Chasing Stanley Read Free Page B

he’d elbowed Jason out of the way. He’d been doing it ever since. For as far back as Jason could remember, the two had competed against each other in everything: grades, girls, their parents’ affection, and especially hockey.
    There wasn’t much to do in Flasher, North Dakota, but play hockey, and the twins had excelled at it. The pond on the family farm froze early and thawed late, and it wasn’t unusual for the two of them to play one-on-one for hours. In school, they played on the same team, Jason on the wing and Eric on defense. Sometimes Jason resented the way the town spoke of them as “the Mitchell Boys,” as if they were one entity rather than two individuals.
    At least they weren’t identical. Eric took after their blonde, blue-eyed mother, while Jason, with his unruly dark hair and deep-set brown eyes, was the spitting image of their father. Their only physical similarity was stature: both were big and broad. Their mom said they were built like her grandfather, who’d worked the farm until he dropped dead among the corn at ninety-one. Both boys figured out early on that with their less-than-stellar grades, the only ways out of Flasher were hockey or the military. Both had made the NHL. But of course, Eric did it first.
    Jason looked at his brother, slack-jawed as he watched the action on TV. Eric’s penchant for watching TV amazed him. “Let’s take a walk,” he suggested.
    â€œScrew that. It’s ninety-eight degrees out there. I prefer air-conditioned splendor, thank you very much.”
    Jason frowned, restless. All his life he’d dreamed of coming to New York. He wanted to be outside so the city could soak into his skin—its sounds, its smells, even the taste of the air. Instead he was cooped up in his new apartment with his brother, his dog, and his TV.
    Stanley woke up, and after a big yawn that sounded like a creaky door opening, began licking Eric’s feet. Eric jerked them away. “Jesus! Why does he do that?”
    â€œHe’s just telling you he loves you. Don’t be such a wuss.”
    â€œI still can’t believe you brought him here. You should have left him with Mom and Dad.”
    Jason looked down at Stanley, who’d taken Eric’s rejection in stride. That Eric could even suggest leaving Stanley behind was proof Eric had no clue about the sacred bond between a man and his dog. Jason had bought Stanley as a pup in Minnesota. They’d grown up together. Stanley was his rock. When Jason had a bad night on the ice, he had the comfort of knowing that when he’d get home, Stanley would be thrilled to see him, and it would lift his spirits. There was nothing that relaxed Jason more than hanging out with Stanley in the backyard playing fetch or taking Stanley swimming in his parents’ pond. Of course, now he didn’t have a yard. Or a pond.
    â€œDo you know if there’s a dog run or anything around here?”
    Eric scratched his arm. “No idea.”
    â€œHow long have you been living here?”
    Eric looked at him. “Three years. But you may have noticed I don’t have a dog. I’m not needy like you.”
    Jason gave Eric the finger and bent down to pet Stanley. Delilah would know if there was a dog run. He pulled her business card from his back pocket and looked at it. Delilah Gould. You didn’t hear names like that in North Dakota, or in Minnesota, for that matter.
    â€œWhatcha got there?” Eric plucked the card from Jason’s fingers. “ You thinkin’ of boarding Stan the Man?”
    â€œI’m going to have to during road trips, aren’t I?” Jason took Delilah’s business card from his brother and slipped it back into his pocket.
    â€œWhat did you do with him in Minnesota?”
    â€œDavid Kavli’s little sister would stay with him at the house for twenty-five bucks a day.” Kavli was one of Jason’s teammates on the