Chapter 30 #2
Then, he speaks up. “Bowling league teams and summer camps are no joke. Your mother told me your summer programs start at eight-thirty and run until five, and you’ve got evening lessons too?
Then a late-night adult league starting in the fall?
How are you going to make time to get back on the lane? ”
I knew it wouldn’t be long before his silence turned into an attempt to get me back to competing.
“I might not, Dad. And I’m content with that right now. I’m going to be busy.” I let out a deep breath.
Dad and I are still standing there when a voice cuts in, along with a hand tapping my shoulder. “Mr. Thorne? Hey—sorry, I hope I’m not interrupting?”
I shift my body slightly. A woman is beside me, smiling like she’s been waiting for the right moment to grab my attention.
“You’re fine. Can I help you find something?”
“No, no. You’ve done enough, actually. I’m not sure if you remember my son, Gavin?”
“Yes! Of course I do. I’m so glad you guys could make it out today. Albuquerque is quite a distance away.”
“It is, but the drive was worth it. Thank goodness my husband stayed home with the baby. I’m glad I get to experience some alone time with Gavin. We really appreciate you getting us the tickets for today. Gavin’s been waiting for the tournament all week.” She points over my shoulder. “Lane 13.”
I follow her gesture. Gavin stands in a short line, slightly bobbing back and forth as he waits patiently for his turn to have Francis Demoy sign a poster his mom must have bought at the merch stand.
Beside me, his mom lets out a breath that seems to empty her out completely.
Her focus is fixed on her son as he steps up to shake Francis’s hand.
“It’s been amazing seeing him like this.
Honestly, I never thought I’d find something he’d care about this much.
I wish we had a bowling alley near us in Albuquerque with as much heart and excitement as Spare Time. Did they just open?”
“Funny you ask,” I say gently. “Spare Time has been around for decades. It’s a family-run business. I just manage it now, but the owner has really made a lot of changes to it from years past.”
“A family business still going strong in this economy? That’s even better. It’s exactly what you need in a small-town community.” She grabs the strap of her purse hanging from her shoulder. “I’ll leave you to your conversation. I just couldn’t leave without thanking you.”
I nod.
“I’m going to head over and surprise Gavin before the tournament starts. I just signed him up for one of your weekend-long training camps before the new school year starts. Another long drive to Pflugerville, but it’s worth it.” She smiles and walks away.
“See, Dad? Spare Time is more than just an alley. Bowling is more than just trophies. It brings in community.”
I feel his arm move behind me as he reaches for my shoulder. “I’m no Arsenio Jiménez. I don’t know much about teaching kids. You’ve made it pretty clear I’m not any good at it.” He pauses. “But if you need a hand with the adults, I’m only a phone call away.”
The offer stuns me, even if it’s only for a moment.
“I’ll let you know.” I turn to look at him. “Thanks.”
He sighs. “I’m going to grab your mother and take a seat. She’s probably livestreaming somewhere or something.” With that, he puts his hands in his pockets and shuffles away.
It isn’t until then I see he’s wearing one of my jerseys.
Thorne stitched across the back. The Dexter Bowling emblem sits beneath it. Dexter, one of my former sponsors, dropped me after I announced I wasn’t competing in the championship. Understandably.
Seeing him in it is more proof he hasn’t fully let go.
Again. That’s okay.
“Excuse me? Mr. Thorne?” another voice rises behind me.
I don’t turn right away, but I feel someone stepping into the spot where my father just was. When I finally look up and see his face, recognition lands like a stone in my stomach.
“The USBC is very pleased with Spare Time, Mr. Thorne. When I did my visit, the alley was not in the great shape it is in today. You and Mr. Jiménez should be very proud.”
“Mr. Swingston. It’s nice to see you again.
” I roll my shoulders and crack my neck from side to side, hoping he’s either forgotten—or forgiven—the fact I faked my identity to hide my relationship with the potential hosting alley’s owner, all while still semi-planning to compete in the championship as a professional bowler.
“Call me Gary,” he says with a grin. “May I call you Truett? Or are you still going by Damien these days?” He chuckles.
“About that…” I start.
“About what? The part where you tried to lie about who you were to someone from the United States Bowling Congress?” He raises an eyebrow.
“You’re a nationally recognized professional bowler who thought a member from a nationally recognized bowling league wouldn’t know who you were.
I mean, come on. It’s like LeBron walking into an NBA Board of Governors meeting in sunglasses and saying his name’s Frank.
” He snorts, clearly amused with himself.
“If you knew, why didn’t you rat us out for breaking the congress’s fraternization policy?”
“Don’t get me wrong. I questioned it when I walked in on you doing…
whatever it was the two of you were doing, if you know what I mean.
” His lips widen, showing an awkward smile.
“I could’ve reported it to the USBC, but I didn’t see a reason to get them involved.
We’re in Texas. There are already too many people who make a habit of stepping into other people’s private lives.
Pflugerville has been more accepting than most towns. I would prefer it stayed that way.”
I nod, reminded there are still good people in small towns who try not to make things worse than they need to be.
“Well, we appreciate that. Ezra and I hit some bumps along the way, but we’re together—running things here in the alley.
I don’t think I’ll be competing in any more tournaments or championships anytime soon, so we won’t have to fake any more identities or worry about any more complicated dual relationship rules. ”
“That’s good to hear,” he says with a grin. “Because clearly your secret was eating me alive.”
I smile.
He continues, “Speaking of eating me alive, what’s in y’all’s nacho cheese? Please excuse me.”
“Oh, yes, the bathrooms are right down the—” I start, but he’s already sprinting off in the right direction.
I call after him, “And thanks for the feedback! Still working out a few more kinks. We’ll find a better cheese vendor!”
He waves as he scurries toward the restroom.
The announcer’s voice booms over the speakers. “The first frame of the tournament is about to begin. Blake Fisher makes his way to the approach for the first roll.”
The voice fades, and I take a seat to watch the game unfold. Every patron is seated and ready for the first throw. The focus is so strong, you can barely hear a pin drop.
By habit, I reach across my chest and pat twice.
This time, my hand doesn’t find my bowling pin patch.
It finds my Spare Time name tag instead.
For a moment, a flicker of envy stirs in me, maybe wishing it were me out there.
But just as quickly, it disappears when Ezra steps beside me, a small bag of tortilla chips and a container of nacho cheese in hand.
Now knowing what that little container of goo can do, I shake my head nervously at the cheese, but Ezra places his snacks on the table next to us and nudges my shoulder gently with his. “You okay? Does watching all this bring anything up for you?”
I smile, reaching to hold his hand. “Nothing negative. Promise.” I lean over and give him a kiss on his cheek. “It’s perfect. Especially since I get to watch it with you. In our home.”
“Good. I’m proud of you for pulling all of this together.” He looks across the alley. “I think my dad would be happy with my selection for new manager.” He meets my eyes, his fingers brushing gently over my knuckles as he squeezes my hand just a little. “I think that’s all he ever expected of me.”
“And what’s that?”
“To not give up. To follow my heart.”
Ezra and I press together, our hands still entwined. The cheers after Blake Fisher’s first frame victory send echoes all around us.
Our work has paid off, and the alley radiates proof of everything we’ve accomplished.
Feeling more present, I take in all our little victories, small on their own but enormous because we achieved them together.
My future feels lighter now, less like something I have to carry by myself, less like a trophy I have to win to please others.
With Ezra here at my side, I just know we can handle anything.
Together.