Page 27 of Bountiful
“Bummer.”
It really was. The guys still liked to hassle me about how many nights I’d disappeared that summer to spend with Zara. If they knew I’d gone straight to The Mountain Goat last night looking for her, they’d laugh theirassesoff.
But Zara hadn’t been at the Goat last night. I’d walked in to find some younger kid tending bar. And when I’d asked if she still lived upstairs, he’d said it was his place now. “Ask her uncle, the owner,” was hissuggestion.
Now there was an awkward conversation.Two years ago, your niece and I liked to get together for sex. Could I get hernumber?
Leo fiddled with the radio, since we were losing the station. That always happened in Vermont because mountains blocked radio signals. The cell phone service was spotty, too. And Ilovedthat about Vermont. You had to unplug up here. There was really nochoice.
This year I’d taken control of the unofficial team getaway, and I’d be the only one staying up here the whole time. Quite a few of my teammates—Leo included—had gotten coupled up these past two years, and they wanted to vacation alone with their wives and families. Leo had just come back from his honeymoon,infact.
I didn’t have a wife or family, and never would. So I’d set myself up as the organizer of this trip. I’d rented the cabin in my own name, and my plan was to hike and fish with whichever teammatesshowedup.
Yesterday afternoon I’d opened up the cabin myself. Then I’d gone shopping for some groceries and taken myself out for a beer at The Mountain Goat. This morning I’d gotten out early for a little hike to a waterfall where I ate a takeout lunch beside the rushing water. Then I’d driven to Burlington to see a new physical therapist who would work on my shoulder this summer. That was the deal I’d made with the team—that I’d keep up mytherapy.
After that, I’d gone to the little Burlington airport to grab Leo. Two more of our teammates were driving up together tonight. And tomorrow’s fishing expedition was all planned out. We were going to have agreattime.
“Hey, how is that place?” Leo asked suddenly, as the road curved to show us the WinooskiRiver.
I looked up to see a couple of roadside businesses that hadn’t been there two years ago. “Actually, that’s new.” There was a big new bar called The Gin Mill. And—also useful—a coffee shop called TheBusyBean.
“Can we stop?” Leo asked. “I could use a little somethin’something.”
“Sure.” I braked and turned into the gravel parking lot. Pulling up to an empty spot between the bar and the coffee place, I killed the engine. When I got out of the car, I groaned at the stiffness inmylegs.
“Everything okay over there, old man?” Treviteasedme.
“I’m good,” I said quickly. I used to be like Leo, who had no idea what achy joints felt like. At thirty-two, after two decades of massive athletic endeavors, my body didn’t always behave like I wanted it to. I grabbed my phone and peeked at the reception. Four bars—almost unprecedented in Vermont. “You go ahead inside, I gottacallBess.”
“Give her my love.” Leo shut thecardoor.
“I will.” Although Leo was agented by someone else, everyone knew my younger sister, Bess. As an agent, she was loved and feared by her clients as well as acquaintances. She had a big personality. And I owed heracall.
As Leo disappeared, I tapped her name on my phone and waited for the ring. Bess had left me three messages while I’d been hiking. I hadn’t called her back yet because I was worried about the news she’d give me, and I hadn’t wanted to spoilmyhike.
Waiting, I whistled to myself, wondering who was going to get cut off when my call came in. I knew she’d ditch whomever she was on the phone with to talk to me, for two reasons. A) I was one of her biggest clients. B) She was my littlesister.
“Davey!” she squealed. “How’s thevacay?”
“It’s great,” I told her. “You should try itsometime.”
“When? There’s always a sport in season, and some asshole athlete doing his level best to make my job moredifficult.”
“Who’s on your shit list today?” I asked,stalling.
“Michaels. That idiot got a DUI lastnight.”
“No!” I said. I didn’t follow her baseball clients at all, but the DUI would give my sis a headache. Right in the middle of theirseason,too.
“So there goes my week. But before I fly to Chicago and kick his ass, I have some numbers for you, bigbrother.”
Gulp. “Are they decent?” I was man enough to admit that I was nervous to hear what kind of contract extension the league had offered me. At thirty-two, I was getting up there in years. And during the post-season I’d had an injury that had kept me out of several crucialgames.
My team had made it all the way to the Stanley Cup finals. And then lost it in game five. While I’d watched from the seats. So that was a giantbummer.
Before my injury, my stats had been excellent. They were, however, just a hair less excellent than the last time we’d negotiated. And even if thirty-two wasn’t old for a hockey player, it was headed in thatdirection.
“Yeah, the numbers are decent,” Bess said. “But you’re going to have to think this one over. They’re offering you two years at ten million even. Or three years attwelvemil.”
