Chapter 13
THEO
“Did you even know Mom was talking to someone?” I ask Carter as he stops at the curb outside of the domestic terminal at the Atlanta airport.
“Not until I heard it from you,” Carter says. “But is it all that weird? She’s a grown woman—and our mother. How much do you really want to know about her dating life?”
“Fair point,” I say as I reach for my bag. “But this still feels like it came out of the blue.”
“I’m just glad she asked you to tag along,” Carter says.
“I feel a lot better about her meeting a man she doesn’t know with you there to keep an eye on her.
” He reaches over and puts a hand on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze.
“And it’s not like you couldn’t do with a vacation.
It’ll be nice to be out of the city for a few days. Enjoy it.”
When my mother called and invited me to Anna Maria Island for a week, she framed it as me doing her a favor.
Apparently, she’s been communicating with a man online for the past few months, and they finally decided to meet up in person.
She insists she trusts him, but she also listens to a lot of true crime podcasts, so she felt like she needed this guy to also meet one of her sons.
Just to make sure he understands who will be coming after him should he do anything to hurt her.
I’m happy she’s taking precautions to protect herself, but her timing couldn’t be worse.
Partly because every minute of physical therapy is a minute I need, though Nico insists the time away should be good for me.
He’s not happy with the level of nerve pain I’m still experiencing.
He’s had me on the ice this past week, and it isn’t going as well as either of us hoped.
When I told him about my mom’s invitation, he thought a break was a great idea.
I completely disagree. I want to be on the ice. Mind over matter. I’ll recover because I’ll make myself recover. I don’t need a break; I need to push myself. Figure out a way to play through the pain that’s clearly going to be a part of my new reality.
But even more than that, I don’t want to leave the city when Becca is still in it. I’ve texted her a couple of times since the MS Walk, totally benign messages, and she’s responded both times. My next move was to invite her and Mia to a casual hangout with some of my teammates.
Which can’t happen if I’m in Florida with my mom.
“Are you sure you can’t go instead?” I ask my brother. Mom told me she’d ask Carter if I couldn’t make it work, so I know she wouldn’t care if he showed up instead of me. “We can just swap driver’s licenses right now, and I’ll send you my boarding pass.”
“No can do,” Carter says. “We’ve only got three weeks of freedom before training camp. I’m spending every possible second with my wife. Plus, she has a gallery show in New York on Thursday. There’s no way I’m missing that to play bouncer for Mom.”
I breathe out a sigh. “It’s not fair that you have a wife card. Nothing will ever trump that.”
Beside the car, an airport employee directing traffic blows a whistle, motioning for Carter to clear the area. “Have fun,” he says with a smirk. “Tell Mom I said hi.”
Resigned to my fate, I climb out of his truck and grab my duffle bag out of the back. “Thanks for the ride.”
I give him one last wave, then pull my hat down low and head into the airport. There’s a slight delay in security, so by the time I make it to my gate, most everyone else has already boarded. I smile at the gate agent as I scan my boarding pass, then head onto the plane.
My seat is the only empty one in first class—the aisle seat in the very last row. Fortunately, there’s still room in the overhead bin, so I shove my duffle inside and turn to sit down. But then I pause, heart climbing into my throat.
“Becca?” I say, and she looks up. She’s sitting a few rows back in Economy.
Her eyes widen. “Theo? What are you doing here?”
“You need to take your seat, sir,” the flight attendant says from behind me.
I nod and sit down, then twist around in my seat. It’s harder to see Becca from here, but then she leans into the aisle, hands lifted like she can’t quite believe we’re on the same plane.
That makes two of us.
“Why are you going to Tampa?” she asks.
“I’m going to see my—”
The flight attendant clears her throat.
“I’m sorry,” I say, lifting my eyes to meet hers. I offer her my most charming smile. “Can I just step back there for a quick second?”
She gives me a look, like she’s considering against her better judgment, then she finally cracks and smiles. “Be quick,” she says. “We’re taking off soon.”
I stand and quickly move back to where Becca is sitting, then crouch down in the aisle.
“I saw what you did up there,” she says, giving me a teasing look. “Charming your way past the flight attendant.”
I grimace. “It was for a good cause?”
Becca chuckles. “Like charming your way out of your Spanish final was a good cause?”
“It’s not my fault I had a hockey tournament that weekend. Besides, Senora Adler knew I would have gotten an A on that test.”
“Right. And why is that? Oh wait. It’s because you had such a brilliant study partner. Funny, though. She still had to take the final.”
“And is still salty about it eight years later,” I say.
Becca rolls her eyes. “Okay, but for real, what are you doing here?”
Before I can answer, the man sitting next to Becca shifts and clears his throat, holding up his phone.
“Do you mind?” he says rudely. “I’m on a call.
” The man is in a business suit, his dress shirt cutting into his very generous neck, and he looks like he’s about to pop three different veins in his forehead.
