Page 47 of Forecasting the Forward

“Rats.”

“Why a rat?” he laughs.

“Well, you don’t seem like a guy that would keep gerbils or mice. Rats are actually quite intelligent, and I imagine you’d teach them to do tricks.”

He nods. “Now I kinda want to get some rats.”

“No,” I say sternly. “I don’t do rats.”

“You’ll learn about them, but you won’t interact with them?”

“Alright, smart-ass. What are you scared of?” I ask.

“Not too much. I’m not a huge fan of spiders, I guess.”

“What if I said I loved tarantulas, and I wanted to bring my five different species of tarantula into your apartment?”

He shudders. “Point taken. No rats, and no tarantulas.”

I smile sweetly at him. “Now tell me about your guinea pigs.”

“I will, but you have to promise me you won’t tell anyone. They aren’t exactly a secret, but I don’t go out and publicize that I have six of them.”

“Six? Why six?” I ask, intrigued.

“I like even numbers. Originally I had five, because that’s how many the kid at the farm suckered me into buying when I went a year or so ago with a buddy’s family,” he says sheepishly. He then tells me all about his harem of flower-named guinea pigs, their favorite foods, and the setup he has in his apartment. “But, like I said, I’ve got this thing with even numbers. Grabbed the sixth one a month or two later.”

I figure now isn’t a good time to tell him that Thunder will probably try to eat at least one of them.

Two and a half hours later,Jacob shakes my knee. “We’re about to land, Spitfire. Didn’t want the landing to jar you.”

Lifting my head, I realize I fell asleep on Jacob’s shoulder. I frantically wipe at the drool spot on his shirt, then wipe my mouth. Lovely. I look through my lashes to find Jacob struggling to withhold a smile, but I’m thankful he doesn’t tease me about my drooling. As the wheels touch down on the runway, I ask, “Where are we again?”

“Cleveland,” he says dryly. “A city famous for having a river filled with so much debris and oil that it actually caught fire.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep. I remember a teammate in college talking about it. Michigan and Ohio have a hate-hate relationship, and since I went to the University of Michigan for college, I learned all about the ridiculous Ohio facts I could throw around when needed.”

“The river catching on fire changed how we view pollution and the city’s industrial landscape. There’s a lot more to Cleveland than just one detail about a fire,” the man sitting across from us states loudly.

Jacob leans forward to stare at the guy. “Let’s just ignore the fact that you were so blatantly eavesdropping on my conversation with my wife, and chat about that one detail, shall we?”

I find myself reaching to rest my hand on Jacob’s. Not only to support him, but he just called me his wife — in public — and my body is reacting pretty quickly to it. I need to touch him.

“How many times did the Cuyahoga River catch fire?” Jacob asks sternly.

The man’s face pales. “Uh, I’m not sure, but so many changes have been made to benefit the environment and the city since then, so does it really matter?”

“The answer is thirteen. It’s caught fire thirteen times.”

“Over the last century.”

“That doesn’t make it any better, my guy,” Jacob chuckles. “It’s great that your city has made improvements. Doesn’t change the past, though.”

“True. Would you like me to comment on all of your faults, hockey boy?” the man asks aggressively.

“Sure,” Jacob answers nonchalantly. “Go ahead.”

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