Page 140 of The New Guy
“Nah. That part’s easy.”
“Coming back to Brooklyn is hard,” she says.
“Right,” I admit.
“Are you going to see him?”
I hesitate. “Not sure it’s up to me. Not sure what it would accomplish, except misery.”
“Is there something you could do—a gesture you could make—that would show him you still care?” she asks.
“Like…flowers or something?” I wouldn’t even know where to start. “That’s not us.”
“Whatis, though?” she presses. “Favorite food? Favorite beer? Favorite activity?”
“Italian takeout. Amber ales. Uh. I can’t send him a gift. Too superficial. What he really wanted was for me to come out of the closet.”
“So do that.”
I open my mouth to argue, and then close it again.
“If that’s what’s holding you back…It’s your life, Hudson. You’ve got a contract locked up if you decide to sign it. You’ve got a great team and every other worldly comfort. If the thing you want most is this guy, then show him.”
No way!says a decade of fear.
“How would I, uh, go about doing that?” says my mouth.
FORTY-EIGHT
Hudson
It takes aboutseventy-five years to get to Brooklyn. But when the plane lands in New York, Bess has already texted me.
All set! We can bring both teams together on the loading dock, where they usually play elimination soccer before games.
My stomach rolls. The idea of standing in front of fifty guys to announce my attraction to men makes me want to yack on my shoes.
On the other hand, I know I need to do this. I’ve known it for a long time. Even if it’s too late for me and Gavin, I’m so tired of holding everything in.
I’m so tired, period. I look like the Bugs Bunny cartoon where he props his eyelids up with toothpicks.
We check in at the big hotel across the street from the stadium. For once in my life I skip the morning skate and take a nap. When my alarm goes off at four, it feels like waking from the dead.
I eat a protein bar and put on a suit. I check my messages. Bess writes:
All systems go for 5:30! You are an inspiration.
I’m an inspiration whose hands are shaking. Even so, I open up my thread with Gavin and send him a short message.
I know this is out of the blue and you probably don’t want to hear from me. But I’m making a big announcement to both teams on the loading dock at 5:30. If there’s any way you could be there, it would mean the world to me.
Then I shut down my phone and go.
* * *
“You sure you want to do this?” my agent asks me.
“Of course,” I snarl. “Why would you second-guess menow?”
