Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 52183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
“Would you? He’s a little heavy.”
Sliding my arms around the dog to pick him up, I groan. “A little? This guy’s a tank.”
“Gram gives him lots of treats.”
I carry Mr. Darcy upstairs, where Molly wraps him in blankets as Gram heats up meatloaf for him. He’s got a good thing going here.
“I can’t thank you enough,” Molly says to me. “Really. Thank you.”
“I’m glad he’s back home.”
“Can I get you some dry socks or anything? A blanket? You can take a hot shower if you want.”
“I’ll take one at home. I’ll let you guys get him settled.”
She nods. “So I guess I’ll be in touch.”
“Okay.”
I take her hand in mine and give it a little squeeze. All I want is to take a hot shower and then burrow under a mountain of blankets with her, but that’ll have to wait until she’s done with the story.
Damn. That day can’t come soon enough.
Chapter Eleven
Molly
* * *
A leaner, younger version of Kit smiles on the screen of my desktop computer in the Gazette newsroom. The photo is from the player roster for his hockey team during his sophomore year of college at Penn State. He looks a lot different now, with longer hair and a beard, but his smile and the warmth in his eyes are exactly the same.
“Lynch, why don’t I have that story about cuts in the treasurer’s office yet?” Lou barks at me as he approaches my desk.
“I filed it an hour ago,” I say absently, not looking away from my screen.
“Oh.” His response is gruff. “Well, when I went to lunch it wasn’t there.”
He stops by my desk, a half-eaten giant chocolate chip cookie in hand. I don’t tell him he’s got chocolate on his cheek; I’ll leave him to discover that himself.
“It’s there now.”
Grunting, he looks at my computer screen. “What are you working on?”
“The story about Kit Carter.”
“Who?”
“The hockey player. For the special section?”
“Oh, right.” He takes a bite of his cookie and keeps talking. “And you’re sending me a digest of the next city council agenda later today?”
“Already done.”
“I’ll go take a look.”
I take off my reading glasses and look at him. “There’s not a lot going on. I don’t think there’s even going to be discussion of the cuts in the treasurer’s office.”
“I want you there anyway,” Lou says.
“I’m going. Just wanted you to know it looks like a quiet one.”
“Mail call,” one of the newsroom interns says as he drops a manila envelope on my desk.
“How’s the hockey player story coming?” Lou asks me.
“Good. I’m planning to start writing the story this afternoon, if people will stop talking to me.”
He scoffs. “Are you telling me to fuck off, Lynch?”
“I’m trying to.”
With a chuckle, he walks away. I click the icon for the Gazette’s archive on my desktop, searching for Kit’s name. There are so many stories with his name in them, and lots of photos of him playing hockey. In one photo, he’s on his knees on the ice during a game, blood pouring from his nose onto the ice. In another, he and his teammate Easy stand together with their sticks in the air, celebrating a big win.
I’ve looked Kit up in our archives before, but there are still many stories and blog posts from our sports writers I haven’t read. I click on a column by one of our sports columnists that catches my eye.
Blaze player spends Christmas at hospital
For the third year in a row, Chicago Blaze winger Kit Carter spent both Christmas Eve and Christmas day at the pediatric wing of the Chicago Children’s Hospital. Hospital sources say he brought baked goods for all the staffers and handed out video game consoles, teddy bears and other gifts to patients and their families.
“We weren’t expecting any presents this year,” said Maria Landon, whose daughter Chloe is being treated for leukemia complications at the hospital.
Landon said money is tight since she had to quit her job to be with her daughter during treatment. She and her family were planning to spend a quiet Christmas together watching movies and playing games in her daughter’s room at the hospital.
“When Kit passed out those gifts to my kids, I was so happy I cried,” Landon said. “I couldn’t believe it when he gave my husband and I gifts, too. He really is our Christmas angel.”
Carter declined to comment about his visit to the hospital.
The story should give me warm fuzzies. Kit couldn’t be a better man unless he moonlighted as a doctor inoculating babies in third-world countries. He’s a good guy, from every single thing I’ve seen, read and heard about him.
But the reporter in me rarely takes things at face value. Why didn’t Kit spend Christmas with his family? The story is dated nearly a year ago, so if he didn’t go home for Christmas last month, that makes four years in a row.