Page 49 of Hard to Score

He shrugs. “It means everything was very sudden. The accusations then your mother’s passing. There was never closure on any side, and it’s not my place to initiate it or put Drew in the position to feel like he needs to answer for his father. So . . . I’ve made sure to keep my distance.”

I stare at my father and consider his very diplomatic answer. I need to know more. Need to know if what Drew and I are doing is going to upset some fragile balance I didn’t even know was a thing.

“Did Gary throw the playoff game, Dad? That’s what the accusations were, right? That he was gambling on the game and threw it on purpose to win big.”

My father nods slowly. “That was the supposition, yes.”

“Did he do it?”

He twists his lips and sighs, his expression pained. “I don’t know.”

“You two were inseparable. You had to have known.”

“I don’t. No one does, really.”

“So he just walked away from the game, from your friendship, and has never talked about it since?”

“Pretty much.”

“That’s weird. Even you have to admit that it looks shady,” I say.

“To you and me and the public, yes. To him and his reasons, maybe it was logical.”

I grit my teeth, frustrated with my dad’s sense of fairness. It’s a blessing and a curse the way he gives everyone the benefit of the doubt. Sometimes you just want him to take a damn side.

“Football was his life. Even I remember how much he loved the game. Was there an investigation? What was the conclusion when it was over? Did—”

“He just up and walked away, Brex. There was nothing to investigate if he wasn’t playing.”

“Since when is that the case?”

“Since maybe that was the terms of him walking away?” He lifts his hands. “No one knows, but that’s what seems the most likely.”

“You don’t know?”

“No one does.”

“Humph.” I breathe out a frustrated sigh. “That makes him sound guilty.”

“Or it looks like he didn’t want to drag his family through the mud because of it.”

I chew the inside of my lip and stare out at the lights on the skyscrapers around us. “But why’d he cut you off? You were his best friend. Our families were . . .”

“I don’t know. Shortly thereafter your mom passed, and our life fell apart, so I didn’t have the energy to try and worry about him when I was worrying about the four of you. I probably should have and that’s on me. And maybe I was pissed. Our circumstances were a lot more life-altering, and Gary was so involved in himself that he didn’t cross the aisle to see how we were.”

I snap my head over to him, surprised by his words. “That’s a reasonable way to feel considering we lost Mom while he only lost his job.”

“It was his life, Brex. The man lived and breathed football. It was everything to that family—including Drew—and so in a sense they went through a huge loss too.”

“So you never talked to him again?”

“I tried for a bit, but it was one-sided.”

I mull over my father’s words and try to figure how they play into Drew and the man he’s made himself into.

“Wait? Why did you ask if Drew was cordial? Did you think he wouldn’t be?” I ask.

“Some people don’t like reminders of the past. You’re a reminder,” he says in a measured tone.