Chapter 20
Duffy
My dad was funny about his Catholicism. He went to Mass every week without fail, but aside from that, he cursed like a sailor and did whatever the hell he wanted.
I think he found comfort in the ritual of it all more than anything.
So I shouldn’t have been surprised when we got to the cemetery and Father Gordy was there, but I was. I’d assumed we—me, my dad, and my brothers—would lay flowers on her grave and have some quiet time remembering her.
I hadn’t anticipated a priest joining us to say a few words.
I didn’t have a problem with it, but it made the remembrance feel more somber, more monumental.
Reminded me way too much of the funeral itself.
I felt my phone buzz in my jacket pocket while he spoke, and even though I knew I shouldn’t, I quickly glanced at it.
Connor: Hey, Duff. So, your dad wanted me to come to the cemetery to be there for you, to provide some support.
I just got here, but I don’t want to interrupt if you would prefer to do this alone.
Let me know your thoughts when you have a second and if I don’t hear from you, I will just steer clear and make my excuses to Tony later.
Unbelievable. I glanced over at my dad, deep in thought as he listened to the priest, and I was touched that he’d worried enough about me to reach out to Connor.
And as weird as it sounded, even though he wasn’t my real boyfriend and everything with us was confusing, I wanted to see him.
I just knew that seeing him would make me feel a little better.
Less alone. Somehow, he’d quickly become my rock of sorts, a safe space I hadn’t found with anyone else during the long, hard year of being strong for my dad.
It was kind of a scary revelation, because there was no way it was a good idea to need someone so much so early, but I didn’t want to think about it right now.
I just wanted Connor with me. I mean, I knew that was probably selfish; he’d already been there for my family in so many ways in the relatively short time we’d known each other.
I felt like all I’d been doing was taking, but couldn’t I let myself take just a little bit more, just for today?
After a moment of hesitation, I quickly shot off a text before I changed my mind: Don’t feel obligated, because cemeteries are awful, but you wouldn’t be interrupting.
I put my phone away and tried to focus, but it lasted only a minute before I saw movement in my peripheral vision.
I looked to my right, and there he was. Six foot five, dressed in a suit with a nice wool overcoat, walking through the cemetery like he was Darcy walking across the meadow to reach Lizzie in the early-morning light.
My heart was in my throat as I watched him move among the changing maple trees, their gold and orange leaves the perfect autumnal backdrop for his handsome visage.
Everything suddenly felt a little less painful knowing he was there.
Which was so weird.
We’d been on a date and a half—not even two—and exchanged one very hot kiss; that was it. It made sense that I’d be into him, but not that having him near me would be comforting, right?
When he got to the gravesite, he wordlessly set a bouquet of flowers next to her headstone before coming to stand beside me.
Warmth bloomed in my chest when I felt his fingers slide between mine.
I looked up and my eyes met his, and the warmth in my chest turned into a fire that spread through my entire body when he gave me a sweet smile that let me know he didn’t want me to be sad.
As soon as Father Gordy stopped talking, my dad immediately said, “Hey, Gordy, have you met Connor Cunningham?”
I couldn’t help but laugh out loud as my heartbroken father excitedly introduced my “boyfriend” to the priest who had just spent thirty minutes reminding us that the dead were never truly lost to us.
“Thanks for coming, Cunningham,” Matty said, going in for a handshake but doing that thing I’d never understand where they ended up performing a cool half–back slap bro handshake.
How did they know the choreography? Was it taught in locker rooms? I’d never get it, but I watched as Ty and Joey did the same thing with Connor.
“Hey, we’re gonna go get an early dinner at Corrine’s Diner—it was our mom’s favorite restaurant,” Ty said. “Do you want to join us?”
Connor looked at me, as if asking if he was allowed to come.
“Don’t feel obligated, I’m sure you’re busy prepping for the game,” I said, wondering yet again what a typical workday looked like for him. Were Saturdays big workout days or low-key film studies?
I had no idea.
I also didn’t want him to feel unwelcome after he came all the way here for us, so I added, “But if you have time, they have a really good menu.”
“Home Saturdays are early mornings only, so I’m good until I have to be at the hotel later,” he said.
I remembered reading that most NFL teams stayed at hotels the night before home games, just to ensure everyone was locked in and behaving.
Apparently, it was true.
It was a somber day, and the sparkle was definitely missing from my dad’s eyes, but I was shocked by how comfortable dinner was. It was nice having Connor there because he served as a receiver of sorts, a place for us to direct our stories about her.
Since Connor hadn’t known her, my dad was able to tell the funny stories everyone else already knew, the ones he loved to tell the most, like how he proposed to my mom at a football tailgate.
We were able to laugh with our whole stomachs as Connor cracked up and took in every story, squeezing my hand as we laughed together.
After dinner, we all went home and my dad headed down to the basement to watch TV.
I wanted to keep distracting and protecting him, but kind of like me at the cemetery the night before, I realized he probably needed some time to himself.
I went to my room and studied for a few hours, and then I sent Connor a text.
I cannot thank you enough for everything that you did for my dad and all of us last night and today. Good luck tomorrow.
Connor: Are you going to be at the game?
I leaned my head back against the headboard and considered it.
Suddenly it didn’t seem so terrifying, being back in our seats.
As I imagined returning to the scene of the crime, I realized I wasn’t scared anymore. Maybe I was a delusional fool, but after the hockey game with Connor and the positive reception we’d been getting, I felt like it was safe to finally come out of my cave.
I texted: I think I might be.
Connor: Then I’ll try not to drop any passes.
Me: YOU SHOULD ALWAYS TRY NOT TO DROP ANY PASSES, CUNNINGHAM, BECAUSE IT IS YOUR JOB TO CATCH THEM.
Connor: Have I told you how much I enjoy it when you bust my ass?
I hated the annoying squeal that came out of me when I read his text, but God. I really, really, really liked him.
So I coyly texted: Go get some sleep so you don’t screw up tomorrow.
Connor: Oh, you are a fucking FLIRT, Distefano. Sweet dreams.