Chapter Thirteen
T he very last thing that Samuel expected on Monday morning was to be driving up to Rivertown with Liam and Oliver on the way to Bryce Emerson’s house.
But Liam had called him early on Monday morning, explaining that Evan had called him, telling him that he had another friend who wanted to work with them.
“Who is it?” Samuel had asked, bleary-eyed, uncaffeinated and curious.
“Bryce Emerson? I’ve heard of him, but I don’t…know him.”
Threads, ties. He’d say this was fate, but he wouldn’t call this anything like that. Just connections falling into place at the perfect time. Which meant he had to say something that felt strange. “Would it sound weird to say I do?” Samuel asked, slowly coming to life.
“It would be exciting,” Liam replied, in a way that made Samuel feel the sentiment was genuine. Liam was like that. “Honestly, I don’t have a clue and neither does Oliver, so it would be a very, very good thing professionally that one of us does, and personally as a mentor I love seeing you flourish.”
After tamping down his enthusiasm at Liam’s praise, Samuel was able to respond. “Good, hold that thought. Let me call you back.”
Of course, Samuel was very lucky Bryce took his call; luckier still the conversation was quick. “Listen,” he’d told Bryce, who wasn’t exhausted, “we talked about doing something, and Evan Lefkowitz told my mentor…”
Bryce immediately said yes. “Evan called me yesterday, so I’m absolutely in to work with the logo team on a mask. Makes it look better for the organization but also for all of the artists, and reminding people why they’re spending the money and who it’s for.”
Which was a relief that Evan had briefed someone in this group of potential collaborators. But instead of pondering this, he got directions and information from Bryce. Before calling Liam back.
“I’d offer to drive,” Samuel said, “but my brother still has my car, and his car is in Briarwood.”
“I’ll take care of that,” Liam said.
Not very long after, Samuel found himself in Oliver’s car, heading up to Rivertown. Some of the houses reminded Samuel of parts of Briarwood, just yanked and dragged south down route nine, past Hollowville into a town with a river view.
“So how exactly did you meet this guy?” Liam asked. “Who is he?”
“He does multimedia,” Oliver said, stepping in. “He knows Isaac…most of his stuff is painting and sculpture, but I think he grabbed Evan’s attention because of the hockey masks he makes.”
Which was probably a more succinct explanation than Samuel could have made. “That’s what he was talking about,” Samuel said. “Some kind of mask. Anyway, he was at the Unicorns practice on Saturday. I guess his wife is one of the founders?”
“Oh that’s great,” Liam said, sounding impressed. “That’s right, you told me you were going. So it was good in a bunch of ways then. Did you get some ideas?”
Samuel nodded. “I did,” he said. “I’m excited to get to work on some of the concepts I have.”
“Where was this practice?” Oliver asked. “How did you get in?”
“JCC in Briarwood. My girlfriend—” because that’s what she was for all intents and purposes “—her niece was participating in a tryout session.”
“Oh that’s right. The practice was Leah’s doing?” Liam said.
Samuel nodded, wondering what had happened on Sunday at the con, wondering what they’d said to each other. They seemed to have gotten along, but he wasn’t sure.
“It was,” Samuel finally said. “She had more than professional knowledge of the program.”
“You still didn’t say what the program was like,” Liam said. “Tell us.”
Samuel explained what he’d seen, the excited girls and the way the program incorporated very specific tools to make the fundamentals of the sport interesting to little girls with particular interests without compromising either the interests or the sport itself.
Seeing the excitement and the ideas fly across Liam’s face made Samuel smile, not to mention the lack of judgment.
“We definitely should incorporate some of the kids and the moves into the logo,” Oliver said.
Which was something Samuel himself had been playing with, so it felt good to have Oliver on board. “That’s what I was thinking, at least,” he admitted as they continued to drive through Rivertown, past the high school and signs that pointed to the downtown area. “But before we dive deeper, is there anything in particular that Evan Lefkowitz wants with the logo? Anything he doesn’t want?”
