Where my story will begin, I hope!
|Sebastian Petitjean, a forward on the indoor Charlotte Gold soccer team, received word from New York that his father was ill, and it would be prudent for him to return. Immediately, he hoped onto a plane to New York City, from there he could take a commuter into Albany. One of his sisters would pick him up and drive him to the hospital.
On the initial flight, his worry about his father turned into a feeling that he was being watched. Whenever he looked up from his book, though, no one was watching. As he descended the stairs at JFK, he was still feeling that someone was tracking him. During the walk to the Albany flight gate, he saw two people, business suited men, each built like football players, and as white as snow. He ducked into a bathroom quickly, allowed them to pass, and watched as they made their ways to the gate. He boarded before them, thanks to an upgrade.
The 50-minute flight was uneventful, but the anxiety about his father returned. He forgot about the two as they descended over Latham and onto the runway. In the terminal, he saw both Ronnie and Reggie waiting.
“Dad’s not that bad any longer,” the older Veronica stated. “His condition has changed for the better.”
“It was anticipated, Ronnie,” Reggie spoke. “Don’t listen to Steph. She’s dad’s favorite and worries way too much.”
“True,” the soccer player added as he grabbed his bags. “Where are you parked?” He turned as noticed that the big men were joined by two women, all four trying to avoid eye contact with him.
He shook his head and followed his sisters into the parking lot, hoping that their father was, indeed, improving.