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Bean and DJ were down at the far end of the bikes, talking about Christmas. Maybe I should have gone to the rectory to talk to Pastor Gabe about the future. Surely he would have some guidance for us. But I didn’t want to intrude on his limited down time with DJ and Clifford during this crazy busy time of the year. I had to imagine a pastor had a thousand things to do right before Christmas. Big important things. Not nervous goalie telling his friends that he’s fallen skates over helmet for a tendie on a rival team things. Surely the Christian ministers were jampacked right now with holiday prayers and setting up nativity sets and talking about the star and wise men.
Someone lobbed a wet towel at me. It fell over my head. I scowled, tugged it off, and glanced around to find the culprit. It was my roomie. The guy I had been loading down with my worries for weeks now. Poor Liam. If not for Tarcy being here in Watkins Glen now, my bestie would probably have clobbered me. Rightfully so, but Tarcy was here and Liam was now a happy little camper.
I made a face at Liam and then flung the towel back at his face. He caught it, draped it around his neck, and made a circular motion with one hand. Right, yeah, I did need to speed up the big news. We had been here for over an hour and the bikes were last on our workout regime here at Williams Wellness. We’d then shower and go out for a late breakfast somewhere.
My sight flew to all my fellow rainbow players. I blew out a breath, stopped pedaling, and slid off the bike, my hamstrings wobbly. Must have put on more miles than I had realized. The other guys all slowed, probably assuming I was calling it done for the day.
Liam nodded as he eased into a lazy pace. He knew what I was planning to do today. We’d talked about it for a couple of days. I would tell the guys as Marcus had done, play our last game before the holiday break, and then drive down to Wilkes-Barre for the dinner at Ooni’s house. Then, if all went well, Marcus and Kyleen would drive to my place the day after Christmas to spend a few days getting to know my family.
During this time, we would begin writing out what we wished to say to our teams and the press. Then, once the teams knew, we would tell the world right before the AHL All-Star game out in San Jose in February. Neither of us had been chosen to play on the two teams but Liam had gotten the nod. He was thrilled, obvs, and already had booked plane tickets for him and his man, who had a free week or two in February before racing picked up once more.
“So hey, I wanted to say something to you guys,” I said as I mopped at my face with a clean gym towel. I looked at Liam. He smiled his encouragement. “Okay, so I know you all have been worried about me and all, but there is no reason to be worried. I’m not doing anything bad…I’m just dating Marcus Newley.”
Eyes flared, pedals slowed to a crawl, and I chewed on the inside of my lower lip.
“Dating Marcus Newley,” Bean repeated, easing off his bike to grab a clean towel from a small table jammed into the corner. “Okay, that’s not as bad as I feared.”
“Yeah, we thought you was maybe doing drugs or making hootch in your bathtub,” Greck spoke up.
Fossie shot Greck a look. “What is this the 1920s? Why would he be making gin in his bathtub?”
“You don’t know, he could be. There are still moonshiners. I seen this show once—”
Bean slid into the moonshiner show gabfest that was about to begin, easing in front of Greck’s bike to face me head on. He had his captain face on which could either be good or bad. I hoped good. “This is quite the announcement,” he said, keeping his sight on mine. “You’ll need representation with you when you speak to the owners and upper management.”
“I’ll go!” Greck shimmied around Bean. “I got great people skills. And the bosses love me. Mostly.”
“I think he would do better with a more professional representation at his side, but it would be amazing if you and the rest of the team waited outside in a show of support.”
DJ and Fossie nodded, vowing to be there whenever I needed. Greck did as well but was keen on trying to get Bean to let him speak because he had lots to say about love being love and not being jerks about me being in an inter-league romance.
“So you guys are okay with it?” I asked as a group of elderly folks jogged out of the gym led by Keyshan. Fossie’s head craned to follow the runners as they exited.
“It’s better than making gin in your bathtub,” DJ tossed out, which made the others chuckle.
“I guess if he’s your cup of tea, then you should dunk your bag. Wait, that sounded bad. You know what I mean. I ain’t got nothing against him personal but when he’s in the net, I sometimes have discussions with him about the size of his head. I call him a pea head, which, you know, ain’t technically true since his head is normal size, but I like the sound of pea head and it makes him retaliate by calling me a rutabaga brain. He’s fast on the chirping, so that’s good,” Greck announced, then downed half a bottle of water.
“I was worried you guys would be upset,” I confessed.
“Nah, we’re cool. Marcus is fine as long as we’re not trying to score on him, then he’s annoying as shit,” DJ said as he dropped an arm around my neck. “Think you can whisper sweet nothings into his ear when you’re all cuddly to ask him to not be so damn good? You know, let a few from good old Deandre slip past now and again?”
“Uhm, no, but good on you for trying,” I parried and got a thump on the shoulder from Greck and Fossie.
“It’s all good,” Greck said. “We’ll still love you, even if you do have terrible taste in men.”
He ducked the playful slap to the back of his head I aimed in his direction.
Liam nodded as the guys drew in around me, showing the kind of support that I’d come to love and expect from them. We were a small group of queer players in a huge league that sometimes didn’t appreciate men deviating from the straight default norm. We were closer than kin at times. We certainly spent more time with each other than we did with our families. And while I’d been worried that they’d be upset, I should have known better.
Bean drew me aside when the others peeled off to shower. “Look, I know it’s going to be a bit bumpy for you and Marcus when the teams are told. You will have my support as the captain and the LGBTQ rep for the team. Do you have your agent in on this? If not, you need to contact him or her right now.”
“I reached out to my agent. They’re going to be there with copies of my contract. I’ve not broken any clauses or anything,” I said and eased to the side to let a couple of women pass by on their way to a yoga class taking place soon.
“No, of course not. Our contracts do not dictate who we can date. I just wanted to ensure you had proper backing when you face down the big cheeses. Also, and this is just an idea you can shitcan if you wish, but after the team knows I’d approach the PR department to make a video starring you and Marcus. I don’t know what song you could use or anything, I’m not musical but those videos have been crazy popular. If you two pick a good song, something about bridges or friendship or love, then I think you might sway more of the fans. Some will hate you for being you, but they’re a small minority, and hopefully the majority will drown out the hate with rainbow glitter.” I stared at him. “Or not. Like I said, I’m not really the creative type like Criswell, but—”
“No, no, that’s a pretty great idea, actually. Thanks, Bean.” I shook his hand vigorously, my mind already working on trying to find songs for this video that Marcus and I could do. No, not could, should. Would. We would do whether the teams liked it or not. Sometimes music spoke better than mere words ever could, especially if those words came from two lovestruck goalies.
“You’re welcome. Now let’s go wash the stink off and see where we’re heading for food. I think it’s Greck’s turn to choose.”
