Breaking Ryan Baylor （43）
"You nervous?” Hayes asked, as the ETA on the GPS now showed two minutes.
“Why would I be nervous?” Ryan asked.
“Um, let’s see. Were you around for the last eight fuckin’ months, or did I dream all this shit?”
“Why? Are you?”
“Nah. More excited than nervous. I miss her, man.”
“Me too.”
It was May, and hockey season had ended about a month ago with Bridgeport failing to make the post-season for the third year in a row.
Hayes had gotten lucky: there were no lingering complications from his concussion, and the hit hadn’t reinjured his shoulder. The league had also reviewed the play and determined that number 53’s hit was, in fact, dirty. He was given a $2,000 fine and a three-game suspension for it. After only having to sit out for a week, Hayes played the rest of the season flawlessly and was immediately called up to New York for the Islanders’ post-season, which had ended very quickly after they’d gotten swept in round one by the Devils.
It’d become very clear to everyone that Hayes had played in his last game as a Bridgeport Islander and would be on the opening night roster for New York when October rolled around.
“No one deserves it more than you, kid. No one,” Hastings had told him, pulling him in for a hug after the final game at Total Mortgage Arena.
Ryan had also gotten somewhat lucky. At his hearing, he’d only been assessed a $3,000 fine and a five-game suspension, allowing him to finish his season with Bridgeport.
His future there, however, hung in the balance.
“Baylor, we love you. We really do, but there’s no question you’re a liability,” Hastings had said to him during his post-season review meeting. “You fly off the handle too quickly. You gotta learn to get your emotions under control.”
“Coach, I’m not some loose cannon. Everything I did was to protect the people I love the most. If that makes me a liability, then so be it. I’ll never apologize for that.”
“Fair enough. Listen, you’ve got heart. That much is for sure. You played your ass off, you worked on whatever we asked you to work on without hesitation, and I respect that about you, Baylor. I don’t know what Sellars has planned for you, but whatever it is, and as much of a pain the fucking dick you’ve been? It’s been an honor coaching you, kid. I mean that.”
“Holy shit,” Hayes remarked, as they made a right onto the street and pulled into the driveway. “Mar got herself a fuckin’ sugar daddy, eh?”
“Good for her. She deserves to be happy,” Ryan said, parking the car they’d rented, as they both got out and he grabbed a briefcase from the trunk.
“The fuck’s in there anyway?” Hayes asked, pointing to it. “You servin’ her with court papers or some shit?
Ryan laughed. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Oh, you got secrets now? That’s fine, Rook. I see how it is. Five months in and we’re gonna start hidin’ shit from each other?”
“Stop being so damn dramatic, will you? Jesus, you’re like a teenage girl.”
“Yeah, you weren’t sayin’ that last night when I was swallowin' on your cock, were you?”
They approached the house that Amara and Jake shared, having been invited to attend a sort of months-late housewarming party. They’d been lucky to find a parking spot, as there were cars and people everywhere, with tons of kids running around and a huge blow-up waterslide on the front lawn.
As they came to the door, Ryan turned to Hayes. “You see all these children? You need to behave. You can’t be droppin’ F-bombs every other word, OK? Behave.” They opened the screen door and walked into the beautifully decorated, spotless home, looking around and taking it all in.
“I bet she’s so fuckin’ happy here,” Hayes said. “This is amazing.”
“Yo, boys!” a familiar voice called, coming around the corner. “Thought that was you. Mar told me you guys were gonna be here.”
“Dunny, what’s good?” Hayes went in for a hug, then extended his hand to shake Mark’s, with Ryan doing the same.
“This is beautiful, huh? Did you see the pool and the private beach? It’s like something out of a fairy tale.” Nick turned to Mark. “We need to step our game up, babe. Come on, let me take you guys out back. I think she’s out by the pool.”
There was an area in the foyer where people had been leaving their bags and purses, so Ryan set the briefcase down before following Nick and Hayes through the kitchen, out the sliding glass doors, and to the pool area.
He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her.
She donned a sexy, yet modest black, one-piece bathing suit with a sheer black cover-up wrapped around her waist and huge red sunglasses. She leaned down, consoling a little girl who was crying because she’d scraped her knee. Jake had shown up and handed her a bandage and some towels, and she quickly cleaned the wound and applied the bandage.
“See? Good as new! You got this.” She kissed her on the top of the head. “Now get back out there and play with your friends, sweetie.”
“Thanks, Aunt Mar!” she called, before running off. Amara gathered up the towels and trash, turned towards the patio, and that’s when she spotted him.
