“Wonderful. We’re enjoying having Aiden here but miss you so much. Owen and the girls are here for the weekend.”
She was so excited when my little brother decided to come home for the summer. He’ll be a college senior this year at the University of Hartford in Connecticut and plans to move to California after graduation. Honestly, I was shocked when he took a job in our hometown for the summer instead of an internship in California or New York. He is getting a degree in audio engineering and wants to be a sound designer formovies or television. He’s a master at sound design and has been working with local bands since high school.
Owen lives in New Jersey about an hour from our parents. He spends at least one weekend a month with them. He works for an insurance company and is able to work from home most of the time. It allows him flexibility to be available for his girls. Raising two daughters alone isn’t an easy task, but Owen is a great father. His wife filed for divorce three years ago when their youngest was only six months old. She didn’t even try to get custody of the girls. She’ll call him a couple of times a year and ask to visit them. Owen never denies her request. I’m not sure I would be so nice after everything she put him through.
“I’m glad your house is full. I miss you guys, too.”
“How is Miami? Is practice going well?” she asks.
“Miami is hot. Practice is going great. The team looks good, so we should be more than ready by September.”
“That’s good news, son,” Dad adds, joining Mom on the call. I love that she always puts me on speaker phone, and they all join the conversation.
“Hey, Dad. Hi Aiden and Owen, how’s life?”
“Pretty good. Looking forward to senior year,” Aiden says.
“Busy, but I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Owen adds, and I can hear the smile in his voice. He loves being a father more than anything in the world.
“Are my nieces there?”
“Hi, Uncle Isaac,” Katie squeals with a giggle.
“Hi,” Kennedy whispers. She’s the shyest three-year-old I’ve ever met, but Katie makes up for it by being the loudest five-year-old this side of the Mississippi.
“Hey, baby girls. Uncle Isaac misses you so much.”
Talking to my family is always the highlight of my day. I don’t speak to them every day, but we do talk several times aweek. I continue the conversation with my family for the entire twenty-minute drive to my modest house. I live in a gated community for safety reasons, but I bought a small three-bedroom house. It’s just me, so I don’t need a lot of room, but I like having extra bedrooms when my family visits. They all try to make it down for at least one game each season. I look forward to seeing them in a couple of months. It sucks not being able to spend much time with my family and missing most of the major holidays, but that’s the life of an NFL player and one I refuse to trade it for anything.
THREE
EVAN
As I drive through the security gate and into the employee parking lot, nerves eat at me. I spent the first twenty-seven years of my life living in the same house with my parents. I didn’t even leave town for school, attending the local college. Here I am, starting a new life more than thirteen hundred miles from the only home I’ve ever known. The past two weeks felt more like a vacation than a real move. Today, that changes. Now, it’s real. This is my new life. The feeling of sheer loneliness washes over me. It’s been building for a few days. The longer I’m in Miami the more relaxed I should feel, but instead, I feel more and more lonely and out of place.
Pulling into the first space I find, I check to make sure I have my keys, wallet, and phone. I’m infamous for leaving crap behind. After gathering strength I don’t feel, I get out of the car, locking it behind me and heading for the employee entrance. My predecessor will be here for the next week, training me before she leaves for her new job somewhere on the west coast.
I hit the buzzer and wait to be let inside. I double check the instructions on my phone. A loud buzz sounds then a click indicating the door is unlocked. Tentatively, I open the door then take the hallway to the left and start reading door numbers. When I get to 108, the door is open and a petite woman with graying hair is sitting behind the desk closest to the door.
“Good morning, you must be Mr. Nichols,” she says with a bright smile, offering me her hand.
Shaking it, I respond, “Yes, but please call me Evan.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Evan. I’m Hope Masters, Sandy Covington’s assistant and soon to be your assistant.”
“It’s great to meet you, too. Do you prefer Ms. Masters or Hope?”
“Hope, please. Most of us go by our first names around here.”
“Excellent,” I agree. I prefer first names. Using last names seems too formal and that is not my style.
“Let me show you around. For now, this will be your desk,” she starts, pointing to a large desk by the window already set up with a laptop. “Here is a packet of information Sandy and I put together for you. It has all your basic information, including passwords and how to change them so you can get into your computer, the food service sites, and other pertinent information. Feel free to read through it at your leisure. Sandy and I will be going through everything in the folder over the next week but thought it would be nice to have it printed as well.”
“Yes, thank you. I’m sure I’ll be referencing this folder for a few months until I get the lay of the land.”
Taking out a set of keys, she opens the door on the opposite side of the room and leads me inside. “This is the conference room where we hold our monthly food service meetings.The next one is on the fourth. Sandy will help prepare for that meeting and lead it with you. Beginning in September, you will lead those meetings, but don’t worry, I’ll be here if you have any questions.” Locking the door behind us, she leads me to the other side of the large office and knocks on the door.
“Come in,” a voice calls from the other side.