whirlwind talk-show tour touting his newest best-selling cookbook? Would he be living in a chateau in Europe cooking for a wealthy family? Hell, he’d probably own his own restaurant. If he continued to focus on healthy eating for athletes, maybe he’d move to Los Angeles and open a cafe or catering business there.
I ground my back teeth together wholly unsure whether I’d ever want a life of post-retirement leisure if it meant saying goodbye to Michael Vining.
6
Mikey
I was still rubbing sleep out of my eyes when Tiller ushered me into the passenger seat of the big SUV I’d rented. The leather was cold against the fabric of my jeans, and I shivered inside the big puffy coat I’d hastily pulled on the minute my suitcase had come spinning off the carousel. Tiller chuckled and closed the door, trapping some of his exhalation vapor inside with me.
It was cold as balls.
I was a Texas boy born and raised, but I actually liked visiting places that had a true winter season. Every time we’d visited Tiller’s parents in Denver, I’d parked myself in front of their real wood fireplace and toasted my socked feet on the stone hearth until I couldn’t stand the heat anymore. I relished the chance to truly enjoy a hot chocolate without sweating my ass off.
“You got an address?” Tiller asked, hopping in the driver’s seat and slamming his door closed.
I pulled up the Waze app and clicked on the address I’d already preprogrammed. The smooth voice began navigating Tiller out of the area. We drove out of the airport I’d always thought looked like a giant white caterpillar and began making our way toward the city of Denver.
“You sure you don’t want to stop by your parents’ place?” I teased.
“Funny man. Remind me to get you a Comedy Central Standup Special for your birthday,” he grunted.
The heat finally kicked in enough for me to pull off my coat. I noticed Tiller hadn’t even put his on yet which was either a testament to his killer metabolism or his Colorado blood. Either way, he pretty much slayed the black sweater and faded blue jeans he had on. The arms of the sweater were pushed up, revealing a corded forearm still tanned from all the time spent outside in the long Texas fall. When my eyes traveled down his arm to his big hand on the wheel, I suddenly realized he was driving one-handed.
That jolted me wide-awake.
“You’re driving with a clipped wing!” I yelped. “Pull over and let me drive. Jesus, Tiller.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re in a sling, for god’s sake.” My heart hammered in my chest. “Why didn’t you let me drive?”
He glanced over at me with a smirk. “Uh, because you were still drooling in your sleep at the rental desk?”
I didn’t remember going to a rental desk, so maybe he had a point. “Fine, then pull over at a coffee shop and we’ll kill two birds.”
Tiller shook his head. “I’ve been driving these roads for a million years. This is my hometown, remember?”
I stopped arguing but only because I knew he’d want to stop soon enough for coffee himself. Now that I’d made the suggestion, he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it. Sure enough, when we got to the far side of Denver, he pulled off the interstate and found a Starbucks. I pretended not to hear him order himself a sugar- and cream-filled monstrosity before he rattled off my skinny chai latte order like he’d done it a million times. When he added a slice of pumpkin bread and a blueberry scone, I decided to forgive him for almost killing us with the one-armed driving stunt.
We switched places and got back on the road. It took us almost three hours to get to Aster Valley, Colorado, but the time passed quickly with talk of what Tiller still needed to get his friends and family for Christmas, what we wanted to get for Sam—who was next to impossible to buy for since he didn’t like owning more than would fit in the saddlebags on his motorcycle—and whether or not Tiller’s teammates had started planning their big end-of-season trip yet.
When we crested the final mountain pass, a small, snow-covered town appeared in the valley below. Lights twinkled from shops and houses in the shadows between the peaks on either side while the top of the mountain to the east still shone with the last traces of the warm glow of sunset on snow. I felt like we’d