She narrowed her eyes and stole a dinner roll off the island before turning on her heel to head to her room.
“I forgot how fun it is to rile her up,” Mom chuckled. “Honey, would you mind grabbing your dad for lunch? He should be in his office.”
I gave her a quick nod and bounded up the stairs. I peeked into the first room in the hall and saw Dad lounging back in his massive leather chair, reading through a sheaf of papers. Hanging above his head were two NFL jerseys, one from his tenure with the Bears and the other from his time with the Cowboys.
We’d moved to Dallas from Chicago when I was too little to remember it, but we’d landed in Austin when a torn rotator cuff forced Dad to retire when I was about nine. He always said the silver lining of his injury was more time with us, but we all knew how much he missed it. It was one of the reasons it was so hard to find a way to tell him that I wouldn’t be following in his steps.
Dad glanced up and grinned when he saw me come in. His sandy brown hair that matched my own had a few flecks of gray barely visible in the light with faint laugh lines around his eyes. Nate’s and Aly’s disturbing comments from earlier popped into my head and I inwardly groaned.
Note to self: Google nearby therapists tonight.
I wasn’t a stranger to people drooling over both my parents. It just wasn’t something I wanted to hear about…ever. Especially from my friends.
“Hey champ, how’s it going?” Dad asked, rounding the desk and engulfing me in his arms.
“Can’t complain. I’m just livin’ the dream,” I lied cheerfully.
“Excited for your last year at UT?” he smiled widely. He leaned back against his desk, picking up the photo of me in my Longhorn football gear that he kept next to his computer. “Those were some of the best years of my life playing for the Horns. And now you’re about to be a senior and graduate soon. Damn, it goes by so fast,” he sighed wistfully. “By this time next year, you’ll be signed to a pro team and really living out that dream of yours.”
The ever-present knot in my stomach tightened even more. It would have been the perfect segue to tell him what I’d known for over a year, that my dreams lay outside the professional sports world.
Come on, just say it. Don’t be a pansy about this, Hayes. Rip off the band aid and tell him already.
“You bet,” I choked out with a tight smile.
You cowardly liar who lies like a lying coward…
“I only hope your decision to duck out on conditioning and practice this summer doesn’t hurt your chances. I’m still shocked you even got Coach Walker’s approval for this as the team captain.” His tone was laced with disapproval and I couldn’t meet his eyes.
Admittedly, Coach wasn’t my biggest fan after I pressed the issue to leave campus a few weeks ago, but I couldn’t find it in me to care much. I had spent the last seven years giving everything I had to football, summers included, trying to live up to the quarterback legacy left by my dad and my grandpa.
The truth was I wasn’t as invested anymore. It wasn’t what I wanted for my life. For years, Dad has held onto the dream that I would pick up his NFL mantle and get drafted after graduation. Every football season was spent pushing me to be the best, look good for scouts, keep my “eye on the prize”.
It was all too much, it was becoming suffocating. I hated disappointing him. He was hard on me, but he loved me and truly believed I could go all the way. I just wished his dream wasn’t at the expense of mine.
I shoved my hands in my pockets so that dad didn’t see them shaking.
“I promise, it’s not gonna be a problem. Coach understood and I’ll keep up my conditioning here,” I assured him, feeling like a piece of shit for not coming clean. “Uh, Mom says lunch is ready for us by the way. We should head down.”
I tried to make it to the door, but Dad called my name and I reluctantly turned back to him. The look on his face was indecipherable and I worried he’d seen through my lies.
“You, uh…you happen to see anyone over at the Bishops’ house when you pulled up?” Dad inquired casually, throwing me off at the change in topic.
Pathetic didn’t even begin to describe how my pulse raced at the sound of Theo’s last name. I instinctively looked out the window to the house next door, remembering how I’d spent the better half of my teenage years sneaking over there. I could practically sketch from memory the layout of the backyard, the limestone pool, and the gnarled oak tree that could be scaled upto the last room on the top floor. A room I knew better than my own.
“N-no, I didn’t,” I stammered.
“Gotcha,” Dad quickly responded. “I just wondered if, um, Grady was home yet. I had a question to ask him about some boat repairs I’m doing, but I’ll call him later. No big deal. So, lunch?”
I gave him a bewildered look, wondering why he was nervously rambling and seemed uncomfortable. My Dad didn’t ramble. He was one of the most put-together and eloquent people I knew. Something told me there was more to his question, but I also didn’t want to prolong the conversation. Even hearing about Grady, Theo’s dad, had me flashing back to the last time I talked to the man three and a half years ago. And that was a night I had zero fucking interest in revisiting.
At lunch,I made it a point to keep my mouth full so I was less likely to be interrogated about what was going on in my life per the Hayes family tradition. Dani prattled on at length about her time at Baylor while Mom pressed for information on her dating life. That set Dad off on a story about some crazy clients he’d shown around this lakefront property last month just to avoid the topic of Dani dating or doing anything dating-adjacent. I almost cried in gratitude since I’d heard details from her before that I was still trying to scrub from my brain.
I kept my answers short and easy, sticking to news about my friends, my fall schedule, and talking offensive strategies with Dad. But I was distracted, unable to keep my mind from straying to the house next door. More specifically, the boy who used to live there. The past hung over my head like a damn raincloud,keeping me in its shadow and threatening to open up and drown me at a second’s notice.
“I’m gonna head upstairs,” I announced abruptly. Varying looks of confusion or concern were aimed my way as I pushed back from the table. “Thanks for lunch, Mom.”
I hightailed it to my room, not leaving them any time to question my odd behavior. Besides a new bedspread and the closet emptied of my clothes, my bedroom hadn’t changed much. It gave me a measure of comfort to see my old trophies and knickknacks cluttering the shelves.
