“Shoot.”
“What would you do if you found out one of your teammates was gay?” I asked, dreading my son’s answer. There’d been so much anger when I’d come out to him, I had wondered if we’d ever have a relationship again. He’d stopped coming home, wouldn’t answer my phone calls, barely looked at me when we spent the holidays with my parents. Although we’d raised him to be open-minded, all signs pointed to him being very muchnotokay with homosexuality.
Hunter shrugged, averting his eyes. “I honestly don’t know, Pops. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt him, but I’m not sure I’d go out of my way to hang with him, either.”
At least the boy got a point for being honest with me, even if his answer made my blood pressure spike. I’d been hoping, foolishly it seemed, that he’d tell me it wasn’t an issue today like it was when I was younger.
“Look, I know that’s not what you wanna hear, but it’s the truth. First, I wouldn’t want some dude getting the wrong impression, thinking I’m into him just because he’s cool to hang out with,” he explained. “And maybe it makes me an asshole, but I don’t want the other guys thinking I’m like this hypothetical gay player and turning their stupidity on me, because that would lead to me doing something I’d regret. You’re not going to want to hear this either, but I’m going to say it anyway. As hard as it’d be to admit it, the rest of the team has a right to know.”
“Why?” I lurched out of my chair and started pacing along the far wall of the porch. Suddenly, we weren’t talking about a hypothetical situation at all. And we weren’t talking about Zach Kendricks. Whether he’d meant to or not, Hunter’s words struck a very raw nerve with me. “Why should there be some obligation for anyone to share something they’d rather keep private?”
A hand landed on my shoulder, stilling me. I spun around and realized that I was now smaller than my son. Not by much, but he was taller by an inch, and his shoulders and arms showed the hard work he’d been putting in at the gym.
“Because, Pops, it’s not good for the team if someone’s keeping secrets,” he explained softly, leading me back to the chairs. “Not to mention, the longer someone keeps a secret like that, the harder it is to admit the truth. And when they do, people are going to be pissed off at them for not being honest sooner. Lies make everything in life more difficult.”
God, wasn’t that the truth. Hunter finished his coffee and disappeared into the house so he could get ready for practice, leaving me to think about how my own lies brought me to this point.
3
Nixon
I wasn’t looking forwardto dinner with Teddy, Lincoln, and the entire Wilmington Breakers coaching staff. Somehow, what was originally sold to me as the three of us sitting down to discuss tomorrow’s seminar and how Linc planned to approach Zach about opening up to someone had turned into a barbecue.
Everyone was antsy for a night off, and no one turned down the opportunity for some of Melissa Rodgers’ home cooking instead of the standard fare in the cafeteria. Teddy had hit the jackpot when he convinced her to marry him; she was beautiful, smart, understanding, and could whip up more delicious meals than most of the restaurants in town.
There were only a few cars parked along the curb when I pulled up to Teddy’s house. All of them belonging to our coaching staff, which meant Lincoln wasn’t here yet. I wasn’t sure how that made me feel. Part of me hoped he’d been delayed and wouldn’t join us for dinner, but the other part of me wanted to get this over with.
I still hadn’t given him an answer about his request to sit down for dinner. If we were alone together, there was no way we’d avoid talking about the past, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to admit to him why I’d stopped answering his calls.
“Nixon, come in,” Melissa greeted me. “The guys are out back keeping an eye on the kids while I finish putting everything together.”
Kids. Ugh.It wasn’t that I didn’t like kids, I simply didn’t know how to act around them. Again…not a people person. And just hearing the word reminded me of the man I would see tonight after years of avoidance.
I respected the hell out of him for putting his son first in his life, as it should be, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t blamed an innocent kid for squashing what was likely my one shot at not turning into a cranky, miserable, lonely old man.
Get over it, Cross. You can’t blame his kid forever. If he’d wanted to be with you, he wouldn’t have told you no.
“Hey, you okay?” Teddy handed me a cold beer, watching me carefully as I twisted off the cap. “They say talking to yourself is a sign of mental instability.”
I bristled, even though I knew he was giving me shit. Then again, insanity seemed like a more logical explanation for my behavior than anger over losing something I never had. “Have a lot on my mind.”
“Yeah, there’s plenty of that going around.” I followed Teddy to a table near the pool. His daughters splashed around in the water, both wearing life vests. Kennedy swam to the side, arguing with Teddy that she was too old for the vest and knew how to swim, but he stood his ground. Once she sulked off to rejoin her younger sister, Teddy turned his attention back to me. “Sorry about that. She’s firmly convinced we should treat her like an adult now that she’s seven. Lord help me when she’s a teen. Be glad you never had kids, Nixon. They’re great, but knowing you the way I do, I’m pretty sure someone wouldn’t have made it out alive.”
“Yeah, I can’t even handle being the cool uncle most of the time,” I agreed. “But yours aren’t that bad.”
“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence there.” I replayed my own words, thinking I really was turning into a total asshole, until Teddy busted out laughing. “Damn, it’s no wonder you’re still single. I can’t think of anyone, male or female, who’d put up with your moods.”
“Tell me about it.” I tipped back my bottle, hoping the alcohol would soothe my nerves. Teddy sure as hell wasn’t helping a damn bit. Then again, he had no clue the only person I’d taken a chance at getting involved with was on his way here now. I glanced over and noticed my friend scrubbing his chin the way he did when he was thinking about which plays to call during a game.
Oh hell…
“Nixon, you can tell me it’s none of my business if you want—”
“It’s none of your business,” I deadpanned. If he was starting off like that, I was sure he was getting ready to dive into a topic he had no place talking about.
“Not going to stop me,” he shot back, taking a sip of his own drink. “What really happened between you and Lincoln Sims?”
Aww, hell. I could lie or I could tell the truth; both options were equally unappealing. I wasn’t a liar, unless you counted carefully avoiding topics I’d rather stay buried as lying. But if I told the truth, there was a chance I’d be outing Lincoln, and that broke the second rule I lived by: never make a promise you can’t keep and never break a promise made.
