I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. I held eye contact for a moment, then nodded and quickly changed the subject. “Are you sure you don’t need a ride to the airport tomorrow?”
“At six a.m.? I did you a favor and called for a ride.”
“All right. Have a safe trip. Say hi to your family for me.”
Jase smiled. “Take care of yourself, Sammy.”
I drove home with a heavy heart and the same familiar melancholy I got every damn year. Good-byes were hard, and this year my injury exacerbated everything. I didn’t have a place to be or anyone who really cared if I showed up. If I really wanted to, I could fly to Detroit, Dallas, or New Orleans and watch one of the games I should have been scheduled to officiate on Thanksgiving. I’d opted for a quiet few days in the mountains instead.
Stupid move. I didn’t want to be alone with me. I was terrible company. Other than miss Linc, what the fuck was I gonna do in a cabin by myself for four days?
I scowled when “Silver Bells” piped through the speakers of my Tesla and quickly turned off my radio with more force than necessary. Silver fucking bells, gold fucking balls. If there was any way to skip ahead to January, I’d take it in a heartbeat.
Such was my curmudgeon state of mind as I veered onto my street and spotted Chet hefting a duffel bag into his SUV.
I pulled up to the curb behind him, unthinking, and met him on the sidewalk.
“Need any help?”
He spun to face me with his hand over his heart. “Oh, goodness. It’s you.”
“It’s me,” I confirmed lamely, pointing at his luggage. “I thought you weren’t leaving for the mountains till Tuesday.”
“That’s correct.” He pushed his hair away from his eyes and smiled. “Tuesday morning at six a.m.”
“Six a.m. Jesus, what’s up with the early-bird hours? Lincoln and Jase are heading to the airport at the same time tomorrow.”
“Oh. No wonder you look forlorn.”
I scoffed. “Forlorn? First of all, my great aunt was the last person I heard use that word, and she was ninety at the time. And second, no, I don’t. I look perfectly normal.”
“If you say so.” Chet hummed, pointing at my sling. “How is your shoulder today?”
“Good. It’s not one hundred percent, but it’s getting better.” I slipped the sling off and flexed my bicep. “I’ve been advised not to lift anything heavy. Not too worried about it.”
“That may be an issue on your upcoming sojourn. I’m happy to help you with your luggage. Are you packed?”
“It’s Sunday, science guy. I’m not even gonna think about pulling out my backpack till Tuesday morning.”
He set one hand on his hip and held up two fingers, frowning hard enough that his brows met the frame of his glasses. “Two things: Science guy? Backpack?”
I shrugged. “Sure, everyone needs a nickname. My friends call me Sammy, Linc is short for Lincoln, and I’m not about to call you Dorito. I might be in the minority, but I don’t like Doritos. I like you, though, so…science guy. If you don’t like it, I’ll come up with something else.”
“Oh. Okay.” A pleased expression ghosted over his face before he remembered his second item of concern. “Item number two. You’ll need more than a backpack. I can help you lift your suitcase if you’d like.”
“Thanks. I can handle it.” I smiled at the idea of Chet schlepping my bag. “I pack light. I’ll bring a change of undies or two, some socks and slippers, and call it a day.”
Yeah, I was yanking his chain. I couldn’t help it. I had a feeling his reaction would be worth it.
Chet wrinkled his nose, then opened and closed his mouth a few times, sputtering. “I hope you’re joking.”
I bit the inside of my cheek before finally losing the battle with the ridiculous grin I’d been holding in check since I pulled in front of his house. “Nah. I’ll be fine. I’m a travel pro. I know what I’m doing.”
“Obviously not,” he retorted. “According to my sister, the low has been fifteen degrees Fahrenheit over this past weekend, and it’s going to get colder. You’ll need boots and a real winter coat. It’s supposed to snow Tuesday afternoon. A big storm, too. That’s why I’m leaving so early. If I were you, I’d consider an earlier departure as well. And a suitcase. It’s important to pack layers. Bring a few sweaters, a sweatshirt, sweatpants or flannel pajama bottoms, if you prefer.”
“Thanks. I’ll be fine.”
He gaped at me in frustration. “What time are you leaving?”
I shrugged carelessly. “Noon?”
“That is not a wise plan.” He sighed, gnawing his bottom lip.
“I’ll be fine. Will it make you feel better if I leave at nine o’clock?”
“Not really.”
“Well, that’s the earliest I can do. I need caffeine and I know myself. I won’t have enough coffee in my system to concentrate on the road until at least midmorning.”