an eye on you.”
“What did she ever see in that guy? I told her not to marry him. I mean, he’s from fucking Revere. Come on,” he snorted derisively. “She and the kids deserved so much better.”
“We all make mistakes, Pop,” I panted as I burst through the stairwell door, the oppressive Texas heat and humidity smacking me in the face as I ran down the row to my spot. “And she’s in the process of divorcing him, so give her some credit.”
“True,” he conceded. “What are you doing, kiddo? Sounds like you’re runnin’ the marathon.”
“I’m late. Couldn’t find my keys,” I said as I hit the unlock button and jumped behind the wheel of my Honda, cranking the engine and turning the AC down as low as it could possibly go.
“So, you don’t even get a day to settle in? I didn’t think the season started for another few weeks.”
“It doesn’t,” I replied, whipping out of my parking space and throwing it into drive. “But training camp starts Wednesday and then pre-season begins. I need to be able to hit the ground running as soon as possible. And I hear the head coach is arriving today, so I really want to make a good impression.”
“With your temperament, that’s probably not a bad idea,” he chuckled.
“Fuck you,” I said playfully, smiling in spite of myself.
“Hey, how’s the weather down there anyway? Seen any long horns or cowboys yet?”
I laughed, shaking my head. My dad had never ventured far beyond the city limits, still living just a few doors down from the triple decker he grew up in. Everything he needed was right there in Southie. Why would he ever leave?
“Pop, it’s Austin, not a dude ranch,” I said, leaning out the window to wave my parking badge at the scanner. “I don’t think cowboys ride through the streets roping cattle.”
“Isn’t that supposed to be their whole thing?” he chuckled, growing quiet for a moment. “God, I hate that you’re so far away, kiddo. Who’s going to watch the Bruins with me this year?”
I smiled, pulling into traffic and following my Google maps toward the newly constructed arena. The Austin skyline stretched out in front of me, already wrapped in the wispy haze of heat even though the sun had only risen a little while ago. I didn’t even glance at the temperature read out on my dash, already knowing I wasn’t going to like the digits.
The streets were already alive with the hum of traffic the waters of the Colorado River sparking off to my right as I followed the signs for I-35,
This job was supposed to be a two-year contract, just enough time to get my foot in the door and hopefully get called up to the NHL where I could really make a name for myself. I’d worked my ass off to get here, hours of unpaid internships, waiting tables to cover lab fees, and enough all-nighters to warrant my excessive caffeine addiction.
Now that I was here though, I felt a pang of guilt, like I was being selfish for wanting this. For leaving my family behind when they needed me.
No. Don’t think like that. This is for them as much as it’s for me. I’m going to make this work, even if it kills me.
The traffic light ahead turned yellow, but I gunned through it through the intersection anyway, ignoring the irritated honking.
“What about Reagan and Finley?” I asked. “Can’t they watch with you when they finish homework or whatever?”
“We’re still in trouble from the last game we watched together,” he joked. “I thought your sister was ready to shit a brick when Reagan shouted ‘take the fucking shot already, you fucking meathead!’ Practically choked on my beer. I mean, Joanie should be at least a little proud she used it correctly, right?”
I snorted. My sister had tried her best, but my niece had the mouth of a sailor when her mom wasn’t around. In hindsight, I’d probably contributed more than a bit to Reagan’s colorfully explicit vocabulary. My road rage was legendary, and Pop wasn’t much better, though he’d claim he was.
At least Joanie can say they came by it honestly.
As if to illustrate my point, a huge, blue pickup truck swerved into my lane, and I leaned heavily on the horn and rolled down my window as I flew pass him.
“Watch where you’re fucking going, you fucking moron!” I shouted as I flipped off.
“Now, I know where Reagan picked it up,” my dad laughed.
“Hey! You’re just as bad as I am,” I said defensively, the ache for home settling in my stomach as I took the on ramp. “Listen, Pop, I know this sucks. God knows I’d rather be back home, making sure you’re okay and kicking the shit out of Joanie’s ex, but this is a huge opportunity. These new teams get a lot of attention, and it’s a really big step for my career. And it’s not permanent. A couple of years here, and then I could move up to the NHL. That’s the plan, remember?”
“I know, kiddo,” he mumbled. “Just don’t be so focused on the future that you forget to enjoy where you are, okay? I mean, you’re in the AHL. That’s huge.”
“It’s not the NHL though,” I sighed. “That’s the dream.”
“It’s not nothing though, Charlie,” he chided. “You don’t have to have everything figured out right now. Some of the best things in life are unexpected.”
I smiled, that pining for anything familiar growing a little sharper. “Breaking out one of Mom’s lines on me, huh?”
“She was a smart woman, your mom.” A moment of silence stretched between us before he finally cleared his throat. “Anyway, I better let you go. Hey, send me a ten-gallon hat when you get a chance.”
I laughed. “The boys down at the pub will fucking love that.”
“What is it Reagan says? ‘It slays, Pop-Pop,’” he said, mimicking his granddaughter’s pre-adolescent tone.
“Oh my god,” I giggled as I merged onto the expressway. “I’ll find you one tomorrow if you promise to never do that again.”
“What? I thought it was pretty good,” he replied with a chuckle. “Tell Mackie I said hi, okay, kiddo?.”
“Will do. Love you.”
