I could feel his stare in the silence.
“I lied earlier,” he said deeply.
I turned my head to look up at him.
He continued, “To myself. I lied. It’s me that’s going to fall in love with you. I’ll figure this out. Somehow. You’re it for me, Elizabeth. You take your time. I’ll wait.”
His words were shocking and crazy. And, oddly, they somehow felt possible.
He gently shut my car door. In a daze, I drove the mile back to my rented A-frame cottage, to my dog, Todd, and my self-imposed loneliness.
Chapter 3
I knew hedidn’t really love me. That wasn’t possible. I’d been in love before and that crazy, wild, liberating, feeling wasn’t it. Love was steady, not reckless. Love was conscious, not senseless. Kissing Brett had been a mistake.
The hard snow and gravel crunched under the wheels of my car when I turned down my driveway. Todd’s fluffy head appeared in the living room window, his ears perked. I parked the car and turned off the ignition. The curtains fell into place when he got off the couch and headed to the front door. I could hear his happy whine as I climbed the wooden steps.
When I opened the red door and stepped into the small living area, he circled me, panting, and then went to get his squeaky toy. A small lamp in the corner shone dimly, painting the room in a golden glow.
“Do you need attention, boy? Is that it? Get your toy. Go get your toy.”
My small bedroom was to the left of the entryway. Just large enough for a queen-sized bed, a dresser, and a hanging rack. I’d removed the door because it kept hitting the side of the bed.
Coat hooks were mounted on the wall to my left. I hung my coat and bag. With one booted toe, I pushed off one boot, then pulled the other off with my hands, hopping so I wouldn’t fall over. I peeled off my socks, put them in the boots and placed them under the coatrack.
The living area to my right was quaint and cozy. Two full-sized couches sat in an L-shape before a rustic, wood burning fireplace. The exposed flue pipe ran up to the low ceiling and out the top of the A-line roof. A small television waited in the right corner. Dust had settled on the screen.
My phone chirped. I pulled it from my bag and stared as it rang. “MOM,” read the screen.
Ignoring the call, I walked into the kitchen at the back of the house, put my phone on the counter to the right of the sink, and filled a small glass with water from the tap. I leaned with my back against the sink and drank it slowly.
The phone on the counter to my left taunted me, ominous in its ability to make me wait for news. I waited to hear if it would give me a message alert.Ping. There it was. A voicemail.
I rinsed my glass and put it in the drying rack. Todd lay at my feet, panting, his squeaky toy resting between his paws. I looked down at him. “Should I listen to the message?” He lifted his head. “I know. I’m just as tired of it as you are. Let’s go see what we can find out about Mr.Barringer instead, shall we? You don’t care, do you? Nope. I didn’t think so. Well, at least come keep me company.”
I motioned to the circular staircase that led to the loft I used as an office. “C’mon, let’s go.” He lifted himself up off the floor and jogged up the stairs in front of me.
Shag carpet absorbed my padded steps as I climbed the stairs. The A-frame peaked in this room, making me feel like I was in a cozy cocoon. A floor-to-peak, triangular window at the far end of the room looked out into the darkness. During the limited daylight hours of winter, I could stare at the snow-covered mountain peaks. In the winter they were accessible only by dog sled or snowmobile. In the summer, they were crisscrossed with hiking trails, leading miles into the back-country.
My desk was placed at the window. Orderly, simple, neat. I sat in the white cushioned office chair and turned on the computer. Todd lay under the desk, his chin on the tops of my bare feet.
I pulled up a browser and typed ‘Brett Barringer’ in the search engine bar and waited.
There were thousands of articles. If I were a less controlled person, I might have tossed the computer straight through the glass window.
Sharks Center, Brett Barringer, traded to SeattleKraken
Barringer traded for a second time after missing eight years of clinching a playoffwin
Seattle Kraken to pay Barringer largest one-year contract in leaguehistory
Brett Barringer benched after knee injury; will return after the NewYear
Is this the beginning of the end, for Kraken’s Center, Brett Barringer?
Story after story about expectations for the great Brett Barringer. Of course. I wanted to vomit. I massaged my temples with my index and middle finger. I kept reading.
Brett Barringer was on track to being one of the top ten hockey players of all time. He’s scored more points than any of his current competition but just can’t pull the team together. With three conference losses, four missed playoffs, and one playoff loss, Barringer seems destined to keep missing the prized jewel of the hockey world, the Stanley Cup. The Seattle Kraken, the newest franchise in the league, took a gamble on Barringer, scoring him, at least, the largest contract in league history. It seemed the gamble was going to pay off, as the Kraken headed into the season with a record setting year of wins. That is, until Barringer took a hit to the knee and was benched until after the new year.