Another long pause. This time Country spoke first. “Hi, Jenna. It’s been a minute. How’ve you been?”
Jenna breathed a laugh that morphed into static in her speaker. “Hi, Gentry. I’m good, and you? Or I guess I should call you . . . Country?” He could hear her nails tapping on her desk. “When did that start?”
“Team nickname. You don’t have to use it.”
“But it’s okay if I do? Just for ease at the office since everyone else?—”
“You mean so nobody knows you’re privy to my real name?”
“I could blame that on my internet stalking. It would seem legit. I’ve always been a purist.”
Country laughed. “Says the woman who prefers imitation maple syrup.”
“It’s thicker and—“ Jenna stopped mid-sentence. The sound of her exhale made the hairs on Country’s neck stand on end.
He swallowed hard. “You’ve been good, though?”
“Yeah. You, too?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Still working on the ranch?”
Country felt a pang like a sliver slicing under his skin as a memory rushed into his head.
“Your family doesn’t get to determine what you do for the rest of your life.” Jenna held out her arms for balance as she placed her feet heel to toe along the lip of the wooden bridge crossing the irrigation ditch.
“They’re not. I’m not staying here to work the ranch, you know that. I’m playing with the Admirals and then hopefully the Leafs in a year or two.”
“And your dad’s okay with that?”
Country lay back on the grass and propped his head up with his balled-up sweatshirt. “He’s getting used to the idea.”
“But if you weren’t playing. What would you do?” Jenna jumped from the board back to the hillside and scrambled up to lie next to him. She wrapped her arm over his chest and moulded her body to his side.
“Drummer. Pick up with a band.”
Jenna laughed. “I’m serious.”
“So am I, have you seen me with sticks in my hand?” He grinned as she reached up and turned his head to look at her, her green eyes glittering in the afternoon sun. The sight sobered him. “I’d get my own land. Run it right. Settle down and have a litter of kids.”
Jenna, still grinning, pulled herself up onto his chest. Her long blond hair tickled his cheeks. “That’s not simple, Gentry.”
“Yep.” Country’s voice was raw.
“How are your parents?” Jenna asked.
“Good. They’re good. Yours?”
“Better than we are. They started snowbirding in Yuma, Arizona right when I moved back.”
Country laughed. “That sounds like them. Your brother?”
“Fine. I think.” Her exhale sounded like static against the speaker. “So. I guess I’ll see you Thursday?”
“Yep. I’ll be there.” He couldn’t muster the energy to make a joke about Kessler or her bathtub, though he was sure it was in there.
“Sounds good. See you then.”
