Dean fidgets the whole way through.
His inability to sit still is almost comforting by now, to be honest.
When we step out through Arrivals, I'm looking for Millers. Any Millers. Dean's dad said he wasn't sure he could come pick us up himself, but Devin might be able to come instead. So I'm searching for Miller golden-brown hair, Miller coffee eyes, and a Miller Smile.
Dean nudges my shoulder to get my attention.
"Isn't that your brother?" He points.
I frown, spotting Elliott leaning against his car. He sees us too, and gestures for us to approach. When we reach him, he pops the trunk open.
"Had a nice flight?" My brother asks, helping Dean with his luggage.
"It was fine," Dean says. "Don't really like flying, to be honest. It's sort of tight."
"I can imagine," Elliott says, then looks at me. "Eli?"
"It was fine."
We drive in silence for a few minutes, me in the passenger seat, Dean at the back with his headphones on. I look out the window, but I can still feel Elliott's gaze shifting from the road to me. I close my eyes, like I'm ready to doze off. Elliott turns the radio on after that, to drown the silence, just as we cross state lines.
Pullman-Moscow Regional Airport is the closest airport to Brunson, about four miles west of Moscow, Idaho, but situated in Washington state.
In a few days, Dean and I will be driving back into Washington to play the All-Star game in Seattle. Dean's oldest brother Daniel is visiting this weekend, though, with the two kids and pregnant wife. So we're due a visit home, however short it has to be.
Elliott lowers the volume on the radio during the commercial break, clearing his throat. I keep my eyes out the window.
"Darren had work out of town and it ran a little longer than expected, so he couldn't make it," my brother says.
I look at him. "Darren?"
"Mr Miller."
"Yeah, I know Coach Miller's name."
"Right." Elliott looks back at the road.
"Dev couldn't make it?" I ask.
"He had practice with the team," Elliot says. "With the Olympics coming up, his schedule is busier."
Devin, who is Dean's youngest of three older brothers, is a member of our Olympic grade ski team.
"How's the season going?" Elliott asks.
"Good."
"All-Star game. That's kind of an honor, right?"
"Same as last year."
"Lucky this year it was close to home."
"I guess."
There's a pause.
The radio station has started to play music again, but Elliott doesn't raise the volume.
"How was Christmas?" He asks.
"Good." I look at him. "I called."
"Yeah, no. I know." He nods. "Scarlet was really bummed."
"Why?"
"Because she missed you. On the call."
"Oh."
"Yeah. She wanted to wish you a merry Christmas."
YOU ARE READING
Crack In The Ice
Random**SEQUEL TO BREAKING THE ICE** Liam Astor is home. Home where his family is. Home where is skating partner stayed. Home where he trains every day to make his Olympic dreams come true. Home, where he had to throw himself into his career, so he doesn'...
