‘Pretty much decided from day one that they had no fault in this and since I wouldn’t be able to love you up close, Cody, that they’d get it instead.’Love you up close. I can love Dannyup close again. I cried for close to an hour after that first phone call. Luke held me while I just cried. For nine-year-old Cody and thirteen-year-old Danny. For my dad, who only got to watch one of his kids grow up. Out of jealousy because Matt and Chris, no matter how good kids they are, had my dad when I didn’t. Because they are good kids, Danny said.‘They’re good kids. Fucking annoying most of the time, but good kids. Just like you and me, Cody. We were good kids, too. We didn’t deserve what happened to us.’
‘It didn’t just happen, Danny. She did it. She did that to us.’
‘I know.’
‘Do they call Dad, Dad?’I croaked. Somehow, that felt strangely important.
‘Nah, they have their own dad. They call him Pops. Glenn when they wanna be all teenage brats and piss him off.’I laughed at that. Then I cried because I never got to be a teenage brat and wasn’t that just a fucking travesty? I always knew that there was no point in being a brat because it wouldn’t get me the one thing I truly wanted, anyway: my family back. But now I do. I have my family back.
“I can’t wait to hug him,” I blurt, and Luke and Danny both smile at me fondly. “To find out if he smells the same, you know?” I’ve FaceTimed with Dad a couple of times ever since I reconnected with Danny, but it’s not the same as having him in real life. Besides, he just cries most of the time, telling me how sorry he is. That he should’ve tried harder to find me. That he should’ve known that Mom would change our names. That he should’ve… So many regrets pouring off a man that I would never blame for any of this. So, I quoted Ryan O’Neil’s words back to him because, yes, of course, I’ve watched that God-awful movie with Luke and his mom, and yes, I now officially hold a membership to theUgly Criers Club,too.
Yeah, maybe my dad could’ve tried harder to find me, but does it really matter now? Now that I have him back. Am I going to focus on all the stuff we missed or what lies ahead of us instead? The answer is simple.
“He does,” Danny laughs. “You know Dad. He’ll always be anAXE Goldkinda guy.” I breathe in deeply and my lungs fill with the familiar scent. The scent that will always be Dad to me. Danny squeezes my shoulder, then ruffles my hair. “So, how’s the knee, squirt?” He asks.
“It’s good,” I say. Because it is. My recovery has been uneventful, which is great in medical terms. You want a recovery to be uneventful. And I kind of needed that because the rest of my life has been pretty eventful these past few months. Coming out, telling Mom off and where to stick it, reconnecting with Danny and our dad.Luke.Never a dull moment with him around. Shit, I love him so damn much. I never thought I could love anyone like that. So freely and completely. So unafraid.
Because yes, I’m no longer afraid that I’m not enough and that people will eventually leave one day. Because I’ve realized that I can’t use the past to predict or determine my present anymore. Nor my future. Idecide. Ichoosewho I want to be and whom I want to trust. And I trust Luke. But more importantly, I trust myself now. I finally trust myself to be enough.
Epilogue
Luke
Four years later
I notice Cathy assoon as we leave the locker room. She always looks the same when she prowls the hallways of a hockey arena after a game. Like a small, greedy hyena looking for scraps but clearly holding her breath for the big scoop. And her patience often pays off because she’s known for getting the best stories.Story.To a lot of people, Cody and I are a great story.Two gay hockey players in a relationship playing opposite each other in the Stanley Cup Final. And not just gay, but ace, too.
We were lucky enough to get traded at the same time. Not to the same team, obviously, since Cody just beat my ass, but both to Canadian teams. And not just any teams—we got traded to our dream teams, who also happen to be hardcore rivals. For the past two years, Cody has been the star goalie for the Hamilton Hawks, breaking one record after another in the Canadian city, while I’ve been the highest-scoring D-man in the League for the Mississauga Fucking Caribous! Can you believe it? And yes, we might’ve lost today, but I’m winning later when I sweep him off on a long overdue surprise vacay to Lapland. Exotic, right?
I know, but my man is weird like that, picking one of the coldest places on earth as his dream vacation destination. But hey, my baby wants to see a reindeer in the wild, so what can you do? Afterward, we’re doing a pit stop in Jyväskylä, Finland, where Virtanen lives with Greta. They both play for JYP Jyväskylä, one of the best teams in the Finnish league. Yeah, don’t ask. No idea how you pronounce that.Jyväskylä.Greta is currently on maternity leave, taking care of their six-month-old son Aatos. Can you believe it? Virtanen reproducing?
When we’re not practicing, playing, or traveling, Cody and I live in scenic Burlington, on the shores of Lake Ontario, which is halfway between our two teams. We have a small—unpretentious when it comes to NHL standards—house in a quiet suburban neighborhood, where everyone knows us asthe gay couple who play pro hockey.I can live with that.
Our neighbor, Ron, an ex-marine with a Thai wife who yells at him 24/7 for not doing the lawn exactly‘how I like it, Ronnie’looks after Benny when we’re on the road. It was when the veterinarian pointed out that Benny was getting overweight that we found out that Anong, Ron’s wife, was feeding him spring rolls.
