Page 78 of The Grumpy Defenseman
“Shiny is still shiny,” I said.
“Sure,” Lena said. “A city you’ve never lived in. A number that sounds impressive until you realize you’d be spending it alone in a condo with a view of a mountain you don’t care about.”
She nodded toward the living room, where Tommy was arguing with his own architecture.
“You’ve never chased fame. Dad drove a Zamboni, and you were happy. You’ve always chased the same thing: purpose, identity, and a place where you belong.”
Sam had been pursuing it as well, coming from the other side. She was fleeing from a man who weaponized her possessions against her, and over three years, she had crafted a life carefully structured so no one could exploit her again. I defended what was mine by locking it down; she defended herself by keeping distance.
Same load-bearing wall.
“What now?” I asked.
“Now you decide on purpose,” she said. “The window, Sam, the team—none of that chooses for you. You choose.”
I opened my eyes.
“That sounds exhausting.”
“It is,” she said. “Being an adult is terrible. I do not recommend it.”
That almost made me smile.
Almost.
She stepped forward and put her hand on the side of my face, the way she had when I was nine and had fallen through pond ice and tried to pretend I was not shaking.
“You are allowed to want home,” she said.
The words moved through me slowly.
Home.
Not the contract.
Not the version of myself I could carry into a room and have people respect because it was expensive enough.
Home.
Lena loweredher hand.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. Tommy’s voice carried from the living room, narrating some structural crisis with the moat. Ranger stayed pressed against my shin like he had decided I was not cleared for independent standing.
“You decide, little brother,” Lena said. “A destination and a parade. Or a home and a life.”
The answer settled in my chest. Not heavy. Clarifying.
“Stay for dinner,” she said.
“I should call Mark.”
“You should eat first. Men make terrible decisions when they’re hungry and convinced they’re tragic.”
Ranger barked once, as if seconding the motion.
I sat at my sister’s kitchen table while she put a plate in front of me, and Tommy explained, at length, why the Frost Bank Center moat still needed improvements.
The window had closed, but I had been the one who stood still long enough to let it.
