Page 22 of Catching Sparkles

“And sports,” he tacked on, before glancing back at me with an approving nod. “Like this one here. They never did break your record for touchdown passes in a season, Kensington.”

“Seriously?” I asked, trying not to wince as my stomach clenched with a mix of feelings I didn’t even want to attempt to identify. I loved football. I always had. But talking about it these days made me feel queasy and embarrassed. “How do you even know that?”

“Still go to the games on Friday nights,” he admitted, before his lips thinned in obvious displeasure. “Cardinals ain’t too hot this year. Year before, either,” he said. “Not like when you were QB.”

“Ah,” I acknowledged, though I didn’t know what to say. It was both nostalgic and depressing to think about what the Cherryvale Cardinals had been like when I was in the game. “Sucks.”

“Yeah, well. People don’t know what’s important anymore. It’s all participation ribbons and coddlin’ now. And this damn parade tomorrow nobody’ll stop yapping about.”

“Oh, hush,” Mrs. Crawford cut in, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. “Let the kids have their fun and stop crying about it.”

“Not crying,” he denied gruffly. “Just don’t see the need to go out and celebrate a thing like that.”

My brows drew together as I started to comprehend his words. He was complaining about the pride parade.

“We’re all going to the parade,” I cut in, because the idea of not defending it, when really what he was probably complaining about was queer people as a general concept, felt incredibly disloyal and shitty. Two things Kendall had never, and would never, be towards me. “It’s going to be… fun,” I said, even if I wasn’t exactly convinced.

“See?” Mrs. Crawford said, giving him a pointed look. I could tell she was irritated with him, but it seemed like she was trying to educate him rather than straight out call him an ignorant bigot. I wasn’t sure which one I would have preferred, but I really didn’t want to start drama with Kendall’s dad and have it end up coming back on him and causing him any more stress. “Things are different now, Hayward. You need to get with the times. Even my boys are going with their wives.”

“It’s not right. It’s not natural,” he insisted.

“Wasn’t too long ago that you and I wouldn’t be allowed to drink from the same water fountain or go to the same school, on the grounds of the same argument you’re using right now,” she said flatly. I watched her words affect him physically, as he tried not to squirm with guilt.

“That’s different,” he mumbled. “A man can’t choose the color of his skin.”

“Nobody chooses to be gay either,” she retorted, her dark eyebrow popping up into her silver ringlets of hair. “Your son sure didn’t choose it. He’d have to be a real glutton for punishment to do that, with a dad like you.”

My stomach muscles clenched at the direct mention of Kendall, but I didn’t know what I could say.

“He’s sure choosing to go out and prance around with the perverts and weirdos, ain’t he?”

“Kendall’s great,” I blurted out, immediately regretting it when both pairs of their eyes snapped over to me. “I-I mean, he… He carries dog treats in his pocket when he goes for a walk, just in case he runs into someone with a dog.”

Heat started to crawl up my neck as I realized how stupid I sounded, but I hadn’t known what else to say. He always knows what to say when I’m feeling like shit about myself, and lately I’ve been thinking about him all the time, and his hair smells like strawberries? That probably wouldn’t have landed too well.

Hayward blinked a few times, before letting out a scoff that suggested carrying dog treats around didn’t hold much weight for him in terms of what made someone a good person. But he didn’t say anything else, just gathering up the bags Mrs. Crawford had rung up for him, and marching out the door.

Clearing my throat, I lugged my basket up onto the little counter so she could ring me up. She shook her head and sighed, giving the door he’d walked out of one more glance before directing her attention back to me.

“Tagging along with your brother and Kendall instead of the other way around for once, huh?”

“Something like that,” I confirmed, trying not to sound overly invested in the part that involved Kendall.

“That boy is sweeter than sugar, wouldn’t hurt a fly,” Mrs. Crawford said wryly, giving a few firm nods as she punched buttons on her screen. “Even with a daddy like that.”

“Yeah.” For some reason, I felt like I’d already said too much and implicated myself.

“It’s been good for this town having him here, always being so open and authentic,” she said. “You know, if it wasn’t for him, half the old fogeys in this place probably wouldn’t even know a gay person. Or, at least, they’d think they didn’t know any. You can’t always tell, you know.”

“… Yeah.” My palms slicked over with sweat at her harmless observation, but I wasn’t exactly sure why.

“I think it helps for them to see he’s just a regular person.”

“Uh, yeah. I guess.” I wasn’t sure I considered Kendall Austin a regular person. But if they did, then that was probably a good thing for him.

“Anyway,” she said, waving a hand dismissively as I inserted the chip side of my debit card into the PIN pad to pay. “You boys keep being good. And you remind your mama that she better send me that tomato sauce recipe she promised before I see her at the book club on Wednesday.”

“I’ll, uh, try to remember.”