Chapter 15 #2
When Hil was young, he would tell himself that when she was grown, he was going to totally start going out. The second Hillary turned eighteen, he was going to just do all the things that he wanted to do that he hadn’t got to do when he was a teenager.
Of course, now he was going to go and hang out with his grandbaby and not do all the things that he didn’t get to do when he was a teenager.
Because he wasn’t a teenager.
He was an abuelito.
It was funny how life worked out.
“What are you chuckling about, cowboy?” Evan asked.
“About how life never turns out the way you think it’s going to.” He brought the beers over.
“Of course. What, do you mean, me?”
He snorted. “I couldn’t have even begun to imagine you.
I was actually thinking about Hillary. About how when I was a seventeen-year-old, I would tell myself, ‘When this baby turns eighteen, I’m going to go to Rome.
I’m going to go to the bar every night. I’m going to stay out all night long and party until I fall down. ’”
“I can’t imagine being a single dad at seventeen.”
“From what you tell me, guapo, you can’t imagine being a dad.” He winked, taking the sting out of his words. He didn’t mean it ugly-like.
“No, I was never that ambitious, I guess.” Evan took a sip of his beer, contemplating that, he thought.
“I mean, I have a bunch of kids that I mentor, and I’ve done a lot of coaching with youth leagues and stuff over the years, but I always kind of figured I was never around enough to make it where I would have been a good dad.
God knows I knew I was queer from the time I was like thirteen, and so between that and the fact that I was a hockey player, I didn’t think it was viable. ”
“You’re good with Max. You’re great with Hil, too. I don’t begrudge that.”
Evan reached over and squeezed his leg with one big hand.
“Besides, who says you’re not gonna do all the things you want to do?
Maybe not the first year or two. But once the baby is old enough, we could travel and go to Europe, we could go up to Canada and take the train across. She would like that, I bet.”
Sam had to admit that sounded real nice.
If Hillary had time to do some stuff that wasn’t just being with the baby, and he could get away for two weeks, it would be kind of stunning.
Not that his mama and his sisters wouldn’t help Hillary out if he wanted to go traveling.
But he didn’t want to miss out on any baby milestones or anything.
“I always wanted to go to Italy,” Sam said. “I don’t know why. I don’t have a drop of Italian blood in me. But I’ve always wanted to see the Coliseum and everything in real life.”
“See. It’s good to have goals.” Evan scooted a little closer so they were leaning on each other, and one brawny arm went around the back of his shoulders.
“I would love to take you to Rome and Pompeii where you could see all the neat stuff that they’ve dug up and Venice—not in the summer.
Venice we wouldn’t do in the summer but still. ”
“Little hot and humid, is it?”
“Fuck yes, and the hotels that are awful because a lot of them just don’t have the kind of air conditioning that we’re used to, so you sit and swelter.
” Evan shuddered. “I had air-conditioning retrofitted to my place in Boston because there was no way I was going to live without it. I live on the ice half the year, you know?”
“What do you like best about your house?” Sam knew he was chasing trains, wandering from subject to subject, but that was something he loved to do with Evan. Just throw questions out there and listen to his man ramble.
“I love that it’s a shotgun house. I love that it’s old, a townhouse in the Back Bay.
I love that I bought it furnished and it has all this weird crap in it that I would never have chosen for myself, but somehow it’s a cross between my sports memorabilia and hockey shit and Little Women or something. ”
Sam hooted because he had seen some pictures of Evan’s formal living room, which was painted a buttery yellow and it had Jane Austen furniture in it and shit.
“I’m looking forward to seeing it.”
Evan nodded to him. “Yeah, I’m looking forward to that too. And don’t get me wrong, I love your home. It’s solid as a rock, this house.”
“This place has been in my family for a while, but I’m really excited to see your life.”
Besides, he supposed he was going to be spending some time in Boston even without Evan being there. He couldn’t imagine them having entire summers apart from Natasha. Whole summers where Hil couldn’t see her little girl? Nope.
“You’ve got that look on your face again.”
