Page 94 of Gross Misconduct

“We are.” Griffin stands up and straightens his shirt. “I like your son.”

“What? You’re…no.” Dad looks like he wants to vomit. He turns to me. “Jack, you’ve made a lot of bad decisions in your life, but this has to be one of the worst.”

“It’s true, Dad.” His dig at me makes me find my backbone. I’m tired of him looking down at my life. “Griffin and I are together.”

Griffin holds my hand, which threatens to send Dad back into bull mode.

“Jack, this man cannot be trusted. Look, what you do in private is your business. I’ve never asked. I respect your privacy. But him, of all people? He took me out like an assassin in the middle of a game and destroyed my career. I know our relationship isn’t as strong as it used to be, but why are you trying to hurt me?”

Dad’s eyes are big and round, puppy-like, a new low for him. His silent ask for pity only makes me angrier, and I find I’m the one becoming the bull. All of my pent-up anger at Dad spirals out in a tornado of fury. He drilled into me and finally hit a gushing geyser of oil.

“It’s not about you!” I yell at the top of my lungs with such ferocity it actually takes my breath away. It takes both Dad and Griffin aback. “You want to make everything in my life about you. What you didn’t get. The future you want for me. Your rival. But I’m with Griffin for me. Because he makes me happy. He actually cares about me.”

“You think I don’t care about you?”

“You care about what I can do for you. I’m just your puppet that you can maneuver to get what you think is owed to you. You don’t love me, and I’m fine with that. I’ve come to terms with it. And guess what? I don’t love you either.” His face goes even more wounded puppy dog, which only drills deeper into my oil well of rage. “You don’t get to storm in here and tell me who I can and can’t be with. And you definitely can’t throw a punch at the guy I’m dating.”

Dad shakes his head, as if he took a really bad punch. Where I thought I’d hit another nerve of anger and disappointment, there’s a more subdued reaction from him. I turn to Griffin, who gives me a supportive nod, but even that gesture seems more subdued.

“You really think all that?” Dad asks quietly.

I stalk to the front door and gesture out into the hallway. “It would’ve been nice if you asked about my private life. Maybe I wouldn’t have felt so alone. It was you who made it a secret.”

Dad shuffles into the hall. “If you only knew how much I sacrificed to give you a good life. Everything I did, it was out of love.”

He has the gall to sound genuine.

“Why did you even come over here?”

Dad pulls my lucky bracelet from his coat pocket. “I searched the whole house. Found it in a shoebox in my closet of all places. Thought you might need it for Sunday’s game. I was really looking forward to watching you back in action. I feel like I’m watching magic when I watch you on the ice.”

He tosses the bracelet into my hand. I stare at it, but don’t react.

“Okay then.” He shuffles down the hall, out of sight, perhaps for the last time.

I close the door. The silence in the apartment lets me hear the lock click back into place.

Griffin puts a hand on my shoulder, and it’s the drop of rain that makes the levy break. I collapse, sobbing into his arms.

31

GRIFFIN

Bill wanted us to rest before the big game. I’ve done anything but.

I stayed with Jack all night on Thursday, doing whatever I could to make him feel better after the fight with his dad. Despite hating Ted Gross, it was hard to watch as a father. I can’t imagine Annabelle and June saying they hated me, that they don’t love me. Jack has a valid reason, and Ted is no saint, but it was still hard to watch. I felt bad for both of them.

I checked on Jack on Friday after work, and he was still torn up about what happened. All of the good juju we had accrued leading up the game couldn’t turn his spirits around. He even mentioned skipping the game altogether. I talked him out of that, thank goodness. But how can a player go into a game with an attitude like that?

My juju was fading, too. Guilt ravaged me over Thursday night. While I know that Jack and Ted have major problems that go back years, I hate knowing that I was the one who came between them and broke the relationship permanently.

I wake up Sunday morning determined to have a good game. This is the Sourwood Cup. There’s going to be an arena full of people watching the Comebacks do their thing. We’ve been working so hard for it. I didn’t want to let my team down, and I didn’t want Jack to let his down either.

My teammates and I are meeting up for a pregame breakfast at Caroline’s. The guys erupt in cheers when I walk into the joint. The sharp smell of freshly brewed coffee and eggs sizzling on the skillet welcome me. There’s no scent better than a diner during breakfast.

Two tables have been put together to fit all of us. Despite it being a huge game with tons of eyes on us, the guys are lively and shooting the shit like it’s any old Sunday morning.

“Get this guy some coffee!” Bill yells when I sit down. I’m not used to seeing him in such good spirits. He seems happy, an odd look for him. “How are you feeling, buddy?”

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