Page 20 of Game Changer
“What?A party?”
“My cousin JP just got engaged.My aunt and uncle are throwing a party for him.”
“Oh, nice!”
“They don’t know I’m coming.”
“You didn’t tell them?”
“I told them I was coming, just not exactly when.They planned this party the same day I arrive, so I’m just going to surprise everyone.”
“Fun!Okay, now tell me about your family and why you and your grandpa don’t get along and why you don’t trust his wife.”
“It’s long and complicated.”
“We have about four and a half hours,” she says, fastening her seatbelt.
I laugh.“True.”I fasten my own seatbelt as people file past us, filling the aircraft.“Okay.You know my grandpa is Bob Wynn.”
“King of hockey.”
“Yeah.My grandma—his first wife—died a few years before I was born.She came from a wealthy family in Toronto.”
Molly nods, shifting a bit to face me, leaning her elbow on the small table between us.
“Grandpa remarried about two years after Grandma died.His new wife is a lot younger than him.He was living in Los Angeles then, and my dad and my uncle both thought this woman married him for his money.”
“Ooh.Is she young and beautiful?”
“Yeah,” I admit.“I mean, she’s a lot younger than Grandpa.It caused bad feelings between all of them.They never liked Chelsea, and that pissed off Grandpa.Then Grandpa and Chelsea had a bunch of kids, which was around the same time I was born.And my sister and cousins.So it’s kind of weird that we have an aunt and uncles who are basically the same age as us.Dad and Uncle Matthew didn’t like that, either.”
“I’m kind of feeling sorry for your grandpa and Chelsea.”
“Huh.Really?”
“Yeah.”She gives a firm nod.
“Well, I grew up with my parents and Uncle Matt and Aunt Aline all telling me that Chelsea was the devil and Grandpa was stupid for falling for her conniving, money-grubbing scheme.”Another reason why marriage is for suckers.
“Oh my God.”
“And then there’s the money part.”
“This is like a soap opera.”
“Yeah.”I grimace.
I pause the story while announcements are made and we taxi out onto the runway for takeoff.I watch Molly’s fingers clench together tightly as the plane lifts into the sky.Her eyes are squeezed closed, her lips rigid.
“Nervous?”I’d like to reach out and cover her hands with mine, but I’m not sure if that’s appropriate.
“I don’t want to die,” she says through clenched teeth.
I swallow a laugh.I fly so often I don’t even think of it anymore.“You’re not going to die.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Okay, let’s say the odds are very, very small.Minute.Infinitesimal.”
