I nod and feign a smile, waiting until she’s gone before I pull out my phone and scroll through the calls I recently made. Each one is to Peyton. Each one unanswered. For all I know, she’s changed her number. There isn’t anyone I can ask though, except her. Everyone would question why, if she did, in fact, change her number, wasn’t it given to me. I have a feeling she won’t be in Beaumont for Christmas, which leaves me no choice but to dwell on the fact I screwed up big time and she’s not willing to speak to me.
Pocketing my phone, I try to focus my attention on packing. I throw a few dressy items in my bag, but most of what’s going in there are jeans and sweats. I purposely leave my suit hanging in my closet. Maybe if I don’t have it, she won’t bring up marriage again.
By the door, her three pieces of luggage sit. I try not to think I’m under packing with my one bag, but clearly I am. Dessie comes out of the bedroom with another suitcase being towed behind her.
“Are you moving in with my parents or something?”
“These are presents.”
Right, presents, for Christmas. I’ve been so caught up in my personal drama I completely forgot to buy presents.
“I picked up things for your parents, grandparents and your grandma, your sister, as well as Mack, Aubrey, Mack and Amelie.”
“Wow. I think you thought of everyone.” Except for Peyton, Elle and Quinn, but I can’t imagine she wants to buy them anything. “I suppose we should go?”
“Or we wait another half hour until the car arrives,” she suggests, laughing.
“I’ll start taking these down.”
I open the front door and use my foot to keep it open. Dessie helps pile luggage into my arms and follows me out to press the button for the elevator. “This is going to be a great trip, Noah,” she says. I nod, thankful for the high-pitched ding that sounds when the doors are about to open.
When I arrive downstairs, I set our stuff down near the doorman. “Taking a trip, Mr. Westbury?”
“Heading home for the holidays now that the season is over.”
“Ah, yes. Rough year, but the fans are confident.”
I wish I were. “Thanks. I’ll be back with the rest of our luggage. The car should be here in thirty minutes or so.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Westbury.”
Instead of the elevator, I opt for the stairs. It seems to be the only way I can get my aggression out these days since I’m not actually allowed to go boxing or tackle anyone during practice. The thought of one-on-one with Trey Miller, my left tackle, is very appealing right about now. After my shitty performance to end the season, he’d probably take me up on the opportunity to kick my ass without repercussion.
I
reach my floor with very little time to spare. Dessie is pacing the hallway with the rest of her luggage sitting outside our door. “I thought you forgot me,” she says, rushing to give me a hug.
“Are you ready?” I know she is, but the alternate thought in my head would come off very snotty and the last thing I want to deal with is a pissed off Dessie. Since she broke the news of her pregnancy, she’s done everything she can to appease me, while I’ve been a miserable jerk.
The ride to the airport is done in relative quietness. It’s barely six and pitch black outside with the exception of the decorations. We’ll arrive at my parents late, far too late for us to stay up and talk. I planned it this way. Tomorrow… well, it’s another day and one I won’t be able to dodge.
As soon as we get out of the car, someone screams out my name. I’ve been trained over the years to ignore the fans. I try with this one, but he’s relentless.
“Hey, Noah, can I get a pic?” He puts his arm around me before I can even agree to the invasion. I smile and try to step away, but he pulls out a pen and scrambles in his pocket, searching for a piece of paper for me to write on.
“Here, babe,” Dessie says, handing me a half sheet out of her oversized purse.
“Thanks,” I say before turning to the guy. “What’s your name?”
“Jeff, but can you make it to my little brother? He’s in the hospital and you’re his favorite player.”
“What’s his name?”
“Leo,” he says, giving me pause.
“Leo, huh?” I can’t say the name without smiling. I wish I had contact information for Leo back in Chicago. I could certainly use his advice right about now. “Can you FaceTime him?”
Jeff’s eyes go wide. He starts to fumble with his phone. His face lights up when his brother comes on. “Leo, you’re never going to guess who I ran into at the airport.” He angles the phone so we’re both in the screen.