Page 84 of Switch Pitching

This road stretches on, and on, and on, and on. The GPS has us arriving in a little over half an hour, but it’s starting to get dark, and there’s almostnothingaround us. Only trees and Route 9. No, wait. We’re turning off Route 9 onto an even smaller road where the forest is right next to us. I’m getting a little claustrophobic, and it’s not from spending five hours in a truck.

Ethan insisted on driving the whole way up from Boston. I pushed back at first, but now, with the sun setting and the road getting narrower, I’m happy to be a passenger.

The trees give way to a sparse smattering of houses along the road and before long, we pull up in front of a large blue house in the quiet town center. A wooden sign reading “Riverfront Bed and Breakfast” in warm red text hangs off a post out front.

“This is it,” says Ethan, shutting off his truck. He silently steps out and grabs our bags before marching into the building. He holds the door open for me, and I half-jog to follow him.

As we walk toward the front desk, the young red-haired receptionist glances up and does a double take, a broad grin spreading across her face. I’m not sure what to make of it.

“Ethan!” she exclaims, beaming at him.

He returns a warm smile. “Hey Olivia, it’s great to see you again.”

Ah, so they know each other. They probably went to school together.

Olivia leans forward, grinning as she examines him. “Wow, Ethan Sullivan, back in Machias. Never thought I’d see you after you got signed. You’re famous around here!”

Another typical Ethan blush creeps across his face. “Famous? I don’t know about that.”

She laughs. “Are you kidding? You play forBoston. This town couldn’t forget about you even if they tried.”

Turning her attention to me, Olivia’s eyes quickly flick down, taking me in with a subtle once-over before she catches herself and looks back at Ethan with a knowing smile.

“So, what brings you back to Machias?”

Ethan’s expression hardens a bit. “We’re here to see my mom,” he says.

Olivia’s smile softens as she taps on the keyboard in front of her. “That’s nice, I guess your parents have come around, then?”

Ethan replies politely, his voice level. “That’s what we’re here to find out.”

She nods, understanding. “I see. Well, I hope everything goes okay. Your room’s ready in the carriage house. One of us will leave a breakfast basket by the door every day at seven.”

“Thanks, Olivia,” Ethan says. “I appreciate it.”

Olivia smiles and hands over the key. “No problem, have a nice stay.”

“Thanks.” Ethan turns to me, jerking his head toward the door. “Let’s get settled in.”

The carriage house, just a few meters away, has the same rustic appeal as the main building. Ethan slips the key into the lock, turns it, and slides the heavy wooden door open. We step into the entryway that opens to a small living space, furnished with a loveseat and a coffee table.

“You really are a hometown hero, aren’t you?” I quip.

Ethan lets out a short laugh as he shuts the door behind us. “I guess people still talk about me. At least it’s for a better reason now.”

I haul my roller bag onto one of the luggage racks, then turn to face Ethan. “Yeah, Olivia seems to know what happened with your parents.”

Ethan inhales deeply before letting out a sigh. “Word spreads fast around here. I mean, it’s not like everyone here knows everyone else, but we went to high school together, so our families share the same circle.” He pauses. “As I said, my parents apparently got a lot of shit when the town heard that they chucked me out.”

Shifting from foot to foot, I stay silent, not knowing what to say.

“Most people here don’t have a problem with being gay. My parents are an exception,” Ethan continues before catching himself and thinking for a second. “I guess it might only be my dad, we’ll see.”

We shower and go to bed, exhausted from the long drive. Tomorrow afternoon, we’re going to have Thanksgiving dinner with Ethan’s mom, and from what Ethan says, it could be tense. If she’s truly sorry, and if she makes a genuine effort, I hope things warm up between them.

Frigid November air bites us when we step outside into the deceptively sunny afternoon, ready for the short trip to Ethan’s mom’s house in East Machias. The drive is quiet, and Ethan keeps his eyes focused on the road. I can tell he’s not in a talking mood, so I give him space, staring out at the bay as we leave town.

The blue water is an almost unnatural color. It’s striking, contrasting dramatically with the dark coast and setting sun in the distance.

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