Chapter 34
EVAN
After our day off, and we’d said goodbye to our visiting friends, life hit fast forward. The two months we’d had to prepare for Milano Cortina evaporated.
The whole time, Perry was the one keeping things together, keeping everyone on point, making sure we ate regularly, slept as much as we should, showered, and talked to each other about things not related to curling. He did all the things I was used to him doing while Alan kept our game on track.
We were following them down a hallway towards our first Olympic game when Robbie leaned close and whispered, “Ever feel like you’re just floating along in their wake?”
I grinned. “Hell yes.”
“I’m still trying to get my head around the fact I’ve been out and proud my whole life and the first parade I’ve ever been in was the Opening Ceremonies for the fucking Olympics.”
“Right?”
“You guys ready?” Alan asked.
“As I’ll ever be.” I smiled at him and he quickly dropped a kiss on my lips before we were in sight of the crowds and cameras.
I don’t want to say we glided through the round robin, because the stress was just short of debilitating, and playing two games a day, gruelling.
We did end up in the semi-finals in top spot, playing Finland. We had played them in the round robin, but it had been our first game and I had been so nervous and stressed out I barely remembered it, never mind any of their names.
Two of their members looked to be in their forties, while the other two were closer to my, Perry’s, and Robbie’s age, in their early to mid-twenties. They were all, except their Skip, friendly and talkative, now that the initial nerves had calmed some for all of us.
As we waited outside the rink to be told to go in, there was an excited, nervous, but friendly vibe, which made me think it would be a good game.
I gave a thumbs up to one of their players, who grinned wide and returned the gesture. I’d never communicated through charades more in my life. Thank goodness for Carol, who could sort of speak to some of them in French, though his French and theirs wasn’t exactly the same language.
We were standing, both teams at one end of the rink, waiting to be introduced and for the game to start when one of the younger members started babbling at us in enthusiastic Finnish.
“We need Mikko,” I said to Robbie.
He nodded. “He actually taught me a phrase.” He turned to the younger man and said, “Kirjoita se muistiin. N?yt?n yst?v?lleni. H?n osaa k??nt??.”
Which was when we discovered one of them could speak English, because he laughed and said, “Your accent is very bad.”
Robbie also laughed. “That’s what Mikko says too. That was the only thing I know how to say. I hope he taught me to tell someone to write it down so he could translate.”
The man nodded. “More or less. I’m Matti. Vice-skip.” He held out a hand. “Very good to meet you.”
“And you.” We both shook his hand and he proceeded to introduce everyone.
“This is Juhani. He’s our First.” He clapped a hand on the friendly young man’s shoulder. “And our Skip is Onni. He is very quiet.”
I nodded. “We have a friend who is Finnish. Our team manager. He mostly only talks to Robbie.” I pointed at Robbie who waved and nodded.
Matti waved back. “I looked you all up. Mikko Kivimaki. He has relatives in a small town about fifty kilometres from the city where I grew up.”
“That’s wild.”
“It happens more than you expect. Finnish families used to be very large, and names easy to track. His people probably already know they are his people.”
It was uncomfortably disconcerting how often that happened.
People we hadn’t spoken to in years, and in some cases, never spoken to, came out of the woodwork to associate themselves with us because of our higher-than-normal profile.
Being out gay athletes in the Olympics somehow made us noteworthy.
Even Andre was suddenly happy to be part of our backstory, which to me was just creepy AF and it pissed Perry off.
I hoped whatever family Mikko might have in Finland was nice to him, if they ever tried to contact him.
“Over there is Tapio,” Matti said, pointing.
A huge man about my age looked up at his name.
My gaydar went off like a claxon in my head as soon as we made eye contact.
Outwardly, he was tall, rugged, with a beard shadow as blond as the hair on his head, but his gaze was soft, almost careful, his smile shy.
“He doesn’t speak English but he asked me to tell you he’s very thankful for you and your team’s openness.
He’s not one to make public statements but he is grateful when his husband comes to see him play and he can feel freer to acknowledge who he is.
In Finland, there is little stigma but in the sports world… ”
“I am a public statement,” I said, grinning. “So there was literally no chance we were going to fly under the radar. I’m happy it makes people’s lives easier. I know it means a lot to me to be able to hold Perry’s or Alan’s hand in public. That matters.”
“It does.”
There wasn’t any more time to chat, though, as our team had been called and our names were being announced. It felt weird to walk out there, waving to a crowd who may or may not care who I was, or what this meant to me.
Cheers went up, though, as the four of us walked out to the ice.
Even people in Italy, it seemed, knew who we were.
Perry leaned close to whisper, “We might be the only four Canadians who make no apologies, and people still think we’re all that.”
“Now if we can just win a gold medal.”
“If only.”
Unlike the Trials, we only got one shot at the semi-final game. Win, and we went on to the Gold Medal round. Lose, and we played for Bronze.
Sure, we were playing the lowest rung team in the semis, but they were fourth place in the overall standings of world-class curlers, so not exactly pushovers.
And they were nice. I almost felt bad whenever one of our guys knocked one of their rocks out of play.
Almost. Juhani was so much fun: he had only a few English words, but we managed with gestures and a lot of laughing.
I got looks from the rest of the team, but for the first time since we’d arrived, I was having more fun than stress, and that was something.
My game was a lot less erratic than it had been all week too.
“You should feel bad that you’re using his good nature to help you beat him,” Perry said to me at one point while we waited for Alan to set up Carol’s next shot.
Our mics were off since we weren’t part of the play right then, and I snorted. “He’s also playing way better than he did our first game.”
“It was the first game. We were all rough.”
“Not Alan.”
“Yes, well. That’s Alan. Nothing ruffles him. Not out here anyway.”
“You’re not wrong.”
“You two ready?” Carol asked as he slid from the game end, having consulted with Alan, to the hack.
“We are,” I assured him.
“Hope you were listening!” he called over his shoulder as he glided by.
We had been. When Alan told us to broom for the inside curl, we broomed, guiding Carol’s stone to the exact spot on the centre line where it couldn’t be touched until later, and where it would do us the most good.
“Good job,” Alan said, patting Perry, then me on our backs as we passed him.
“Of course.”
“Don’t get cocky. And I know you’re making friends with the nice young Finnish lad, but don’t lose your focus now.”
I stuck out my tongue at him. “Jealous?”
His glare was hot as fuck, and though he didn’t kiss me—it would have been hella unprofessional—it felt like he’d nailed me to the score board and planted one on me. I was that breathless from just the way his eyes got dark and his frown smouldered.
“Yikes,” Perry whispered. “Why do I feel like you’re getting your ass pounded tonight?”
“One way or the other,” I muttered.
“I’m there for either way.”
“Thanks for that.”
He just smirked. “Fucking or spanking, I’m sure you earned it either way.”
I sighed. “Probably.”
“Boys,” Alan muttered. “Focus, please.”
“Yes, daddy,” Perry teased, which earned him a heartfelt growl.
We were both laughing as we made our way back to our posts to wait for our next turn to broom.
We did beat the Finns by a handy margin. I was both calmed by the fact the game went the way I thought it should, and hyper nervy because that meant our next game determined if we won a gold medal or not.
There was no way not to be over-excited by the prospect, much as we had always known this was the end goal.
We got back to our rooms in the Olympic Village positively giddy with it. Even Alan was more animated than usual, and though he still didn’t say much, Mikko was grinning ear to ear.