Page 43 of Hell Bent
“And Ben,” I reminded him.
“Right,” he said. “You and me and Ben.”
18
A LACK OF ENTHUSIASM
Sebastian
Noon on Saturday, and in the locker room again. Taking a shower even though all I’d done was a walk-through, because routine was important, and it would be better not to actually stink when I picked up Ben.
Owen said from beside me, “You OK?”
“Huh?” I looked over at him. He was buttoning yet another button-down shirt over yet another T-shirt. Some football players are fashion plates. Wide receiver, defensive back, QB, guys like that. Offensive line? Not so much. “Sorry, what did you say?”
“Asked if you were OK,” he said. “The Chiefs are beatable, whatever their record says. Every team’s beatable, and we know how to win. And it’s not all on you.”
“Oh,” I said. “No. I’m not worrying. Not much of a worrier, not about kicking.”
“Huh,” he said. “See, I’d have said you were worrying.”
I considered making some excuse, but what was the point? “My nephew’s coming to live with me. I’m picking him up now.”
Owen’s hands stilled on his buttons. “How old?” Which wasn’t the question I’d have expected.
“Fourteen. I’m trying to remember what he looks like. It’s been three or four years. He had these big teeth and kind of a baby face.”
“Maybe not anymore,” Owen said.
“Yeah. Hope I recognize him.”
“Got somebody to stay with him tonight while you’re at the hotel?”
“Uh … no. But I have a neighbor right next door with a kid about his age. I figure that if he needs help, he can go knock on her door.”
“Huh,” Owen said. “You know, Jennifer’s grandpa Oscar is still at their house. Jennifer too, obviously, and Annabelle and Nick. That might be a place. Family place. If he’s coming to live with you for some reason, it may be better for him not to be alone.”
“What, he gets here and I instantly send him somewhere else?” I said. “No.”
“You’ve got a point,” Owen said. “But hey. If I can help, let me know. I’ve got four nephews living next door on my ranch.”
“On yourranch?”OK, that was surprising.
“Yeah. In Wyoming. We run some cattle.” He grabbed a brown barn coat and buttoned that up, too. “I know some about kids. If you get in trouble, ask me.”
I pulled on my jacket, and as always, the heavy leather settled over me, reminding me of who I was and where I’d come from. “Thanks, but I was a kid in circumstances not too different myself. And my sister says he’s independent. I think we’ve got it.”
An hour and a half later,I was standing near the foot of the escalator, watching people stream down it and head for baggage claim. The screen above me had been showingArrivedfor Ben’s plane for a good forty minutes now, but there was Customs to get through. People were carrying heavy winter coats, though, and talking in an accent I recognized. Families hefting mountains of baby gear. Single people, some dressed for business, some dressed in a way I wouldn’t even consider for taking out the garbage. One teenage girl was wearing pajamas and slippers.
Another ten minutes. The Canadian accents and puffer jackets changed to Mickey Mouse ears and kids clutching lightsabers, and still he didn’t come. I looked at my watch. I had to check into the team hotel by five.
I heard, “Hey,” and looked up. There was a kid, all right. A gangly one with ears that stuck out and curly dark hair that stuck up. Wearing headphones.
I said, “Ben?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Obviously.” He was scowling.
“Hi,” I said. “Welcome. Let’s go get your bags.”
