Dean fidgets the whole way through.

His inability to sit still is almost comforting by now, to be honest.

When we step out through Arrivals, I'm looking for Millers. Any Millers. Dean's dad said he wasn't sure he could come pick us up himself, but Devin might be able to come instead. So I'm searching for Miller golden-brown hair, Miller coffee eyes, and a Miller Smile.

Dean nudges my shoulder to get my attention.

"Isn't that your brother?" He points.

I frown, spotting Elliott leaning against his car. He sees us too, and gestures for us to approach. When we reach him, he pops the trunk open.

"Had a nice flight?" My brother asks, helping Dean with his luggage.

"It was fine," Dean says. "Don't really like flying, to be honest. It's sort of tight."

"I can imagine," Elliott says, then looks at me. "Eli?"

"It was fine."

We drive in silence for a few minutes, me in the passenger seat, Dean at the back with his headphones on. I look out the window, but I can still feel Elliott's gaze shifting from the road to me. I close my eyes, like I'm ready to doze off. Elliott turns the radio on after that, to drown the silence, just as we cross state lines.

Pullman-Moscow Regional Airport is the closest airport to Brunson, about four miles west of Moscow, Idaho, but situated in Washington state.

In a few days, Dean and I will be driving back into Washington to play the All-Star game in Seattle. Dean's oldest brother Daniel is visiting this weekend, though, with the two kids and pregnant wife. So we're due a visit home, however short it has to be.

Elliott lowers the volume on the radio during the commercial break, clearing his throat. I keep my eyes out the window.

"Darren had work out of town and it ran a little longer than expected, so he couldn't make it," my brother says.

I look at him. "Darren?"

"Mr Miller."

"Yeah, I know Coach Miller's name."

"Right." Elliott looks back at the road.

"Dev couldn't make it?" I ask.

"He had practice with the team," Elliot says. "With the Olympics coming up, his schedule is busier."

Devin, who is Dean's youngest of three older brothers, is a member of our Olympic grade ski team.

"How's the season going?" Elliott asks.

"Good."

"All-Star game. That's kind of an honor, right?"

"Same as last year."

"Lucky this year it was close to home."

"I guess."

There's a pause.

The radio station has started to play music again, but Elliott doesn't raise the volume.

"How was Christmas?" He asks.

"Good." I look at him. "I called."

"Yeah, no. I know." He nods. "Scarlet was really bummed."

"Why?"

"Because she missed you. On the call."

"Oh."

"Yeah. She wanted to wish you a merry Christmas."

I nod, not sure what to say.

In the back, Dean removes his headphones and leans forward between our two seats.

"You guys wanna see a picture of Ellie with Damien and Daisy?" He asks excitedly, already moving his phone so we can see the screen.

Ellie is Daniel Miller's wife. She's around Dan's age and works as a librarian. Not at the moment, though, on account of being thirty-nine weeks pregnant. 

Coach and Mrs Miller got pregnant right after high school. For that reason, Dan is ten years older than Dean and moved out before Dean turned twelve. Which means he has a tendency to treat Dean like the family baby. Which he was. Until Damien was born.

Damien, Daniel's oldest son and Dean's first nephew, is around ten now. Dan and Ellie married very suddenly before announcing there was a baby on the way. Owen and I were invited to the wedding too.

Daisy is the youngest and I still remember when she was born. It was around the time my parents died, so Dean didn't talk about it much. She's six and a half now.

On the picture Dean shows us, Ellie is sitting on the Miller couch, about as pregnant as a human can be without bursting, with an arm around each of her kids.

Damien looks so much like Dean at that age that it almost makes me dizzy. Daisy is very much a carbon copy of her mother - thin blonde hair, pale blue eyes, wearing that grimace-smile kids do before they figure out how to properly smile.

"The kids look good," I say.

"I wish Dan and Ellie hadn't decided to keep the baby's sex a secret," Dean says. "I made a bet with Dev. I want another nephew."

"What difference does it make?" I ask.

Dean shrugs. "If my brothers and I all have boys we can make our own private hockey league."

"You can do that with girls too," I say.

Dean wrinkles his nose. "I don't want to teach the boys to be rough with girls."

I smile. "It's probably fine if you teach the girls to be rough back at them. Have you seen Leah Astor and her friends on the ice?"

Dean grins. "Yeah. Maybe you're right. I'll teach them all how to play."

"How's your other brother?" Elliott asks. "David?"

"Good, I think. He said he might visit mom and dad for Christmas, but then he didn't come. Not sure why," Dean says.

"Your mother mentioned the in-laws surprising them with a visit in Boise," my brother says.

I frown. "You saw Dean's parents for Christmas?"

Elliott looks at me. "Yeah. They invited me and Scarlet for Christmas dinner. I didn't say?"

I arch my eyebrows. "Scarlet went too?"

"Yeah."

"Right."

Silence settles again after that.

Elliott turns the radio volume up, after a few minutes.

When we finally drive into Brunson, he tries to meet Dean's eye through the rear view mirror. "Should I drop you at your parents?"

"Yes, please." Dean smiles.

"Both of us," I say.

Elliott glances at me. "You're not coming home?"

"Yeah. Later."

"Okay," he says slowly. "Want me to take your bags with me?"

"Uh, sure. Thanks."

Elliott pulls over in front of the Millers' place and we step out.

Owen's already there, standing by the porch, hands stuffed inside his pockets.

"See you later?" My brother calls from inside the car.

"Sure."

He nods before driving off.

Dean immediately wraps Owen in his arms, squeezing him like we didn't see each other just a few weeks back. 

Owen smiles, patting Dean's back. "Good to see you too."

"Is no one home?" Dean asks.

Owen shrugs. "Just got here. Heard your car and waited."

Dean almost sprints to ring the bell. The Millers greet us at the door in a flurry of arms and smiles. The only one who doesn't stand up to go to the door is Ellie, being pregnant. Mrs Miller fixes us a post-travel snack that's enough to feed the whole family twice. Dean is ecstatic to play with his niece and nephew, while Coach Miller comes to talk to me about the season and the All-Star teams.

When Mrs Miller says she'll go get more beer for her husband and sons, Owen and I offer to go instead.

"How's Elliott?" He asks me as we come into the kitchen.

"You should know better than me," I say, opening the fridge.

"Didn't he drive you here?"

I shrug.

I take out the final six pack, feeling Owen's gaze pinned to my back as I do it. I turn around, beer in hand, to face him.

"You planning on talking to him?" He asks, tone patient.

I don't know what my face shows, but he raises his hands as though trying to soothe a jumpy dog. "I'm not pressuring, just asking. You don't need to talk to anyone if you don't want to."

I just shrug. Which isn't really an answer, but he nods like it is.

"Olie wanted to invite you over for dinner," he says. "Just wanted to check if you had plans."

"I don't know."

He shurgs one shoulder at me. "We'll be home if you want to come by. And my mom's always happy to add an extra seat at the table for you."

"I know."

"Good." He nods. "Oh, and by the way. Thanks for the interview."

I frown. "What?"

"Went by The Lodge on my first day back to ask your brother if he had any spots to fill," he tells me. "Ran into Mr Astor instead, and he asked me about my internship."

"That's great."

Owen smiles knowingly, already heading for the living room. "Yeah. Like I said. Thanks."

***

Part two comes out tomorrow, but I promise it will be worth it :)

Any ideas on what to expect?

As always, thanks for reading!