Page 35 of We Were Never Lovers
“George Creed?” he asked and was about to crack up like it was a joke when Ben went on, “Finn got outed big time, which was like everywhere and we were all like, he’s gay? But then it goteven bigger when Creed came out as his boyfriend and married him a couple of months later.”
Sean stared at him, certain he was joking. Amy picked up the conversation asking how old the kid was now, and Bleaker mused that Flynn was even better since he became a dad, while Chris reckoned George moving up to Sydney was the reason they were looking better last season.
He looked up and Jack was watching him. Sean couldn’t help frowning—he felt like this was information he should’ve been given. There were two out players and they had a kid? He wanted to tell Jack he should’ve led with that when Sean was conscious and willing enough to have a conversation with him.
“Sorry,” Jack said now, his voice carrying down the length of the table.
Sean wasn’t sure what he was apologising for—not telling him? Letting him, a fellow gay player, find out like this in the midst of a group of people he was pretty sure didn’t know he was gay?
“Oh man,” Ben said to Sean, “you gotta look up their wedding photos. It was inVogue.”
“Jack’s got pictures,” Helen said.
“You went to the wedding?” Sean asked, his brain still struggling to process the information.
“Yes,” Jack nodded, he looked like he really wanted to change the subject but it was like a herd of bolted horses—charging in multiple directions as voices overlapped discussing how the league had been good to them, how Finn and George were great ambassadors for the gays, how there were still pockets on the internet calling for them to be hounded out of the game, the country, how good it was that none of that shit happened on the field.
It was only Bobby, sitting to Sean’s right, who muttered to him, “None of this was ‘ere when it was just us blackfellas, eh?”
Sean kept his expression neutral and hated himself a bit when he murmured, “Yeah,” in reply. He’d heard it before—the assumption that traditional life had been free of gays and saw no point countering it with the argument that 60,000 years of living here and not a single gay person was impossible, so he let it slide like he always did, felt ashamed as he burrowed ever more deeply into his safe closet.
He didn’t count on Matty Tampu listening in. “We had the sista girls since before the white man come,” he said softly, “ain’t just a white man thing.”
Bobby argued that was different, that was just men dressing up as chicks, but Tampu shook his head, “Them sista girls always been takin’ a man, no problem. Always thataway. Only become a problem for them when those whitefellas bring their religion.”
Sean rubbed his forehead and hoped he didn’t look as uncomfortable as he felt. He had no problem with sista girls—the men who were really women on the inside and dressed like it on the outside—but he hated this conversation occurring so close to him.
“I think I need a rum and coke,” Sean said.
Jack sprung up from the other end of the table and Sean startled. Right, they had a code. He really wanted the drink. He started laughing, a hysterical noise bubbling out of him; Ben looked his way and cracked up, unsure at first but then heartily, the other brothers joining in.
Jack was next to him. “You wanna lay down?” he asked before looking at everyone. “I think it’s time to call it.”
“No, no,” Sean tapped his side. “I’m good, but I really could do with a proper drink.”
“Oh,” Jack said and smiled down at him. “Alright, sorry,” he lowered his voice. “I would’ve told you but I really hadn’t thought of it.”
“You really went to their wedding?” Sean asked.
“Well, yeah, Finn’s one of my best mates and George finally forgave me,” he smiled like he was still relieved, and Sean remembered how pissed off George had been about the trade back West—requested by Jack to be close to his family and his desire to play at home—and he’d been surprised at the time at how Creed hadn’t even softened his disappointment when asked about it by the media. He’d known, in an idle way, that Jack had been hurt by that, but he saw in his relieved smile now how deeply hurt he’d been by it.
“And you didn’t ask me?” he asked jokingly.
But Jack was serious when he replied. “I did actually. You said no.”
Before Sean could follow up, Ben was off again, “You coulda gone and you turned it down? Wasn’t it like, a whole week in Byron? Sean mate, you’re a fuckin’ clown.”
“Hey, fuck you, maybe I had better shit to do.”
A rum and diet coke appeared in front of him while he defended a life choice he didn’t remember making.
By the time everyone left, Sean was buzzed and exhausted. Jack’s sisters had stayed and helped Jack clean up while Sean supervised the kids playing with Lola out the back.
“All good?” Jack asked, his hand coming to rest on Sean’s shoulder.
“Did you really ask me to come to the wedding with you?” Sean looked up as he asked.
Jack seemed surprised. It was an abrupt question, Sean knew. “Yeah, course,” Jack answered.