Their eyes met, and Hayes immediately looked over at Ryan. “Aaaand, there it is,” he teased, as he watched Ryan’s eyes fill, then overflow onto his cheeks within seconds.
He didn’t move, but she hurried over to him, and the two hugged for what seemed like hours, both of them in tears.
“Hi,” she finally said, wiping her eyes and taking a step back from him.
“Hi.”
“I’m so glad you came.”
“Me too.”
“So, like, what the fuck am I, some asshole off the street?” Hayes bitched, as Amara grabbed him and pulled him in for a hug.
“Hi, Tyler.” She leaned into his ear. “Watch your mouth, please. There are kids everywhere.”
“Sorry, babe,” he apologized. “I’ll do my best.”
She reached over to Ryan, inviting him to join them, and the three of them stood silently hugging for a bit.
“This kid,” Hayes said, pointing at Ryan as they finally broke away from each other. “Every time he sees you, he bawls. Stop bein’ such a bitch, man.”
“Sorry, I can’t help it,” he said, wiping his eyes. “This...Mar, wow. It’s unbelievable.”
“Tell me about it. I still pinch myself daily to make sure I’m not dreaming.”
“Baylor and Hayes!” Jake yelled, appearing behind them and placing one hand on each of their shoulders. “Glad you could make it down here, gentlemen.”
“I see you’re takin’ care of our girl quite well,” Hayes said.
“You know it,” he said, looking at Amara. “You give ‘em the tour yet?”
“No, but let’s go. Honestly,” she turned to Ryan, “I need to get away for a bit. You know me and people.”
“Catch up with you guys later,” Jake called, heading over to the pool as they turned to go inside the house.
She’d led them around, showing them the downstairs, then the upstairs, including their master suite complete with his and hers walk-in closets. “It’s not a huge house, but the space is maximized to perfection. And this,” she said, opening the last in the hallway on the right, “is my respite.”
There was a huge desk in the middle of the room with bookshelves holding color-coordinated spines along the back wall. A small couch was positioned under the bay window that overlooked the beach, and the walls were decorated with some of her favorite published pieces of writing that Jake had framed for her. “It’s nice having a place all to myself where I can just sit and read or write,” she said.
“You mean where you don’t have two needy, dickhead hockey boys up your ass 24/7?” Hayes joked. “Don’t lie. You miss that shit.”
She shrugged. “Sometimes, I suppose.”
Just then, a muffled, high-pitched bark echoed throughout the hallway.
“Oh my God. And you have a fuckin’ dog? Bitch is out here livin’ the literal American dream!”
She laughed. “Be right back,” she said, leaving for a few seconds before returning with the teeniest, fluffiest golden retriever puppy. She shut the door behind her and plopped him onto the floor, where he took off right towards Ryan. The pup began sniffing him and immediately mounted his leg and went to town. “Baylor! No!”
“What’d I do?” Ryan said, throwing his hands up, confused.
“No, it’s...his name. We named him…Baylor.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake! All I’m sayin’? You better bust out another one of those fuzzy ‘lil fuckers named Hayes, woman, or I’m outta here."
Ryan blushed. “I’m flattered. But, um, why?”
“Well, Jake and I couldn’t come up with a name for him. We fought over just about every single one of them. Then it dawned on us: he’s adorable, he’s sweet but with a bit of an attitude, he’s blonde, he cries a lot, and he literally never stops humping things. So,” she shrugged. “Baylor.”
“That’s...actually perfect.” Ryan got down on his hands and knees and rolled onto his back, giggling as the dog crawled all over him and shooing him away when he began humping various parts of his body. “Oh, I love him!”
“He’s due to go outside. Can you take him out for me?” she asked Ryan. “His leash and collar are right next to the patio doors.”
“Yup. Come on, buddy.” He scooped the puppy up and kissed it. “God, I fucking love dogs so much!” he said, as he left the room.
Amara had a seat next to Hayes on the couch, and he put his arm around her, kissing the top of her head. “You’re OK?” he asked.
“I’m so OK, Ty. I miss you guys so much, but I do look forward to our little Facetime chats every couple of weeks. They help ease the pain a bit.”
“I like ‘em, too. And hey: just so you know? You fuckin’ deserve all of this.”
“I know.”
He picked up her left hand and examined it. “And, uh...nah?”
“Nope, not yet,” she laughed. “Still got just under two years of alimony payments to collect first. Then, maybe someday.”
“Well, I better be in the wedding since I can’t even get a puppy named after me.”
