Shame the Devil (Portland Devils #3) - Rosalind James Page 0,34

he had.

After a while, she said, “That’s a mated pair of great horned owls. You can tell from how deep the sound is, and how strong. No other owl sounds quite like that. They’re calling to each other. They mate for life. Isn’t that a beautiful thing?”

Harlan didn’t say, “Yes.” He wasn’t sure it was such a beautiful thing.

“You hear how the voice near us is higher, and the other one’s lower?” his mom said. “That’s the male. He’s got a bigger voice box. They’re finding each other, telling each other, ‘I’m over here.’ And maybe, ‘I’m heading out again,’ because they’ll be hunting some more tonight. Who knows what else they’re saying? Why do they talk so long? Maybe they enjoy it. Maybe it’s conversation. What do you think?”

“Hey, Joann,” Harlan heard from inside the house, “you planning to get that dinner on the table anytime this century?”

She didn’t answer. She told Harlan, “Some people think that’s a scary sound. To me, it reminds me that spring’s coming. It’s cold and dark and snowy out here, and it feels like it’ll never stop being cold and dark and snowy, but there’s still life all around, under the snow. That’s the good thing about winter. It always ends up turning to spring.”

And then she’d gone in the house to put dinner on the table.

She’d found her spring, he guessed. Too bad she’d left the rest of them stuck in winter.

He dialed the phone.

“Axel Kristiansen,” the voice boomed out.

“Hey, Dad.” Harlan forced his body to relax. “How’re you doing?” He wished once again that his dad would let his little sister have her own phone. That way, he could’ve just called her and bypassed all this.

His father said, “You calling to apologize? To tell me you’ve remembered what you owe me?” His voice was just a little bit slurred.

Breathe. In and out.

“Nope,” Harlan said. “I called to talk to Annabelle.” He left it there.

“What’s everybody’s going to think,” Axel said, “if I tell them you’re not coming for the Super Bowl after all? And not only that—what about the thing I have planned for tomorrow out at the dealership? We’ve got half the town coming for that. Am I supposed to tell everybody it’s off, because my son, the big hero, can’t be bothered to show up and support his home town? Even after he lost the game?”

“Tell them what you want,” Harlan said. “I already told you I wasn’t coming.”

“This town made you.” His father’s voice was rising now. “Every coach who took his time to help you, every teammate you ever had, every business that sponsored you. Don’t you think you owe them?” Harlan didn’t answer, and he went on. “Hell, don’t you think you owe me? Who went to bat for you with the coach when he didn’t want to play you, sixth grade? Who kicked your ass when you got lazy and made you get back out there and run another two miles? Who worked his ass off for all of you after your mom ran off? All so you could get what I got cheated out of. Now you’ve got it, and you think you did it all by yourself, don’t even think you owe me the courtesy of showing up for an event that’ll put food on the table. What the hell kind of gratitude is that?”

There was so much Harlan could have said, but there was no point. Axel’s voice had gotten even louder as he talked. How many beers down was he now? Six at least. No point, not after six. So instead, he just said, “Not gonna happen, Dad. Put Annabelle on, will you?”

“Are you on your way, or what?” Axel said.

“No,” Harlan said. “I’m not on my way. I’m not coming.” No point dressing it up. He said again, “Put Annabelle on.”

“Go to hell,” his father said. And hung up.

Harlan sat a minute, until his heart rate slowed. Then he got up, drank a glass of water, grabbed the phone again, and emailed his sister.

How’re you doing? I heard great horned owls hooting tonight and saw a bison. I’m in Wyoming. Just as cold as North Dakota, but more animals.

No answer. She was probably at a friend’s. He hoped so.

He needed to move, but he was stuck here. There wasn’t even a gym. What kind of hotel didn’t even have a treadmill and a universal machine? Failing that, he needed a drink, but since thinking that you needed a drink was