NHL Short Stories

new beginnings - jamie drysdale

WC: 2908

"So, when are you moving out to Philly full time?" Miranda asked as she dipped her breadstick into the cup of marinara sauce in the center of the table.

I swallowed the bite I already had in my mouth, feeling the scalding heat from the melted cheese travel all the way down my throat and into my stomach. I shuddered. "Friday. I've already got my stuff packed ready to go. I found a new job in Philadelphia that I'm exactly excited for, but it's all about new beginnings," I responded. "I'm gonna miss it here in Anaheim, but California life isn't for me."

Miranda chuckled from across the wired table we were sitting at outside of our favorite Italian restaurant. The temperature in Anaheim neared about ninety degrees with partly sunny skies and a bit of a breeze, making it a nice day to eat outside. We were enjoying one of our last meals together before I officially left for Philadelphia to be reunited with Jaime after spending the whole summer together before leaving for training camp, which was a hard goodbye to say the least. "I know. It's so expensive to live here, especially in Orange County," she said, dipping her breadstick in the marinara again, "I think you'll love Philly. I heard they nearly burnt the city down when the Eagles lost in the Super Bowl." She laughed again.

I giggled as I wiped my mouth with the cloth napkin I had sitting in my lap. "I heard about that too, which was why I wasn't too thrilled about Jaime getting traded to Philadelphia. I'm trying not to get my head chopped off because Patrick Mahomes is the GOAT." Not that I cared too much about football anyway.

Miranda sipped on her mocktail as a gentle breeze blew by. "Didn't know you were a Chiefs fan," she joked.

I rolled my eyes. "No, I'm from San Francisco," I said before reaching for another breadstick.

Miranda was a friend and wife to Frank Vatrano, a now former teammate of Jamie from the Anaheim Ducks. I promised that we could still be in contact while I was residing in Philadelphia, as while being with the team was temporary, the friendships you've made within that team aren't. Most of the time.

And so Friday came and after sitting at LAX for two hours after TSA, I landed in Philadelphia with my two checked suitcases. Jamie said he would pick me up at the arrivals gate in the terminal, then he promised to take me to get some ice cream as a welcome home gift. Plus, it was nearing a hundred degrees in Philadelphia, so I really could use a chilly treat in this burdening heat wave.

Once the plane landed and everyone filed off at Philadelphia International Airport, I headed towards the baggage claim area to get my suitcases. Though I've been to Philadelphia a few times before this flight that would officially mark my permanent beginning in the city of brotherly love, I still get that weird and unexplainable feeling that this wasn't Anaheim. This wasn't...home.

Jamie texted back after I told him the plane landed and that he was on his way over to the airport. Our apartment wasn't far from the Wells Fargo Center, where the Flyers played all of their home games at. The venue wasn't too far from the airport along Interstate 95, so it would probably take him about ten to fifteen minutes to get to the airport if traffic was decent.

After I had gotten my suitcases from the baggage claim area, I decided to stop at a Starbucks kiosk and grab a bite to eat. Once I paid for my brownie, I headed over towards the arrivals exit where Jamie would be picking me up.

Searching through the sea of people awaiting for their certain somebody or group, I tried my best to locate Jamie. It doesn't help he was smaller than the average NHLer—especially for being a defenseman. He said he would be wearing an orange Flyers sweatshirt, which I find absolutely crazy given the sweltering heat that lies beyond those automatic doors leading outside.