What even is the fucking truth? Without a chance to speak to Jamie since that hotel room in Seattle, I find myself wondering if I even know.
“Ok. What if the truth is that we started the season as coworkers, but we've become something...more. More than coworkers, more than friends. Something like whatThe Neutral Zonewas suggesting.”
I expect him to explode, to tell me to stop talking, to threaten to call my dad.
Instead, he is quiet – probably taking a nice long drink.
“Well, then I would have issued the press release I've had waiting in your file for the last five years.”
“A...press release?”
“Yeah. Pretty standard. Mr. Tremblay is a proud member of the LGBTQ+ community, blah blah, has always valued his privacy, etc. etc. Ask for space while you and the team make your playoff run.”
I'm glad I'm still sitting, because you could knock me over with a feather.Five years?
He seems to hear the question I can't bring myself to ask.
“You remember when your dad got married?”
“Which time?”
He laughs.
“The third. And I kept trying to get you to take a date, but you kept finding an excuse.”
That certainly sounds familiar.
“Anyway, you get there, and over dinner this woman starts a conversation with you. Do you remember?”
I think back and find a strand of the memory.
“Oh yeah, she had some really strong opinions about 1-3-1 vs. 1-2-2 in the power play. We argued about it most of the night.” She had been hopelessly, desperately wrong, too.
“Ethan, that woman was a literal Miss Minnesota and was trying to get you back to her room for at least an hour. At that point, I decided to come to terms with the fact that you might just...not be interested.”
“But you kept pushing women at me – hell, you tried to set me up with someone in November!”
There's a pause.
“I...look, we should probably have just talked about this. But you never seemed to want to – and you seemed pretty committed to staying in the closet. So when people started asking questions, I thought I'd try to give you options. But you didn't want the options, either.”
“I guess...I guess I thought you'd drop me if I told you the truth. I mean, you played with my dad, and he...”
I trail off, uncertain of how to finish the sentence.
“Does Marty know?”
I snort.
“What do you think?”
“Good. He'd just find a way to make a buck off of it.Look, I need you to know – I'm not your dad. Did I grow up in a different time? Sure. Do I totally understand all of this? Absolutely not. But I'm in your corner, 100%.”
Tears start to well in my eyes as I realize how much I've underestimated him.
“Should I start drafting a relationship announcement?”
I look to the ceiling, trying to stop the tears from falling in earnest.
