Christ, Bennett wanted to forget about that disaster. He saw red every time he thought about it. “Work’s good. I can bring cameras in there now, and we’re about to start player interviews.”
“Ooh. That’s exciting. Who’s up first?”
“I . . . don’t know, actually. I had to rework the schedule a couple of times.” On top of a changing practice schedule, he also had to work around the players’ other commitments, everything from school pickup and extracurricular activities to appointments to community engagement events to media appearances. A last-minute change had landed in Bennett’s inbox again yesterday afternoon, and Fowler had modified the schedule last night while Bennett had been a fly on the wall in the Trailblazers’ locker room during last night’s game against Buffalo.
The revised schedule was probably in his emails, but Bennett had been too busy to look at it. Didn’t matter anyway. He had the same set of questions for almost everyone.
“And have you talked to Sandro yet?”
Bennett’s stomach wobbled slightly. “A bit, yeah.”
“How is he?”
“Good. He . . .” Bennett desperately wished for water to wet his dry mouth. “He looks good.”
“Yes, I know that. I can google as well as the next person. I asked how he is.”
Huffing out a laugh, Bennett strolled over to the window and stared down at the busy downtown street below. “He’s good. Doing well for himself.”
“Hm. Well, you tell him I said hi and to get rid of the maroon suit. It’s not a good color on him.”
“What maroon suit?”
“The one from the picture online.”
“What pic—You know what? Doesn’t matter. I’ll make sure he gets the message.”
“Thanks, sweetie. And listen, I know you probably need to get back to work, but I wanted to chat about Christmas if you have another few minutes.”
He checked his watch. “Sure. I haven’t booked my flight yet, though. I’m not sure where I’ll be, so I don’t know yet if I’ll need to book a flight from here or from LA.”
“That’s the thing, sweetie—I may not be here at Christmas. You remember my friend Lorraine? She lost her husband last year, and her kids are grown and doing their own thing for the holidays, so she asked me to go on a trip with her. She found a great price for an all-inclusive resort in Mexico, but . . . I know you had your heart set on coming home?—”
“Oh my god, Mom, no. Go on the trip.”
Mom made a tsking sound. “Are you sure? It feels wrong to be leaving you behind at Christmas.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Go on the trip. You deserve a vacation. You and I can do our own celebration in the new year.”
“Are you sure?” Mom repeated. “Because I’ve got to say . . .” She lowered her voice, like she was afraid someone might be listening. “The resort looks really nice. It’s right on the beach and they have a spa that looks like it’s in the middle of an oasis. They even have a special Christmas dinner and dance party on the twenty-fourth and twenty-fifth.”
“Damn,” Bennett muttered. “Can I come?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but . . . no.”
Smiling, he headed out of the room and back down the hallway. “I’ll e-transfer you some spending cash.”
Her sigh was staticky over the phone line. “Bennett. Sweetie. For the thousandth time, I don’t need your money.”
“Consider it an early Christmas present.”
“He says that as if he hasn’t already bought me a Christmas present even though it’s not even Thanksgiving yet,” Mom muttered, apparently to herself.
“I like to be prepared. How is that a bad thing?”
“One day you’re going to overprepare yourself into boredom.”
“I . . . have no idea what that means. Hey, Mom, I’ve got to go.” Bennett nodded at Fowler when he stuck his head out of their appointed meeting room and caught Bennett’s gaze. “Work calls.”
