She couldn’t believe she’d been as stupid as every other mid-thirties single woman who met a guy that was everything she’d ever hoped for and believed his line of BS as a result. She flinched at the memory.

Sydney leaned over the seat across the aisle and said, “I have an extra blanket. Want it?”

The air in the cabin was still somewhat chilly, but Kendall wasn’t that cold.

“I’m fine. Thanks.” She reached out for the Kindle she’d stuffed into the seat back and waited for the pilot to announce it was okay to turn on electronic devices. She’d left the work in her briefcase for a change. She’d be home again in ninety minutes, and shortly after she bought a disposable phone at the local grocery store, she’d be talking to Drew.

THREE AND A half hours later, Drew was restlessly prowling his house. He’d tried reading a book. He attempted answering his e-mail. Video games weren’t even a distraction. He was always keyed up after a game, but tonight’s edginess was unusual for him. He should have gone out with the guys. A good dinner and a drink or two would have gone a long way to helping him settle down a bit.

He jumped a little when he felt Kendall’s phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out and stared at a number with a Los Angeles area code. She’d said she would call him; he’d better answer. He hit “talk” and said, “Kendall’s phone.”

“Hello,” the man on the other end said. “Who’s this?”

“Kendall has stepped away for a moment. May I take a message?”

“I thought her assistant was a woman.” The guy let out a breath. “It’s Rick Thomason. I’m Sherman Washington’s agent. I understand the Miners are looking to make a change at the strong safety position. Would you ask her to give me a call at her earliest convenience?”

Drew wondered if the Sharks’ front office knew Sherm was doing a little shopping ahead of free agency. He shouldn’t be surprised by this; he was used to teammates who were there one season and gone the next. He was a bit surprised at any Shark voluntarily going to the Miners.

“I’ll do that. Does she have your number?”

“You must be new. She talked with me last week,” the guy said and hung up.

He walked into the kitchen and pulled the refrigerator door open. A piece of fruit might hit the spot before he went to bed. Who was he kidding? He wouldn’t sleep until he talked with Kendall again. He hoped for a little more conversation. He was also a bit concerned about Thomason’s calling her at ten PM Sunday night on the West Coast. Did he want to talk about his client, or was he about to ask Kendall out on a date?

The cell phone in his other pocket vibrated, and he pulled it out. The display showed his parents were calling from their home in Wisconsin. He knew what time they went to bed. Midnight their time was too damn late for a social call.

He dragged breath into his lungs and hit “talk.” “Mom?”

“Son, it’s your dad. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine. How are you?” He grabbed an apple out of the crisper. “It’s pretty late there. Is everything okay?”

“We’re all doing well. Everyone came over for dinner earlier, and your nephew Hunter took his first steps. Your mother is thrilled.”

“He’ll be running before football season is over,” Drew said, ignoring the pang he felt every time he heard about the family things he missed during the season. He went home to visit during the offseason, but he didn’t get to see the first teeth/first steps/ /first bike ride and the other “firsts” his nieces and nephews experienced. Maybe his sister had taken some pictures with her cell phone camera. He heard his dad’s low chuckle.

“Probably. Son, we heard there was a storm in Seattle a couple of days ago. Everything looked normal during the game broadcast. How are you doing?”

“The house has a generator, so I was fine. There’s some downed branches and stuff in my yard. Most of the people who lost power are online again.” He let out a long breath. “I expect extreme weather in Wisconsin. I don’t usually see it in Seattle.”

“The newscasters said it was odd.”

What was odd was his dad’s calling him at close to midnight his time to chat about the weather. His mom was usually where the chatty phone calls originated from. She wanted to tell him all about what his family was doing and how they were looking forward to seeing him soon.

“Hey, Dad, did Mom go to bed already?”

“She was pretty tired after cleaning up after everyone earlier,” his dad said. “She sends her love.”

“I love her too. Dad, don’t you have to get to bed yourself pretty soon? You have to work tomorrow, right?”

“I do. I guess I’d better hit the hay.” His dad was quiet for ten seconds or so. “We miss you, son.”

“And I miss you, Dad. Give Mom a hug for me.”

“I’ll do that.”

Drew heard his dad’s phone click off and stared at his own phone. Something was wrong. His dad was in bed every night by ten. He awoke at five AM each morning, whether it was a workday or not. It was too late to call back tonight. Maybe he should call tomorrow morning, just to make sure nobody was sick or something else happened he should know about.

He rinsed off the apple, grabbing the slicer his ex-girlfriend bought him out of a drawer. He dumped the apple slices onto a napkin so he wouldn’t dirty a plate and sat down at his kitchen table. The thought that there was something wrong at his parents’ house nagged at him. He took a bite of apple and ran over the last few conversations with his mom in his head. She’d seemed distracted. Even more, she seemed unusually tired. She mentioned the fact his dad complained about a bit more convenience food at dinner now that he and his siblings were out on their own. Drew had laughed it off at the time.

“Mom, you’ve been spoiling Dad for thirty-five years. I’m sure some grocery store freezer case pasta and jarred spaghetti sauce won’t be the worst thing ever.”

“Honey, he expects the same kind of dinners we had when you were young. Cooking that amount for two people is ridiculous.” She let out a sigh. “I shouldn’t complain.”

“Tell Dad I keep hoping I’ll find someone like you to make me some freezer case pasta and jarred spaghetti sauce.”

He remembered the little laugh she gave and knew her cheeks were probably pink with embarrassment. “You’re sweet.”

“So are you, Mom.”

He was so lost in thought that Kendall’s phone ringing in his pocket startled him again. He grabbed it out, hit “talk,” and said, “Kendall’s phone.”

“Hi, Drew,” she said. “It’s nice to talk with you again.”

Twenty minutes later, he’d relayed the agent’s message, written down her home address and office direct line, and promised to send her phone back by overnight mail to her house. Drew hit “end” on the call and stared into space, lost in thought.

The phone would get to Kendall’s house, but if she worked the same hours as the Sharks’ GM did, there’d be nobody home to sign for it. He wasn’t going to send something so valuable overnight without making sure she got it back safely. She’d asked him twice to not send it to the Miners’ headquarters. She’d end up going to wherever the delivery facility was located to pick it up, which might be an even bigger problem.

He rubbed his hand over his face and let out a groan. His concern about how he could return her phone in the most convenient way possible wasn’t self-serving at all. It had nothing to do with wanting to see her again, or spend a few more minutes chatting and laughing together. He’d go to the same lengths for anyone else.

He shook his head and muttered, “No, I wouldn’t.”

He got up from the table and put Kendall’s phone back on the charger. Maybe he’d figure out a better way to return the phone if he got a good night’s sleep.

An hour later, he was still tossing and turning, but he’d made a decision. He sat up in bed and grabbed his smart phone off the bedside table. He pulled up an airline site and bought a ticket to San Jose, the closest airport to Kendall’s house.