Becca shifts a little closer to me, moving even more of her body into the aisle.
I don’t know who the guy thinks he is, expecting the entire airplane to quiet down for his phone call, but I lower my voice anyway. “I’m going to see my mom,” I say. “It’s a weird story, but basically, she wants me to meet a guy? Someone she met online.”
She frowns. “You’re going to see your mom? That’s weird because I’m also—”
The man beside her clears his throat again, louder this time, exaggerating his movements as he shifts his phone from one hand to the other.
I stand to my full height and hold out my hand to Becca. “Come here for a sec?”
Wordlessly, she unbuckles her seatbelt and steps into the aisle. At the back of the plane, the flight attendants are moving through the cabin, closing the overhead bins, which means we’re almost out of time.
I walk her up to first class. “Here. Take my seat,” I say. “I’ll sit next to that guy.”
Her eyes widen. “No. Absolutely not. I can’t let you do that.”
“I’m not leaving you to sit with him, Bec.”
She bites her lip, glancing from my seat back to hers. “Then let’s give him your seat. And you can sit next to me.”
I consider her offer. I’d love for her to enjoy the comfort of first class, but I don’t hate the idea of sitting next to her. I nod and move back to her row.
“Hey,” I say to the guy, and he looks up, eyebrows lifted, full scowl on his face. “Trade seats with me?”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because mine is in first class,” I say. “Take it. I’ll sit here.”
“What’s the catch?” he asks, looking around the plane like he can’t really believe I’m serious.
“No catch.” My eyes shift past him to the elderly woman sitting on his other side, purse clutched to her chest like it’s her lifeline. I doubt she’s looking forward to ninety minutes sitting next to him. “I just want to sit next to my friend.”
He frowns one last time, but then he stands and moves out of the row, taking his phone call with him.
I make eye contact with the first-class flight attendant and give her a nod, letting her know I switched on purpose.
I hate to have saddled her with a guy who will probably be insufferable, but at least she’s getting paid to deal with him.
Better her than Becca.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Becca says.
“Yes, I did,” I say. “That guy was a jerk.”
“Well, you have to at least let me give you the aisle seat,” she says. “You’re way too big to fit in the middle.”
Another flight attendant comes up behind us, ushering us into our seats, so Becca scoots in, leaving the aisle for me. It’s … not an easy fit, even with the extra leg room the aisle provides. But I don’t have any regrets.
The woman on the other side of Becca reaches over and rests a hand on my forearm. “Thank you,” she says. “That other man was very rude. And he smelled like boiled potatoes.”
“He did smell like potatoes!” Becca says, frowning. “I couldn’t figure out what it was. But that’s totally it.”
“Good riddance, then,” I say. I look down at Becca, suddenly realizing how close we’re sitting. She looks good. Really good. I’m suddenly grateful I couldn’t convince Carter to trade places with me.
“I second her thank you,” Becca says. “Mostly because you don’t smell like potatoes.”
“You’re lucky I left my root vegetable cologne at home,” I say, and she laughs. “Now, are we going to talk about why we’re both going to Tampa?”
“Right! You’re going to see your mom,” she says. “Which is wild because I’m also going to see my mom.”
“You are?”
She nods. “She had these plans with my dad, but then he forgot to ask for time off work. Since she’d already booked the place, she asked me to come instead.”
We pause our conversation long enough for the captain to give us an update about our flight time and the weather in Tampa, but I’m hardly listening. My mind is spinning the entire time, trying to make sense of what Becca just told me.
What are the odds that both my mom and Becca’s mom are in Tampa at the same time? And that they both invited us to be there with them?
It feels too strange to be random, but the alternative makes even less sense.
“I’m going to be honest,” I say when the captain finishes. “This feels like a really weird coincidence.”
Becca nods. “If it matters, I’m just passing through Tampa. Mom’s meeting me at the airport, but then we’re driving down to Anna Maria Island. That’s where the beach house is.”
I let out a little laugh. This can’t actually be happening.
“What’s so funny?” Becca asks.
“Just that I’m also going to Anna Maria Island.”
Her eyes widen. “Shut up. Theo, what’s happening? Are they…? I mean, no. You said you’re going to meet your mother’s boyfriend, right?”
“Not boyfriend, exactly,” I say. “Just someone she met online. She said she wants to make sure he isn’t a serial killer, and she thinks having one of her sons with her when they meet for the first time will make him understand he shouldn’t mess around.”
“I mean, that’s a very Kim move,” Becca says. “She always was a realist. But I…” She shakes her head. “I hate to even say it out loud, but is it possible we’re both being played here?”
“You think they did this on purpose? Invited us both?”
“I mean, they’re basically best friends now. They’re playing pickleball. Having lunch a few times a week.” Becca tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “My mom has literally mentioned your mom a million times in the last few days. They’re setting us up, Theo. They have to be.”