“Shit, Pops. I’d ask what caused this huge revelation, but I don’t want you rethinking and fighting me again.” Hunter relaxed in his seat, assessing me as he downed another glass of water. After the fourth refill, the waitress had brought over a pitcher and she’d already refilled that once. “Is this because of Nixon? If so, remind me to send him a fat check when I get signed to a team, because I thought you were going to fight me all the way to the signing table.”
Was it because of Nix? Maybe a little, but not entirely. He proclaimed to have zero people skills, but the truth was, he saw much more than he let on. He had a way of dancing around topics that made him uncomfortable, and in the process, his words helped people see what was right in front of them the entire time.
“Partly,” I admitted, hoping it’d help Hunter realize how good Nixon was for me. He called me on my shit and didn’t believe in taking sides, other than the one he felt was best. Even when it meant agreeing with my son, who hadn’t exactly welcomed him into our home. “He sees your potential and he agrees with you that waiting another year may not be the best thing for your career. His main concern is you staying healthy.”
“Trust me, Pops, that’snothis only concern,” Hunter chided. The waitress stopped by our table to ask if we’d like to order dessert. I shook my head in disbelief when Hunter ordered a warm brownie with ice cream on top. I envied his endless appetite and metabolism that’d burn off all the calories before he went to bed. Once we were alone again, my son continued. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to have someone like him in my corner, but I’m not convinced he’s helping for altruistic reasons. He’s been around long enough that he knows you’d never be with someone who doesn’t accept that you had a life before them. He’s doing what he can to prove he’s not going to make you compartmentalize your life.”
“I might be inclined to agree with you if we were talking about anyone other than Nix,” I argued. “That man doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to do. He’s not a manipulative bastard who’d try and help you simply to earn brownie points with me. As a matter of fact, when he talked to me about your tightness, he and I weren’t even on speaking terms. I don’t want to get into too much with you, but Nixon’s an odd man. He has a lot of theories in his own mind that he’s had to get past before agreeing to even spend time with me as something other than a buddy from my playing days. It wasn’t easy for him to pick up that phone, but he did, because he saw you heading down a road to a sidelining injury.”
Hunter sat back in his seat, his brow furrowed as he absorbed what I had to say. Good. Because I wasn’t sure how much longer I could handle this chasm between my obligations to my family and my desire to be with Nixon.
The waitress stopped by with Hunter’s dessert and slid the bill onto my side of the table. I scanned it, thankful I wasn’t one of the parents struggling to make ends meet while still helping my kid achieve his dreams. This place wasn’t terribly expensive, but it still would’ve broken me if I didn’t have a nicely padded bank account.
Hunter devoured his brownie and ice cream so fast I wasn’t sure he’d even tasted it. “Okay.”
“Okay? What’s that mean?” I questioned him while we waited for the waitress to run my credit card. I quickly signed and ushered Hunter out of the building. The dinner rush was just starting and I was enjoying some quality time with him; I didn’t want anyone to recognize either one of us and break the line of communication we’d opened.
“It means okay,” Hunter responded, as though no explanation was necessary. I clicked the button to unlock the car and slid in after him. “I’ll take your word that Nixon’s not trying to help me because of you. I meant it when I said it’s pretty cool to have someone like him watching out for me. I’d bitched about my side to the trainer at school and he told me it was a simple strain and I just needed to make sure I stretched. He didn’t give enough of a damn to actually do anything about it though. If he makes you happy, then I’m happy for you. And if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll email him to thank him for the exercises and tips as well as apologize to him for acting like a spoiled little brat that morning he was down here.”
“That’s not necessary, but if it’s something you feel you need to do, go for it.” As we wound our way back home, my chest filled with pride and hope. There was a chance life was finally going to work out the way I’d never thought possible.
14
Lincoln
It only tookthree steps into Patrick’s house to understand why his wife had called me. The air was rent with tension and anger, where it’d once been a happy home. Hunter looked to me, wide-eyed, at the sound of Patrick screaming at someone or something on the other side of the house.
Angie winced, but quickly recovered. “I’m sorry, guys. He’s been like this all morning. I should’ve warned you.”
“It’s fine, Angie,” I assured her. She’d been carrying this burden for far too long. The two of them were high school sweethearts who survived the college years living in different states. She’d stayed faithfully by his side throughout his entire career, nursing him through the injuries no one knew would lead them to this point. “Why don’t you take the afternoon off. Go do something nice for yourself.”
“Oh, I couldn’t ask—”
I cut her off before she could finish that thought. She’d never come right out and ask for anyone to babysit her husband. Sadly, that’s what it boiled down to; Patrick needed someone to watch over him, make sure he didn’t do anything stupid. But her once porcelain face was now marred with deep lines, her ever-present smile long since turned to a frown. Sheneededsomeone to bear that burden for her. I
f I wasn’t fighting to get my own relationship off the ground, I’d stay here and be that person for her. Patrick and I had been brothers on that field; leaving him alone in his house while his brain slowly rotted away would be no different than abandoning my own child in his time of need.
“Miss Angie, you might want to take him up on it,” Hunter suggested. I smiled at how my son still managed to dig up his manners from time to time. “If you don’t, he’ll keep pestering you until you do. Heck, he might even cancel his flight tonight just so he can harp on you about how you’re not doing either of you any good hovering all day.”
“Flight? Are you going out of town? I thought you weren’t doing any speeches during Hunter’s season,” Angie inquired. I glared at Hunter, suddenly realizing what he was up to.
Just like me, he wanted to pull Angie away from her burdens for a while, but his approach was to force my hand about Nixon. And I wanted to. Desperately. I couldn’t tell Patrick, not now, but at one point, they’d been my closest friends in Alabama; hiding Nixon from them felt like lying.
She rested a hand on my arm, dragging me further into the house, a soft smile finally appearing at her lips. “Honey, if you have something you need to do, you don’t have to waste the day here.”
“It’s not a problem, Angie,” I reassured her. While I could try and steer the conversation to safer topics, I wanted to be honest with her. I wanted her to know she could quit worrying about me, that I was finally happy. Lord knew she had enough to fret about besides my love life. “And you’re right, I don’t have any speaking engagements until early next year. I suppose you could say I’m seeing someone.”
“Oh? Anyone we’d know?” she prodded. I pulled out a chair in the breakfast nook while Hunter disappeared, most likely to convince Patrick and Angie’s son to fire up the Xbox.
Those two were nothing if not predictable. They’d been best friends throughout childhood, bonded by fathers who were never available on the weekends. Where Hunter had followed in my footsteps, Tanner had steered far away from sports. Probably for the best, given what their family was dealing with now.
I pushed thoughts of Patrick out of my head for a bit longer. It wouldn’t be possible to ignore what he was going through once I entered the den, but for now, I was having a pleasant conversation with Angie.
I felt the smile on my face while I considered how much to tell her about Nixon. He was a private man, but this was different from blabbing to random strangers about our relationship. Friends were going to find out sometime; might as well tell her now.
“I’m… uh…” It shouldn’t have been so hard to tell her Nixon and I were together. If she was anything like Isabella, she wouldn’t be the least bit surprised by my revelation. She and Patrick knew the reasons for our divorce and accepted me.
Or at least, they had.
