Page 120 of King of the Crease

Nick hands me a tissue.

“These are happy tears, I think.” Whatever they are, I wipe them away. Nick squeezes my hand. His eyes are misty, too.

Even Alfred, standing at the foot of the bleachers, stealthily wipes a tear from under his sunglasses.

I glance a few rows down to where Cathy and Oliver are seated. Alone. No other family or friends with them. Cathy may drive a Lexus, but she doesn’t have the Comebacks.

“You did a good job, Hank,” Griffin says. “You raised a great kid.”

Worrying is a full-time job when you’re a parent. Will my kid be the one kid who doesn’t potty train? Will Brody survive a rough divorce and shuttling between two houses for his adolescence? Will he fit in and find friends? Will he be okay with a dad who’s dating a man who’s on track to be a literal king?

And as I watch him collect his diploma, a newfound peace comes over me. It all worked out. I did the best I could, and for the first time, I can admit to myself that it was good enough.

Am I ready to do it all over again?

I turn to Nick, and I find that same peace in his beautiful, proud gaze.

On the football field post-ceremony, families take pictures with their graduates. There are also quite a few who want to take pictures with Nick. Because he’s a nice guy, he graciously allows some pictures. After a few, Alfred steps in and ends the photo sessions.

My Comebacks teammates snack on Fig Newtons. Agnes got us all into them. I thought a snack pastry that’s trying to be a fruit wouldn’t work, but I was wrong.

Brody’s getting tired of all the pictures I’m making him be in. He’s no longer hiding his boredom.

“Dad, come on.” Brody fans himself with a graduation program. He puts on sunglasses.

I made us take pictures with my friends and their kids, with just the kids, with Nick, with Millie’s family, and with Alfred. (He seemed to like it!) I can see why he’s over it.

“We need a picture of the three of us.” I take Nick’s hand and bring him in. “If Your Majesty is done taking pictures.”

“Your Majesty is very done. I forget how pushy Americans can be.”

“Brody, take off your sunglasses,” I say.

“It’s sunny, though.”

“He looks good! Very cool,” Millie says, her boys hanging around her legs. “He’s getting his laid-back, California vibe down before the fall.”

“Promise us you won’t start saying stuff like ‘radical’ and ‘cowabunga,’” Tanner says.

“Have you met anyone from California in the last thirty years?” Des arches an eyebrow at his husband. “Also, he’s going to Stanford, not becoming a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle. Here, I’ll take the picture.”

Des takes out his phone. “Get close. Like you like each other.”

My friends take out their phones, too.

Brody stands in the middle. Nick and I flank him. The sun glares in my eyes. Now I get why he’s wearing sunglasses.

Nick smooths a sneaky finger over my hand as cameras go off.

“We’re already planning your going away party, Hank,” Jack says. “Not a bar crawl this time.”

My friends and I exchange a look mixed with sorrow and smiles. In two months, I will be moving out of the town I’ve lived in nearly my whole life, starting a new chapter with Nick in Ardenia. It still hasn’t hit me yet.

“I can’t believe it,” says Griffin. “End of an era.”

“I’ll be back to visit.”

“It won’t be the same. But we’re excited for you,” Tanner says.