Page 6 of Off the Post

Because let’s face it, my brother is a player and man-whore. Tanner likes everything fast—cars, hockey games, relationships. To be fair, I’ve had temporary henna tattoos that have lasted longer than anyone he’s ever dated. No slow burns for him.

I just call him Speedy.

When he offered up his place for me to stay, he promised to be a good boy. Those were his exact words. But regardless of that promise—for whatever that’s worth—I’m not quite sure I can live with a twenty-six-year-old man-child. If he’s anything like he was in our teens, he probably still leaves the toilet seat up, never puts away dirty dishes, and likes to play classic heavy metal music at one in the morning.

Now that I’m nearly done with my unpacking, I plunk down on the couch and take in the modern, open-concept condo that overlooks downtown Vancouver. The view from his floor-to-ceiling windows is breathtaking, as is the glass-encased pool deck just outside the door. I’ve only been to Vancouver once before, when I attended a game with my mom and Camille, but Tanner wasn’t living in this place yet. I had no idea he was secretly living in the lap of luxury.

Ernie slinks around the corner of the couch, rubbing against the beautiful, soft leather, and offers me a purr of approval. I bend down and scratch behind his ears, and he purrs harder, rubbing against my leg in response.

“Don’t get too used to this, Ernie,” I warn, running a hand down his back and up his tail before releasing it as he begins to investigate the new smells. “This is only until we find a place we can afford on our own.”

I’ve promised myself that we’ll only be here a month or two. Once I have a few paychecks in the bank, I’ll have enough for a deposit, I’m sure. Right now, I’m broke as fuck. My credit cards are maxed and until I get that first paycheck, I’m having to beg for handouts from my ATM of a brother.

My plan was to rent a storage locker for all my stuff, but Tanner said he had enough space in his storage unit in his garage for me to use. My brother is nothing but generous.

I rub my shoulder to ease my tense muscles and then notice the hot tub out on the pool deck. It’s in a semi-enclosed space to ensure privacy, and all I want to do right now is find my swimsuit and jump in.

But that will have to wait. I need to go check the food situation in my brother’s kitchen because I plan to make us dinner tonight.

A peek into a pantry verifies that he keeps his kitchen well-stocked. My plan is to contribute with groceries and cooking while I’m here since Tanner has absolutely forbidden me from paying any rent but also has never been much into making his own meals.

While I’m not a winner of Top Chef, I have learned how to whip something up on a tight budget. My guess is that Tanner probably has some sort of meal delivery service.

I confirm this assumption when I open his freezer and find a dozen or more frozen dinners, all labeled to identify the contents. I pick one up to read the description: Ground turkey and sweet potato bowls.

Hmm. Very healthy selection.

I suppose that’s the general consensus for diets of professional hockey players. Tanner has to eat carb-friendly and high-protein meals both when he’s playing and during the offseason to stay in shape. Which means no junk food for me while I’m living here.

I put the food back in the freezer and leave the kitchen to head down one of two hallways, to where my new bedroom is located. When I first entered the apartment, I found the room that was to become mine from the note Tanner had left on the door. It read:

This bed is yours! And it even has clean sheets. I’m such a good brother.

Oh geez. My brother, always so full of himself.

A warm body presses on my leg, and Ernie looks up at me with his green eyes as if to say, Can I? I give him a nod. He jumps up onto the bed and makes himself at home.

“Good boy, Ernie. Just remember, this place belongs to Tanner, so you have to be nice to him.”

I sit next to him on the bed and roll my hand down his back. His soft mewls are comforting and make me feel at home.

Just then, I hear my phone ring from somewhere in the room. I know it’s my mom calling because it’s the ringtone I assigned specifically for her. It’s Stewie from Family Guy, his annoying voice calling out Mom. Mom. Mom. Mommy.

I follow the sound and find it under an empty box.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Well, there she is! My daughter who could’ve been lying in a ditch somewhere for all I know because she never called me to tell me she made it to Vancouver.”

Oops. I guess I deserve that Mom tone. I did indeed forget to call her when I got to Tanner’s apartment.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. But here I am. We made it.”

I flop back down on the bed, allowing space for Ernie to curl his fluffy body up next to mine, then check the time on my phone and realize what a long day I’ve had already. It’s after six p.m. Pacific Time. My mom still lives in upstate New York, so it’s getting close to her bedtime.

“Did your brother help with all your unloading and unpacking?” she asks, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. She’s known Tanner all his life and loves him all the same, despite his ridiculous character and long list of practical shortcomings. “And how did Ernie react to meeting him?”

I chuckle. “Well, I wouldn’t know because Tanner is still out golfing and hasn’t met Ernie yet.”