Chapter Eight #4
He accelerated backward before initiating the turn exactly where I'd indicated.
The improvement was obvious.
Instead of forcing the transition, his entire body rotated as a single fluid movement. His skates bit cleanly into the ice and he exploded forward carrying noticeably more speed than he had only seconds earlier.
He circled back toward me wearing the broadest grin I'd seen since we'd met.
"You're brilliant, Jack. That felt completely different."
I returned his smile and lifted an enthusiastic thumbs-up. The noise of the arena, the rest of the team, and even Dad's voice faded into the background. All either of us seemed to notice was the other.
Practice continued for another ninety minutes as Dad pointed out errors from the Inland Northwest game, every player trying to incorporate the adjustments into transition drills before moving into battle exercises, line rushes, and special teams.
Dad kept the pace high from beginning to end, stopping only when he wanted to reinforce a teaching point before sending everyone straight back into the next exercise.
By the time the final whistle echoed around the arena, every jersey was soaked through with sweat despite the cold air surrounding the ice.
The players drifted toward the locker room in small groups, already replaying drills and arguing over who had performed the worst when trying to imitate my transitions. Mason slowed beside me before glancing toward Dad, who remained near the benches discussing something with Nolan Pierce.
"I think we should do it now."
I'd been thinking exactly the same thing.
The nerves I'd managed to keep under control throughout practice returned. Telling Dad I was gay had never featured in any plan I'd made for my life, yet hiding Mason already felt wrong. Together we crossed the ice.
Dad noticed us approaching, frowned, and dismissed Nolan. "We'll finish this tomorrow."
Once we were alone, his attention moved between us.
"Everything all right?"
Can we talk in private?
His expression grew more serious.
"Of course."
A few minutes later the three of us were sitting in his office with the door closed. Dad remained behind his desk, although it was obvious from the way he watched us that he already knew this wasn't a conversation about hockey.
"What is it?"
My hands felt strangely unsteady as I typed.
I've met someone.
It's Mason, Dad. I'm gay.
For several long seconds he read the screen before raising his eyes to meet mine. Then he pinned his gaze on Mason.
Mason didn't hesitate.
"Jack and I care about each other, Coach. We know we haven't known each other very long, but we wanted you to hear it from us first because you're Jack's father and my coach. I'll be telling my family next, but until then we'd like to keep this between the people who need to know."
Dad leaned back in his chair, the surprise obvious but not accompanied by disappointment.
"So...this started when you arrived?"
"The attraction was there from the beginning. Yesterday we finally admitted it to each other, and last night we decided we wanted to see where the relationship could lead."
Dad studied me.
"Is this what you want?"
I didn't hesitate and signed yes.
Dad didn't answer immediately.
He studied my face for several long moments, then looked across at Mason before returning his attention to me. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, but I could see him working through everything we'd just told him.
Finally, he nodded.
"Then that's the only answer I needed."
Relief swept through me so quickly my knees weakened.
Dad folded his hands on the desk.
"I'm your father before I'm your coach, Jack. Nothing about that changes." His attention shifted to Mason. "As your coach, I'll tell you exactly what I'd tell any player in a relationship. Don't bring it into the locker room, don't let it divide the team, and don't allow it to affect your hockey."
"It won't," Mason answered.
"I believe you."
Dad's expression softened.
"I'll admit I'm a little surprised. Not because you're gay." He gave a faint shake of his head. "Only because you've guarded your private life so carefully that I stopped expecting anyone would ever get close enough to matter."
I felt a lump rise in my throat as I typed.
I just hadn't met someone who made me want more.
Dad read the words twice before standing and walking around the desk. Without saying another word, he pulled me into a hug. When he stepped back, his hand rested briefly on my shoulder.
"Take care of each other."
"We will," Mason assured him.
Satisfied, Dad nodded.
"Now get out of my office before the rest of the coaching staff starts wondering why I've disappeared."
The tension dissolved instantly.
As Mason and I stepped back into the corridor, the weight I'd carried for years felt noticeably lighter.
I'd expected questions, disappointment, perhaps even resistance.
Instead, Dad had accepted us without hesitation, and for the first time since Mason walked into my life I no longer felt as though our future depended on hiding who we were.