Page 128 of On the Power Play

The driver had on a black sport coat. She was wearing her favourite jeans. Better. Delia drew a deep breath. That was better.

"Okay. I think I can talk now."

Jack exhaled, his breath turning into static in the microphone. "I was about to phone my dad and get in his truck."

Delia sniffed. "I'm sorry. This is the last thing I wanted."

"Just tell me what's going on."

"Okay. Okay." She leaned back in the seat, readjusting her seatbelt as she closed her eyes. "We have a friend who lived next door my whole life. Her name's Tenille and she's in her seventies now . . ."

Delia recounted how she'd just arrived back at Jack's hotel room when Tenille's number popped up on her cell phone. She hadn't remembered saving her as a contact, it had been so long since they’d been in contact. Moving away from their apartment had been bittersweet, with relief and regret. Delia and her mom still stopped by every week or so to check on her and drop off cookies or help her chip the ice off the edge of the walkway since management still hadn't fixed the leaking eaves.

She had no idea how Tenille had even gotten over to their new house. She couldn't remember ever telling her where they lived. But somehow she'd made it past the gate and showed up on their doorstep. She'd knocked and waited for almost a half an hour before her mom had been able to make her way to the door and open it.

"She must have pneumonia or something, I don't know. Her cough sounded terrible. That's where her Lupus attacks hardest, and she's already taking Ibuprofen for her pleuritis, but she won't take the steroids they keep trying to get her to take?—"

"Alright. Wow. Well I'm really glad someone found her. Did they go to the hospital?"

Delia groaned. "No, my mom is so stubborn. She hates doctors and is convinced that if she waits it out and drinks her herbal concoctions, she'll be fine." Delia was sure as hell going to have a conversation with the service they’d hired to help her mom in her absence. Why hadn’t someone contacted her?

"Can't blame her. She has a one hundred percent track record."

Delia laughed, and the sound surprised her. "How do you do that?"

"What?"

"Make me laugh when I feel like the world is caving in?"

"It's not hard to make you laugh, Dels."

Her chest warmed. Only Mary and Tony called her Dels, but she was immediately in love with the way it rolled off his lips. "It's hard for most people."

"Well, I’m not most people."

"I'm becoming acutely aware of that." Delia wanted to be back in that hotel room. She wanted to press herself against him and forget about that phone call. She glanced out the window as they hit the exit for the airport. "I’m so sorry, Jack. Last night was . . ." She caught herself, remembering that Alvin sat directly in front of her.

"Yeah. It was."

She heard the slam of a car door. "Are you back at the hotel?"

"Yep."

"I left you something. It's not nearly as cool as a coat."

He chuckled. "Yeah, you're not going to beat that anytime soon."

She grinned. "I'll phone you when I land?"

"Text. I'll probably go to bed early so I'm rested for tomorrow."

"I'll watch the game. Every second. Even though I'm not there, you'll know I'm seeing it, so your stats should still go up, right?"

Jack laughed out loud. "Wait, you know about that?"

She'd seen it on two different memes when she braved the internet before Tenille had reached out. "I like being your good luck charm."

There was the ding of an elevator. "I'm a big fan."

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