“He forgets to eat, or he says he does, when really he’s exceptionally picky about food. Don’t let him live off of just coffee and the handful of foods he willactuallyeat. Remind him he doesn’t have to kill himself training. Make sure he’s taking care of his shoulder, that he rests it. He’ll never tell you this either, but he’s got asthma. Cigarette smoke sets it off horribly. He carries inhalers in his bags but they’re hidden in there because he doesn’t like people to know if he needs them. Don’t let him hide it until he gets sick.”
Maverick paused, his voice cracking.
“And the panic attacks. I don’t know how to help him through those. As a father, I’ve never felt more powerless than when I saw him go through those. Promise me when they happen you won’t leave him. I made that mistake when they started happening and told him to shake them off. I should’ve never done that. Please don’t disregard those. Make sure he’s safe. Protect him. Please.”
Cal didn’t even respond verbally; he just pulled Maverick into a tight hug. I looked away, tears blurring my vision. This was validation that Maverick was always paying attention to me, even when I didn’t think he was. This was healing. This was our new beginning.
But it felt like choking down glass, accepting that he knew me this well, that he saw all the cracks, but hadn’t known how to fix them until now. I wanted to scream at him for waiting this long. I wanted to hug him for finally trying.
Maverick pulled back and hugged me too, holding on for a long time.
“You guys need help loading the car?” Maverick asked as he wiped his eyes.
“We should be good,” I said as I held onto Cal’s arm, trying to anchor myself back to reality.
Maverick nodded. “Alright then. Well, I will leave you two to it. But before I go…” He reached into his pocket, unlocked his own phone, and held it out. “Put your number in here.”
Cal took the device without hesitation, his fingers quickly tapping his digits into the screen before respectfully handing it back.
“Like I tell Silas, don’t you ignore my damn calls, kid. Especially if you have my son with you,” Maverick said sternly, sliding the phone back into his pocket. “Now, I’ll see you two in Sacramento. Scott and I are flying out tomorrow to watch you boys. Don’t disappoint.”
Cal nodded as he kissed my temple.
We said our goodbyes and began loading the car. The early morning chill was turning into the hellish Carolina spring heat, and by the time we were loaded back into the rental car, we were sweating.
The drive to Wilmington was lighter than I expected. We had the windows down, blasting nineties rock.
A thought popped into my head, breaking the comfortable silence.
“So,” I started, turning in my seat to look at him. “You told my very southern dad you drive a paid off truck. Was that just to win points, or was that real? Because in Philly, you were definitely driving a Range Rover.”
Cal scoffed, looking genuinely offended. “Absolutely the fuck not. That was a rental while I was in town for the day. Do not insult me that way. I own a blacked-out Silverado.”
I laughed, a wry smile tugging at my lips. “A blacked-out Silverado? Wow. How original. You’ll fit right in. Every other guy in Wilmington drives a truck exactly like that.”
Cal shot me a dry, unamused look. “Oh, I’m sorry. Is my vehicle not unique enough for you? Go find yourself some boring beach redneck with a mullet then. See if he handles you better.”
I laughed again. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it. I’m just saying… it’s basic. But it is an upgrade from that douchy Honda Civic you had when I was with you for Thanksgiving.”
Cal’s jaw dropped. “Douchy? That Honda was a tank! It was reliable.”
“It smelled like Axe body spray and desperation, Cal,” I deadpanned.
“It smelled like hustle,” Cal corrected, his voice dripping with dry sarcasm. “And if I remember correctly, you didn’t seem to mind the smell when you were getting felt up in the passenger seat on I 95. That Civic saved you from sleeping on a bench at PHL, so show some respect to the vehicle that brought you home, Silas.”
My face flamed instantly. I sputtered, laughing despite myself. “Okay! Fine! Jesus. Respect to the Honda.”
Cal chuckled, tapping the steering wheel. “That’s what I thought.”
He drove for a moment in silence before frowning. “Wait a minute. Speaking of cars… there wasn’t a car at your house. Do you actually not have one down here?”
I rolled my eyes. “My dad owns six different cars. If I really need to drive when I’m here, I just take one of his. I’m not here enough to justify the insurance on owning one just to let it sit in the driveway for eleven months a year.”
Cal sighed, shaking his head like this was unacceptable. “Alright. Well, that’s changing. Guess we’re gonna have to drive my truck down here when we go to Philly for our next set of off days.”
“You want to drive your truck from Philly to North Carolina?” I asked. “That’s a long drive.”
“I don’t care,” Cal said firmly, reaching over to squeeze my thigh. “I want us to have our own wheels. I want to be able to take you out without borrowing Maverick’s keys like a teenager. Besides…”