“Hmm, what look?”
Evan stroked his bottom lip, smoothing it out. “That pinched look that means you’re considering beating Max to death.”
He shook his head. “I just wish if she’d gone with a boy to have a baby, she could have picked somebody local—” He reached for Evan’s hand. “—not that I regret meeting you for a second, but it would have been easier if she picked a local boy.”
“Yeah, and while he’s in college, he’ll be busy in the summers.
Once he goes pro, he’ll have time off in the summer, even if he does training camps.
But, cowboy, who knows where he’ll be? He’s in Massachusetts right now, but that’s no guarantee that he’s gonna play for Boston. He could live anywhere, right?”
Sam’s lips flattened out. “Assuming he gets drafted.”
“Yeah, and if he doesn’t, then that assumes he’ll end up at the AHS, which he may or may not. It depends on how much he fucks off his college career.” Evan sat back and rested his head on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, which made Sam smile. Evan was worried about Max; he could tell.
It didn’t necessarily give him confidence in the boy, he reckoned, but at the same time, it was good to know Max had Evan in his corner.
Evan rolled his head to the side to look at Sam again. “If he is drafted, he could end up getting traded a lot. You never know. Some guys get a nice contract where there’s a no-trade clause, and they stay at the same team for years. Some of them are in a different team every two years.”
Sam chuckled because he had googled Evan’s career before he really knew Evan well enough to ask about it, and he knew Evan had only played for two teams in his entire career, and that he’d never ended up down in the lower leagues like the AHS for more than physio. “How did it feel when you got traded?”
“Like shit; it sucks to be rejected, and I was playing really well. In fact, that’s why I got traded. Boston needed another good defenseman, and I got put on a D-pair with Bobby. It worked out, but it wasn’t because I was playing poorly.”
“You were putting up some hefty numbers and assists and stuff when you got hurt, huh?”
Evan gave him a wide, happy grin. “Look at you, learning all about hockey.”
“Well, you know,” Sam tilted his head, fighting for a serious expression.
“Mi nietecita? Her other grandparents are hockey people, and her dad is a hockey person, so that makes sense.” He sipped his beer, thinking about how being brave and being honest and being stupid were sometimes the same thing.
“But really I wasn’t learning about hockey—I was learning about the man I was in love with. ”
It wasn’t exactly what he’d intended to say, but he meant it. He genuinely meant it, and so now it was gonna stay right there, hanging between them.
“You—well, I’ll be damned.” Evan grinned at him. “You sure?”
Sam nodded to Evan. “You don’t have to say it. I understand. But I reckon I’m the kind of man who puts his cards out on the table, and you can either take your cards and not play no more, or…” He stopped, grinning because he’d kind of metaphorized himself into a corner.
He was sure that there was a good way to dig out of it, but he sure as shit wasn’t smart enough to know what that was. There was a reason he didn’t play poker very much.
“Good.”
“Huh?”
“I love you too, you psycho, weird-ass damn cowboy. Just tell me that admitting that I’m in deep to a New Mexico man doesn’t mean that I have to all of a sudden learn how to eat green chile, because that ain’t gonna happen.”
He barked out a laugh that almost hurt on the way out. “Oh, gringo, you and your poor belly.”
“Yes, some of us are not made of iron.” Evan stuck his tongue out at Sam. “I think you’re part goat.”
That wouldn’t have been the first time he’d been called that. Wouldn’t be the second either, so God bless.
He reached out and took his guapo’s beer from him, put it aside, and set his own bottle down next to it. “I know that we ain’t gonna get down and dirty, but I do think that—well, I never told a guy I loved him before, and I’d like to kiss to seal the deal.”
Evan’s answer was to lean forward and kiss him once, twice, three times, and then Evan grabbed his neck and pulled him in, kissing him hard, tongue and all.
He felt like there were butterflies filling him up inside. He sat with the feeling, because there was never going to be another one of these.
There would never be another time that he told Evan he loved him for the first time.
This was it, and he wasn’t missing it.