Liam shook his head. “No,” he said as they pulled into a long driveway. “Nothing in particular. Although we do have to decide whether it’s going to be a logo general to the organization or specific to the gala. If we incorporate too many of the elements tied to the honoree, it won’t be so much of a perpetual logo but something specific.”
The conversation continued as they parked in the driveway and headed up to the front door. “Let’s table this,” Liam suggested.
Samuel nodded. “Bryce is going to want in to the discussion. He seemed excited to chat with us.”
“That’s good to know,” Liam said as they headed up to the front door. They didn’t even start to knock when Bryce opened the door.
“Welcome,” Bryce said, his eyes sparkling. “Welcome to my humble abode.”
“Thank you for hosting us,” Samuel said, trying to take in the moment and enjoy himself. “I’m excited.”
“It’s no problem,” Bryce replied, his smile wide. “You came out here to see me. So it’s me who should be thankful.”
“You have to be good to make us drive out to Yennevelt,” Oliver said with a laugh. “Back of beyond…”
Samuel raised an eyebrow, slowly getting more comfortable. “You’re from Crystal Harbor,” he said. “Rivertown isn’t Yennevelt and Briarwood is three towns over.”
Liam clapped Oliver on the shoulder, a sign that Samuel had managed a successful jab. “My point exactly, though I wasn’t the one who made it in the first place.”
Thankfully, Bryce laughed and didn’t shove the three of them outside. “Well I’m glad you’re all here,” he said. “Come on in. Let’s go upstairs and figure this out.”
“Upstairs?” Oliver asked.
Bryce nodded. “My wife’s hockey space is downstairs. Better to block out the puck noises with the setup we’ve got. Safer too, that way. Also, there’s better light in the attic.”
“Great poetry,” Samuel as he followed the group upstairs, trying not to trip on the stairs or someone’s feet or anything like that. “Better living space?”
“The best.”
And of course it was: light through the windows, drafting tables and equipment that went beyond the capacity of anything Samuel had ever imagined before. It was…beautiful.
Eventually, they settled down around a table at the center of the workspace. “So,” Bryce asked. “What’s the plan?”
“Well,” Samuel said with a smile. “That’s what we were hoping you’d help us figure out.”
And as they dove in to the conversation they needed to have about what the logo would look like, he felt invigorated. Excited. He couldn’t wait to start lettering.
*
Leah got the most random email that morning from one of her clients, asking her for a private meeting.
That was usual, but the name sending the email wasn’t.
She’d just seen Carly on Saturday and she’d said practically nothing about meetings.
But Carly was a client who’d done her a major favor, and so she made the drive. The traffic was nonexistent by the time she got on the road, proving the theory that reverse commuting was still a thing.
What could be going on? What was happening?
She didn’t know, and Leah pulled into the driveway, avoiding another car with New York plates that was parked off to the side. She didn’t think much of it until she headed inside the house. “Thank you for coming,” Carly said. “I’m very grateful that you drove all this way.”
“You called me here,” she said, as they headed to a small comfortable couch in the middle of the living room. “And it sounded urgent.”
Carly nodded. “It is, Leah. Thank you for coming out here on such short notice.”
“Not that short,” Leah replied.
“Still,” Carly said, “the fact that you’re so willing to accommodate me is very much appreciated.”
“It’s what we do,” Leah said with a smile as she took out her tablet. “So what’s going on?”
“Well,” Carly said, smiling, her eyes bright. “I’m ready to go back to training. I’ve talked to my doctor and I’m starting to stretch. Carefully. But stretching.”
Carly was a goaltender, and she absolutely needed a doctor’s approval or even supervision, before beginning to follow the specific pattern of stretching goaltenders required.
“That’s wonderful,” Leah said.
“It is. I’m excited to dive in. I’m being careful but I’m loving going back so far.”
But within the words there were still questions. Carly was going back, but where? What was Carly’s end goal? Instead of sitting and wondering, letting the words hang over them like clouds, Leah pushed forward. “Where do you want to end up?”
Leah held her breath as she waited for Carly’s response; this was the key that would determine everything related to Carly going forward.
