"Still nothing yet?" Alastair asks. I've been crashing on his couch since returning to Baltimore. Camacho is being shady and evading my calls. I've half a mind simply to storm into his office and demand he trade me.
"Bloody crickets. He's being a wanker on purpose." I've no doubt he's trying to make me squirm. The Terrors grapevine confirmed he's trying to get in good with Edmund Jones, possibly to work a telly deal between the leagues. Also, I came down here at the worst possible time. It's Thanksgiving week, so there's theslightpossibility the office is simply closed, but I'm not giving him that much credit.
"No doubt. But you've got to do something. The movers are coming in an hour."
"I can't believe you're actually leaving me."
Alastair shrugs, continuing with the last of his packing. Boxes surround me. Ophelia and I should have spent this week doing the same so we could move into our new place. A place that will never be "our" home now. There's no reason for us to be married, so certainly no reason for us to live there.
That thought is taking up more emotional room than I'd anticipated.
"I wish you could come home with me." Alastair is leaving for England in the morning. He'll be training and playing with the Bristol Bombers before Christmas.
"If things don't take a turn for the better soon, I'll be sitting in the stands for your home opener." I don't even want to picture it. I cannot imagine life back on the farm, sleeping in my old room, cleaning out the aviary every morning, and never playing football again.
Not being able to see Ophelia either. I shake my head, trying to get her image out of it. It's not right how much I miss her. Why does she have to be so damn perfect?
"The first thing I'm doing is heading to a proper chip shop."
"That would be one benefit of having to return to England, tail between my legs. At least I'd get proper chips. And bangers. Even the so-called British pubs here don't do it right." My stomach growls.
"Aye. And a good cuppa." Alastair sinks down on the couch next to me. "But I'll miss ya, mate. It doesn't seem right to be playing at home without you."
I shrug. "What's done is done. Now I've got to figure out this mess. Ophelia's working on it from her end, but neither of us has come up with anything."
My phone pings with a text. My fingers fumble, trying to open it quickly.
Ophelia:Marry Youby Bruno Mars. That would be the perfect wedding song. Obv.
In spite of myself and my current predicament, I smile. In addition to copious pictures of Sundance, she sends at least one text a day on the quest to find our perfect wedding song.
The woman has atrocious taste, as every song she's suggested is not actually about love.
Me: Try again. He's basically saying they're bored and doing a dumb thing, like getting married.
Ophelia: Maybe it fits more than you think.
"Good news, mate?" I glance up to see Alastair grinning at me.
"Ah, no, it was just Ophelia."
"Mmm-hmm.JustOphelia."
I tilt my head. "What do you mean by that?"
"No one who puts a smile on your face like that should have the word 'just' before their name."
I attempt to lower the corners of my mouth. "I'm not smiling."
"Right. Anything you say." He stands. "I'm not trying to give you the bum's rush, but you either need to help or get out of the way. I've only a little bit left before the movers come."
I stare at my hands, still gripping my phone.
"Where ya goin'?" Alastair's voice is soft, and if I'm not mistaken, filled with pity.
Slowly, I stand. "Not sure. I've no place to go. I need to settle things here, but there's probably no sense in hanging around this week." Stupid holiday. "Seriously, why do they have turkey now? Don't Americans know that should be reserved for Christmas, and how are you supposed to eat it again in a month? Also, what's with all the American football? It's on for approximately seventeen hours straight, and I'm sorry, but our game is much superior." I nod triumphantly.
"I agree, mate, but if you're here, then you roll up to the table and eat. But in all honesty, I don't believe I'll ever understand the obsession with sweet potatoes covered in sticky marshmallows."