‘Look at him,’she said.‘He loooves them.’She gave Cody the stink-eye because he’d just told her that Benny had to lose six pounds, according to the veterinarian, because he was starting to look like a spring roll himself.‘Look at sad Benny. You tell Benny to lose six pounds and it’s like telling Ron not to mow the lawn. He’d be all sad, right Ronnie? You love your lawn, right Ronnie honey?’I bet it would make Ronnie’s fucking year if he never had to mow another lawn again. But the dude is so whipped. Now he’s been commissioned—bullied—by Anong to build a military-style dog exercise court in their backyard for Benny the Bulldog. Yeah, it had to be a bulldog. Good times.
Cathy is still hovering around, her eyes glued to the door of the Hawks’ team area. When they start spilling out after another couple of minutes, she’s on Cody like a leach, only to be intercepted by his dad and Danny. She looks like a kid who’s just had her favorite toy stolen before she decides to linger in their vicinity. Glenn wraps his son in a huge bear hug, squeezing the living daylight out of my man. It’s like that every time we get together with Cody’s dad. He hugs him and holds on to him like he’s afraid he’ll lose him all over again. Like Cody is still that little kid he drove away from, not knowing that it would be more than a decade before he saw him again.
As Glenn finally pulls away, Danny takes over, wrapping his arms around Cody’s shoulders, lifting him off the ground. It’s not an easy task—Cody is fucking heavy, pure muscles. He’s filled out a lot more over the years, with abs that go on for days and tree trunk thighs, I just can’t help ogling when we go for our mandatory morning jog. And don’t even get me started on his butt.
Glenn wipes at his eyes and Cathy’s camera guy is filming like a crazy person while she looks just about to explode with pent-up impatience, her stilettos tap tap tapping on the epoxy arena flooring.
“You did it, son,” his dad croaks, pulling a handkerchief from his back pocket, then blowing his nose loudly. I can’t help chuckling as I lean back against the wall across from them. Glenn is a crier like his son. When they’re together, it’s like a damn Hallmark movie. From the first time we visited him and Lydia to all the times since then. Christmases, birthdays, and holidays. They cry. And they don’t just cry, no they full on sob sometimes, like their bodies can’t contain the sheer joy of being together again. Like their bodies still recall how it felt to be apart for so long. To this day, it’s still one of the most awe-inspiring moments of my life to have witnessed a grown man crumble to the floor, chanting his youngest son’s name repeatedly. Because that’s what Glenn did that day when he was finally reunited with Cody. He fell apart.
Danny releases him and he’s all misty-eyed too as he ruffles Cody’s hair fondly. “I’m so proud of you, Cody,” Glenn smiles through his tears. “So darn proud.” And you can tell that he means it. It stems right from his heart. Unlike Cody’s mom, he’s not in it for the fame or the money. He’s in it for Cody and only him.
“I know,” Cody laughs, his gaze shifting between his dad and Danny, then searching the crowd. For me. He’s always searching the crowd for me like I am for him. When his eyes finally connect with mine, I throw him the broadest smile I’ve got.
Sorry, he mouths, nodding toward Cathy, who’s getting ready to make her move. I just shrug because soon it’ll just be him and me again. I can share him with the rest of the world for just a little while longer. We’re going out for dinner with Cody’s family tonight, but after that, he’s all mine. His mom is not joining us. My man meant what he said back when he finally stood up to her; unless she comes clean, there’s no room for her in his life. In our life. So far, she hasn’t. I know Cody still holds out hope, though, that she’ll take responsibility for what happened backthen. I guess a kid will always hold out hope that their parents will choose them over their own ego.
“Cody?! Cody Mitchell?!” Cathy’s distinct chainsaw voice cuts through the players’ elated voices and the calls from the other reporters. “Cathy Claiborne, ESPN.” She sticks a microphone in his face as he waves his dad and Danny off with a, “I’ll see you guys in a little.” After reuniting with his father and brother, Cody kept the name Mitchell because he didn’t want the media to catch on and dig into his past. It’s his, and as far as Cody’s concerned, it’s going to stay in the past. Biting his bottom lip, he just smiles shyly at Cathy while the rest of the team is attacked by other sports reporters. Out of the corner of her hyena eye, Cathy’s already eyed me minutes ago and I decide to make her fucking day. I might as well. Taking a few steps toward Cody, my gaze never leaves his. He’s still in his post-win glow phase and he looks damn fine. I can’t wait to get my hands on him later. To make him pay for beating my ass tonight. I think I’m going to count his freckles with my mouth. Yeah, I think I’m going to do exactly just that.
Cathy adjusts her lipstick in a small pocket mirror before she hisses—still smiling, of course—at her camera guy to ‘Step closer, Jimmy!’ And she wastes no time going straight for the jugular. I wasn’t expecting anything else, though.
“So, Luke Carrington, how does it feel to be beaten by your boyfriend in the Stanley Cup Finals?” She’s near salivating, but I know how to shut her down.
“Well, Cathy, I wouldn’t know. I don’t have a boyfriend.” Touché, Cathy. Tou-fucking-ché. Bewilderment flashes across Cathy’s face as she nearly drops her mic. I grin at Cody, who shakes his head, blushing adorably.