She smiled. “You’d be my man of honor. You know, because I don’t have one single female friend, sad as that is.”
“I mean, you got Rook. Close enough.”
“True,” she laughed. “But you really are my best friend, Ty.”
“I know that,” he said, as Ryan came back in without the puppy, but holding the briefcase and three beers.
“I was brutally attacked by a mob of children, and they took the puppy. Who are all these kids, anyway? It’s like a fucking daycare down there.”
“Jake’s business partners’ kids, mostly, and some are the neighbors. Jake knew everyone’s life story within two weeks. I’m still trying to learn names. I only come out when he forces me to. I’d much rather be in here writing.”
Ryan handed Hayes a beer. “I need some fuckin’ food first, man. I’m gonna head down, and,” he said, taking note of the briefcase, “leave you two to catch up.”
Hayes left the room, and Ryan sat down next to Amara, handing her the beer. “Hey. Here’s to new beginnings,” he said, clinking his bottle with hers and taking a sip. She set hers down on the end table without taking a sip. “No? Won’t drink to that?”
“It’s perfect, really. And it’s not that I won’t drink to that. I, uh, can’t drink to that. Or at all, for that matter.”
He shot her a puzzled look. “Give it up for lent or something? Is it even lent? I don’t fucking know.”
She put her palm flat against her stomach. “Yeah. Or something.”
She could see the wheels turning pretty hard, followed by his eyes bulging out of his skull. “No!”
She nodded.
“No!”
“Yes.”
He jumped up, running his fingers through his hair. “Oh my God. How? I mean, I know how. Oh my God. I mean, how long until, like…”
“It’s super-early. I’m only about eight weeks. I…Ryan, you’re the first person I’ve told. I haven’t even told Jake yet.”
“Mar? You have to tell him!” he yelled excitedly.
“Shhh. Calm down. I will.”
“Shit,” he said, turning away from her. When he turned back around, he had tears streaming down his face again. “Apparently I’m just never gonna stop crying today!” He sat back down next to her, wrapping her in his arms. “You’re gonna be a mom, Mar!”
“I know,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder. “How fucking terrifying is that?” she laughed, wiping her eyes.
“Not terrifying at all. You’re gonna…you’re gonna be such an amazing mom.”
“I hope so,” she said. “But look at me: no one knows but you. No one. So you can’t even tell Ty, OK?”
He nodded. “Of course.”
“So, listen,” he said after they’d sat quietly for a few minutes. “I have a…proposition for you. Feel free to say no, but I’m really hoping you’ll say yes because there’s no one else in the world I’d trust to do it.”
“No pressure,” she joked, as he got up, grabbed a manila envelope from the briefcase, and brought it to her. “What’s this?”
“Open it.”
She pulled the metal tab apart, lifted the flap, and pulled out a stack of papers. She read the first page:
Breaking Ryan Baylor
The memoir of a gay, sex-addicted, anxiety-riddled professional hockey player
“Will you ghostwrite my memoir with me?” he asked softly. “I’ll pay you whatever you want, name your price. You’re just, you’re such a talented writer, and you know all about my strengths and weaknesses. You could add a ton of perspective that I couldn’t. I’ve thought a lot about everything that I’ve been through, and Amara, I really think telling my story could help a lot of people like me.”
He sat down next to her as she continued to flip through the pages. “Right now, it’s just a lot of my random thoughts, but I know you could take them and turn them into a beautiful story. So? What do you think?”
She’d taken notice of some of the preliminary chapter titles: Your Dad is Dead. Her. Him. Her and Him. The Sad Wife in the Red Dress. Self-Deprecation.
Knowing this would be one hell of a rollercoaster ride, she sighed and placed the manuscript on her lap. “I’ll do it, Ryan. But only on one condition.”
“Name it.”
“You’re not paying me one cent. I’m doing it for free.”
“I can’t ask you to do that…”
“You’re not asking. I’m demanding. I won’t take money from you, Ryan. I took enough from you. Let me…let this be me making it right by you, OK?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“It is.”
“Then it’s a go?”
She nodded. “It’s a go.”
He reached over, flipped through the pages, and stopped. “I wanna start with this quote,” he said excitedly, pointing to it. “What do you think?”
She read it:
“I don’t think we talk enough about the in-betweens. The part when you know you want to change something but don’t yet know how, don’t yet feel strong enough, don’t yet know what your first step is. So, to the people in the in-betweens: don’t be disheartened, don’t give up. You’ve done the hard part. Now you just need to take it one small step at a time.” -ALLYISLIA (Instagram)
“Ryan. I think it’s perfect.”