Page 69 of Two for Holding
He finally came up with, “You can look up to someone’s playing style and professional accomplishments and not want to follow their example in other ways.”
Howie parsed that slowly over the course of several different slabs of uncooked fish.“Okay, but I don’t want to make him angry if I don’t hang out with them.And I don’t want to disappoint Jax.Or Breezy.”He made a face.“Breezy’s disappointed face is awful.”
“You won’t,” Tom promised instantly.“You’re putting thought into it; you want to do the right thing.That’s all anyone can ask.You’re doing more than you have to with all the research.It shows how much you care.”
Tom had never watched a flower turn toward the sun, but he imagined it was similar to the way a smile spread across Howie’s face and his back straightened.Sitting up properly and actually meeting Tom’s eyes even made his haircut appear less stupid.Positive reinforcement.Who knew it was so effective?
“The research stuff is pretty cool,” Howie said.“I always liked doing independent study at school.Did you know there’s a whole code based on handkerchiefs?”
Tom had never carried a handkerchief in his life.A sense of guilt overcame him at being so bad at being gay that he’d never heard of the things Howie had discovered in under a week.At least it made for a good cover.“What kind of code?”
“You know what?It doesn’t matter.Um, Vanderbilt and Hayes—what do I do with them?”
“Just don’t follow up with them.”Tom had perfected the art of escaping social interaction.Teammates sometimes said things like, “We should hang out sometime” or “We should go golfing this summer.”Tom’s proven tactic to avoid making definite plans was to say, “Yeah, for sure,” and then never mention it again.Only Phil had ever nailed down a time and a place with him.
“And if they ask?”
“Then you tell them you’re not comfortable with the way they’ve been acting.”
Howie’s face went white.
“I can help you,” Tom promised, with no idea how he would.It seemed to comfort Howie at least.They spent the remainder of the meal talking about different back-checking drills and wondering why things had gone so quiet with Coach Trout recently, which relieved Tom immensely.He’d maxed out his capacity for emotional conversation.
Howie suggested Morris might be taking the Trout issue more seriously since he’d been a little more involved in practices lately.It didn’t seem probable to Tom; taking the issue seriously ought to mean actual changes to the way things were run rather than a constant push and pull between the two coaches.
“Maybe we could talk to Pulvermacher, then, if Trout starts up again,” Howie suggested, his mouth full of rice.
The thought made Tom’s heart race with anxiety.“Maybe.”
He’d met Martin Pulvermacher, the GM, a few times and had never gotten the impression he cared about what happened in practice so long as they made the playoffs.But Howie wasn’t off base.Tom and Jax suggesting plays and line changes wasn’t a long-term solution, and the rest of the coaching staff and management should have gotten involved a long time ago.Tom hadn’t considered talking to them about it because he never talked to them, but fixing team issues should have been their job.Where was Pulvermacher?Didn’t his staff report back to him?Didn’t any of them notice or care what happened on the team?
The waiter offered them sake with the check, and Tom gulped his down too fast.How had he gotten so bad at this?His first year or two as captain, when he still believed he could take the team all the way on his back, he’d done this kind of thing more often: meals out with the rookies, checking in with their coach.But the older he got, the more he failed, and the more he wanted to hide away from everyone.
He might never have seen his own failings if not for Jax.
“Thanks for this,” Howie said, gesturing both to the check and vaguely between them.“It was really…yeah.You’re a really good captain.”
Emotion swelled in Tom’s chest, which he was neither prepared for nor particularly enjoyed.“Uh.Thanks.”
“No, seriously, when I made it through training camp, everyone warned me that you weren’t easy to talk to or something, but they were wrong.”
Tom snorted.“They weren’t wrong.I’ve been…practicing.”
Howie shot him a confused look, but only one confused look for the entire conversation counted as a success in Tom’s book.
Tom walked home, trying to empty his mind of all the things pressing down on it: Being captain and what it meant to lead a team, when he could change things, and when he ought to get other, higher-ups involved.His own successes and failures.The awkward, awful dinner with his parents in Toronto, when Tom had once again started a sentence with “Mom, Dad, I wanted—” only to be interrupted before he could get anywhere.Jax’s charity efforts.Jax’s inevitable coming out.The end of their…whatever in nine days.
Tom had heard words like “fuck buddy” and “situationship” thrown around the locker room.He’d always assumed no one would ever apply them to him because he couldn’t date, much less have casual relationships, until he retired.If then.He hadn’t been able to imagine anyone wanting a washed-up hockey player deep in the closet with no experience even after retirement.Then, Jax had kindly ignored his inexperience, which meant there might be hope for Tom in the distant future.When he’d suggested they practice together, Tom had half hoped Jax would turn him down flat so he could go on believing this was all an impossibility.But Jax hadn’t, and kissing once became kissing daily and then more than kissing.Tom had gotten too caught up in the newness of it all to think about it in depth.
Now that he had a moment to process, Tom didn’t know what to call the two of them.They weren’t dating, but they were more than friends.They weren’ttogether, but when it ended, Tom wouldn’t be able to ever see Jax as nothing more than a teammate again.He’d always remember the thrill of Jax’s touch and the care he’d taken with Tom.There was no way Tom could keep from missing what they’d had however briefly, longing for it, even before he lost it.Tom would have to accept the loss, and the earlier, the better.
Jax wanted to live authentically, and Tom wanted that for him too.It would hurt when Jax called it quits in nine days.But Tom had never met anyone quite so unapologetically himself, and he couldn’t stomach being the reason for Jax compromising who he was.
It would be better to keep his expectations realistic.They could enjoy this for as long as it lasted, and when Jax came out, he’d find a partner he could bring to team events and post couples pictures on Instagram with.And Tom would go back to the way things had been before, only a little better for knowing Jax and having been with him, however briefly.
Until then, he’d have to make the most of it.
The team homestand was coming to an end.Tomorrow, they had a matinee game against Chicago.The day after, they’d fly to SoCal for a quick roadie against the LA teams and then on to Arizona.With the end of his time with Jax looming so close, Tom texted him to come over.It would be their last chance for real privacy for at least a week or so.
