Page 5 of The Flight Risk

“I’m glad you think she’s a good kid because I have a huge favor to ask you.” I’m batting a thousand when it comes to the reason Tara ever wants to meet up with me in person. She always asks for a favor.

I dip a fry in ranch dressing. “What’s the favor?”

“Well, as you know, Hunter has a very high profile job. One of his top clients lives in Paris.”

Paris. I’ve always wanted to go to Paris. My favorite book series as a kid was Madeline. My goal is to go within the next few years. With a teacher’s salary, it’s kind of hard to save for a trip like that and I don’t know if I want to experience it alone. Also, I’m deathly afraid of flying.

“Wow, that’s nice.” I raise my eyebrows and take a bite of my burger. “I don’t really see where the favor is coming into play yet.”

“I’m getting to it.” She pushes around her massive salad. “Hunter has asked me to go with him to Paris.”

“That’s great, Tara! I’m sure Lottie is so excited!”

Her face contorts. “That’s the favor. See, I really want to go by myself and Lottie just started high school this year and I really don’t want to pull her out of school and have her be in a foreign country. So…I was wondering if you would take her in and be like her guardian for the year.”

I stop mid-chew. “You’re just going to leave Lottie?”

“What other choice do I have?”

“Um, I don’t know, Tara, it seems like the only other option would be to not go. Or better yet, take her with you.”

“Tess, you don’t understand. I had Lottie when I was so young. I never really got to have a life of my own. It’s always been about Lottie. I am finally happy with a man that I’m in love with. It’s my turn to be able to live my life for me. I mean, don’t you want me to be happy?”

Guilt settles at the pit of my stomach. Of course I want my sister to find the love of her life. But does it really come at the cost of pawning your only daughter over to her single aunt instead of including her in this happiness so she could be surrounded by it? At the same time, I don’t want Lottie’s education to be interrupted and she told me that she already has a hard time making friends. I can’t imagine trying to find yourself and make friends in a country that speaks an entirely different language. Still, the degree to which my sister only thinks of herself is unfathomable. My role as my sister’s keeper hasn’t changed and I don’t know if it ever will.

This time is different though. I’m doing this for my niece.

“Of course I’ll take care of Lottie.”

Tara claps her hands wildly and bolts around the table to give me a huge hug. “Thank you, little sis! I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you. Plus, once I tell Lottie, I’m sure she’ll be excited about staying with her cool Aunt Tess.”

She hasn’t even talked to Lottie about this? I swear my sister can’t see past the end of her nose. She only cares about how things affect her, not anyone else.

Instead of picking a fight that I know will only end with me getting more frustrated, I ask, “So, when do you leave for Paris?”

3

It was nice to see you today, Tess.

Why the fuck did I send that stupid text? I know that she read it because it says READ 10:34 PM. Seeing Read is worse than Delivered because I know she has actually opened the text and decided not to respond. It’s been two days and it feels like an eternity. I cannot stop thinking about her.

I waddle back to the locker room, eagerly wanting to check if she has texted me back. I remove my helmet and sweat drips from my hair. I reach into my duffle and find my phone. Nothing.

“Good practice out there today, Oakley. You might be able to shut out New York tomorrow.” Jagielski pats me on the back.

I hate when my teammates say shit like that. I know they mean well and are trying to be supportive, but it’s like telling them they’re going to score a hat trick every time they go out onto the ice. The odds of that happening are very slim. Hell, I’ve only seen Tristan do it once.

There is already a lot of pressure with the weight of this team on my shoulders. I love this game with every fiber of my being. There are times, though, when it seems like everyone thinks I’m superhuman. That is the furthest thing from the truth. I am just a middle-class kid from the Chicago suburbs who has loved this game since he stepped foot onto the ice at three years old. Hockey was inevitable in my family. My dad played goalie in high school and I wanted so desperately to follow in his footsteps. He was my superhero. I still look up to my dad, and I never felt any pressure to pursue the same thing he loved. I think it’s in my DNA. There was nothing else that I wanted more than to become the best goalie in the league.

Now something else, or rather someone else, is occupying space in my mind permanently. I thought that nothing could infiltrate my brain the way Tess Lewis has.

I remove my jersey and part of my gear without responding to Jagielski. Apparently, my teammates don’t like silence. “So, she hasn’t responded yet, huh?”

“What? How did you…”

“Lawson told me. Why don’t you text her again? Maybe she didn’t see it.”

“Oh, she saw it and I’m not going to text her again. Don’t want her to think I’m a psycho. That is definitely not the vibe I’m going for.”