“The goal, I think,” Carly finally said, “has always been to try to play with the Empires before my brother-in-law retires. I’ve always said that if I was going to do it, now was going to be the time.”
This is why Carly wanted to have this conversation now. Because people were going to be asking questions about what Carly wanted at the gala.
Which meant her client had wanted to tell her first. “So,” Leah said, trying to remember what the provision in the contract she’d signed look like. “You want to have the secret part of contract activate, and train with the Empires staff? See where you land? Make the decisions with them and then make moves?”
Carly nodded, relieved, as if she’d expected Leah to say something different. “That’s what I want. And that’s why you’re here.”
Leah could see the questions looming large in Carly’s eyes. But it wasn’t up to Leah to ask them; it was for Carly. “What do you want to know?”
“Do you think I have a chance?”
Which was the question that everybody wanted the answer to, including Leah herself. But knowing Carly, Leah elected to be as honest as she could. What were the facts she knew in the situation? She’d start there and go forward. “I think you and the Empires staff have always been clear that you playing with them, with the big club, has been the end goal of your arrangement with them. I think if you’re ready to push back to high gear, this is the time to do it.”
“Then it’s perfect,” she said.
“It is,” Leah replied. And just as they started to talk more about specifics there was a loud whopping sound from upstairs. “What…?”
Carly laughed. “My husband has some artists over. Thankfully—” she pointed to a bassinette where a baby was sleeping peacefully “—Dana sleeps like the dead after a feeding so she’s fine.”
It was good to know the baby was sleeping, but Leah’s mind had gotten stuck on a word. “Artists?”
Carly nodded. “Yeah. He’s got a colorist, a letterer, and a guy who draws to collaborate on something.”
Collaboration sounded great, but again, the skipping-record sound had played already. Because there weren’t many people who lettered; it was very specialized job on the comics side. She had a feeling though, a thought made of a messy, knotted thread and a remembered bit of a conversation on Saturday.
She had a very strong feeling Samuel was part of the group that was collaborating upstairs.
But she had to ask. “Letterer?”
“Yeah,” Carly said. “I think you know him actually… Was the guy you brought to practice on Saturday named Samuel?”
“Yeah,” she said. Because that’s how life and messy tangled threads worked. At least for her. “It was.”
“Oh great,” Carly said. “They’re doing some very cool stuff up there for the gala, actually.”
And as she and Carly continued to talk, Leah wondered what was going on, and whether she’d want to stay long enough to see him.
*
A few hours later, Oliver and Liam had to go back to the city; but Samuel stayed behind to talk to Bryce about a few things. There was rideshare in Rivertown, after all, and he’d gotten a text from his brother about picking up his car at the shop over in Briarwood.
Eventually, they went down only to see Bryce’s wife taking coffee cups into the kitchen. There was something off, and he could feel it in the way Bryce looked around, as if he wasn’t seeing what he thought he would.
“I thought your agent was here,” Bryce said.
Agent.
Carly’s agent was…
Leah?
Yes. That’s partially how Samuel got into the practice, and…
But he needed to say something. “Is she still…”
“Yeah,” Carly said with a smile. “She went to the bathroom. We’ve taken the time to talk about a few things.”
“Hi…”
And then anything Bryce or Carly said didn’t matter. She was there and she was staring at him. Not a bad stare, no, but it was an inquisitive stare. What was he doing there? What was she going to ask him? What…
“I saw the others leave,” she said. “You were still here, so you know.”
Carly laughed, but he didn’t care. Leah Nachman had waited for him. When she didn’t have to. “Yeah,” he said. “Finishing up a few things, having a quick chat.”
“You heading back to the city?”
He wanted to say yes, but he couldn’t. But then again he could give her something.
“Actually,” he said with a smile. “Can you bring me somewhere in Briarwood?”
There was a long pause, and he wondered if he’d said the right thing or made the right choice. But she smiled. “Why not.”
And as they said their goodbyes, he wondered how he’d managed this. Was it luck, friendship or something else?
Strings, threads, ties, things that tied them together. He’d follow them all the way to where they were going.