Page 300 of Across His Line

Not here’s what you do. Not have Sato send it to me. Not don’t sign anything until I see it.

What do you think.

“I’m signing,” I say.

Another pause.

“What’s the AHL number?” he says.

I tell him.

“Is it two-way all three years?”

“Two years two-way. The third one’s one-way if I hit the games-played number in the second year.”

He’s quiet. And I can hear him, on the other end, realizing. That I know. That I read it.

“Then sign it,” he says. “Congratulations, Rafe.”

We hang up.

I sit there with the phone for a second.

Then I call Tessa. She picks up on the second ring. I can hear music in the background, so I know she’s at home.

“They offered,” I say.

Silence.

“Are you serious?” she says.

“Yeah.”

“Are you signing?”

“Yeah.”

“Rafe.”

Her voice breaks. And the line’s quiet.

“Tess.”

“You did it.” She’s crying. She’s laughing. “Sorry. Oh my God, Rafe, you did it. You got it.”

“Yeah.”

She breathes. I hear her get her voice back.

“So when do you have to be back?” she says. “For them. When do you move?”

And there it is again.

When do you move?

I hear it this time. The same thing from the hotel mirror. When would you leave. Where would you go.

You.