The second floor window overlooked a parking lot near Stamford, Connecticut, off I-95. Beyond that lay one hell of a challenge. How much had changed in his life in the last twenty-four hours. Most of it not good. His phone jumped from where it sat by his hip, buzzing and blaring Jen’s name. He hated to admit he’d been waiting for her call all day, but the truth was, he had been. He’d left Gleann early that morning, heading south, high on how throwing in the games had made him feel, even if he hadn’t thrown that well. Now he looked down at her name and realized that if she’d stayed at the games, chances were he wouldn’t have picked up the stone or the sheaf fork or the caber again. He wasn’t quite sure how that made him feel. He ran his thumb over her name then touched Answer. “Hey, you.” “Hi.” It came out in a sigh, and he was thrown back two nights, to the sounds she’d made in the back of Da’s Caddy, her exhalations in his ear.
