2. Charlie
Meeting a woman at the pickleball court under the age of fifty was not something I had on my bucket list bingo. Reuniting with Bobby’s younger sister Ava wasn’t even remotely a possibility. The last I’d heard from her, she’d gone to college.
Was I surprised by how much older she is? Yes, but not in a bad way.
The last time I saw her, she was probably fifteen. The annoying sister of my best friend and kind of cute until she opened her mouth and started chirping about skills and stats.
Her parents had dropped her off at her Gran’s house when she was thirteen before they took off to see the world. Since Bobby and I had already graduated and Mr. Hooper sold off his company for a high price, they decided they were done being parents. At least that’s what I’d heard. I never really got the full story from Bobby.
The girl with the flat chest and the big dimple in her right cheek is now taller and has several more curves than before. But there’s a fierceness in her eyes that I didn’t see before. She’s probably had to fight through a lot over the years.
Time definitely flies.
Was there a moment of attraction there as I saw her walk onto the court? For sure, until I realized she’s Ava, the girl who terrorized us every time I came over to hang out. She also sent me to the hospital, so that should be a sign of how things would go for us.
“You’ll be all right,” Mom says as she waits for me in the lobby of the local doctor’s office.
“I know I will be. I’m a grown man, Mom. You should probably go find Emily.” My mom has always been the classic helicopter mom. She got a lot better when my sister and I were teenagers, but ever since my father’s death and sister’s cancer, I think it’s her way of coping.
She nods, as if just remembering about my fourteen-year-old niece. The two of them arrived here yesterday, but the house I’d purchased once I knew they were moving in with me was still being painted, so we’ve all been at a hotel.
We were going to get a game of pickleball in and go unpack everything, but it seems we had to make a detour to get stitches. Which is not something I’m looking forward to.
“What about the car?” my mom asks as she gets up from the chair to leave.
“I’ll find a way back. Maybe take an Uber or something.”
My mother shakes her head. “That makes me sound heartless.”
“No, that makes you a wonderful grandmother. I know Emily is probably hungry. Take her to get some lunch and I’ll let you know when I’m done.”
She gives me a kiss on the opposite side of the injury and says, “Okay, call me and we’ll come pick you up. You said you were going to find her a lacrosse team, too. Maybe look into that while you’re waiting?”
Nodding, I say, “Thanks for the reminder. I’ll do what I can on that.”
Moving my mom back from Michigan, where she’d lived while my sister had been going through chemo had been easy to negotiate. She hadn’t had time to meet too many people, aside from her weekly pickleball game. After already seeing some friends at the store, my mother looks relieved to be back.
Convincing my niece that moving to Oakhaven wouldn’t derail her life’s plans was a challenge. Negotiating is what I do for my career and Emily made me pull out all the stops.
My father died of a heart attack while I was in my teens, and Emily’s dad was hit by a drunk driver five years ago. We’ve had our share of heartbreak, but we’ve been able to overcome it together.
It was one reason I wanted them to move to Utah. My mom isn’t getting any younger, and being a parent of a teen isn’t the easiest. Her blood pressure has skyrocketed since taking care of Emily and I don’t want to lose her too.
I needed five stitches and am feeling the grogginess from the laughing gas. Yes, I’m thirty-one years old and had to be given meds to relax enough to get stitches, but I’ll admit to it. In business, I’m a bulldog, so it’s definitely a thing to have weaknesses somewhere.
I’ve gotten the go-ahead from the painters, letting me know the place is ready for us. We’ll probably still be smelling that fresh paint smell, but it’ll be better than the bed I slept in last night at the Oakhaven Hotel.
My townhouse in Salt Lake is under contract and I was tempted to drive the almost hour south just to get a few hours of sleep. I moved nothing into the new place, wanting to get the paint refreshed and new carpets put in before we had stuff to work around.
I walk out of the doctor’s office, grateful to be done with that experience.
My mom doesn’t answer when I call her to let her know I’ve survived. I’m not sure what she’s doing or where she is, but I’ve lived away from her long enough to know that I can do things by myself. I run a billion-dollar company on my own. Well, more like with the help of people I’ve hired to run it.
Uber isn’t a huge thing in this town, but I manage to find one person willing to take me from the doctor to the new house. I’ll just have Mom meet me there.
Walking out of the doctor”s lobby, I have to go through another hallway to get to the main doors where the Uber driver will pick me up. And who do I bump into but Slasher Ava. I think it’s a fitting nickname since she sent me to get stitches.
Her eyes are wide as she takes in the gauzy rectangle next to my eye. “Are you all right?”
“Come to gloat at my suffering?” I ask, folding my arms across my chest.
She frowns and says, “Absolutely not. I didn’t think about you coming here for the stitches. I’m here to see my grandma.”
That’s the one thing about this small town. The building we’re in houses a clinic with several doctors, the small hospital, and the rehab center.
That’s a noble thing, but why am I kind of irritated that she wasn’t super worried about me and hurried to make sure I was okay? Then again, it’s been over two hours since the incident.
Ava takes a step closer to me, examining the cotton covering my stitches.
“I’m sporting a new look. It’s called Newbie Playing Pickleball.”
A fire lights in her eyes and she says, “Oh, yeah, well, you didn’t look like you were going pro either, buddy.”
I’m trying not to laugh at how she ended that sentence, but it doesn’t go well. Instead of getting madder, I chuckle, which turns into an all-out belly laugh. Ava looks ticked about this change of events.
“How is Gran?” I ask, smiling at the memories of the bubbly older woman.
“She’s been better, but we hope she can come home soon.”
“What happened to her?” I say, glancing down the hall as if she’d just pop her head out of one of the doors on command.
Ava crosses her arms over her chest and nods. “She fell and broke her hip a couple of weeks ago when I was at work. She had to have surgery.”
My cold, dead heart twinges a bit. The Hoopers have never been super well-off, but they work harder than just about everyone I know. How Ava has got her Gran through all this, I’m not sure. But it makes me want to help.
“Tell her hi for me,” I say, getting a notification that my ride is here.
Ava grunts and says something before walking down the hallway that leads to the Rehab Care unit.
I probably shouldn’t have watched her walk away, but I’ve never really had a woman talk to me like that. Maybe it’s just been a long time since I’ve been called out on my attitude.
The drive to the new house takes about ten minutes and I’m in awe as much today as I was when I walked through the house six weeks ago. It’s a larger home than many in the vicinity and has its own private drive, which is preferable.
“Where are you?” my mom asks when I pick up her call.
“I got a ride to the new house. It’s all done.” I’m practically bouncing with excitement. The house I grew up in was a modest rambler that my parents bought at the beginning of their marriage, just a few miles away from here. I’d finally convinced Mom to sell that one when she moved up to live with my sister, and I’m sure she’s already driven to see it.
To treat her to a house like this is something else. Like the final cherry on the success that has come with my businesses.
“Really?” I can hear relief in her voice. The past few weeks have been filled with her cleaning out my sister’s home to put it on the market, packing, and driving down here. I’m sure settling into the house will be a welcome relief. “Emily and I will go pack up our stuff at the hotel and head that way. Do you want me to get your stuff?”
“If you don’t mind. I think the movers are calling me right now. I’ll send you the address and see you soon.”
I hang up with her to grab the waiting call from the moving company. “This is Charlie Danielson.”
“Hi Mr. Danielson. This is Hefty Helpers Moving Company. The truck should be there within the next ten minutes. Will you have someone meet them there?”
“Will do,” I say, smiling as I end the call.
I’m surprised to hear that they made it this quickly from Michigan.
By the time the truck pulls up, I’ve gone through the home and pictured what things will go where. We’ve got a few things from my townhouse that will come up as well as whatever Mom and Emily packed in the moving truck.
Once the truck arrives and is backed into my driveway, I direct the three men on where to put things as they unload them into the house. Mom’s car comes around it, waving before she’s even stopped the car.
I walk over and open her door, waiting for her reaction.
“This place is nice, Charlie,” Mom says.
“Well, I’m glad I have you both to share it with me.”
I walk over to Emily and give her a big hug, but she groans and takes a step back and quickly.
“How are you, Ems?”
“I’m here.” It’s hard to move anywhere as a kid, but six months after losing her mom and leaving her friends, I know I’m public enemy number one in her books. “Did you contact any lacrosse teams?”
Dang. I totally forgot about that important detail. My mom gives me a knowing look, like she tried to warn me.
“It’s in the works,” is all I can say. “I’ll make sure you get a tryout with every team in the valley if necessary.”
She rolls her eyes. “I just need a team that’s decent enough to play all over. If I’m stuck playing with girls who don’t even know how to scoop the ball, I’m hitchhiking back to Michigan.”
With a chuckle, I say, “I don’t doubt that. Let’s get unpacked and I’ll show you to your room.” I’m used to seeing Emily as a miniature of my sister, but this time, her snark calls up a mental picture of Ava. I brush that off, trying not to dwell on thoughts of my best friend’s grown up sister.
I know coming to a completely unfamiliar state isn’t ideal in her mind, but I hope to make everything work out.
Starting with finding her a team.