Chapter 30
Martin
I sip my coffee at The Red Cherry counter, listening to Chris and Casey make plans for tomorrow. I study the situation, hoping to slip into the conversation discreetly. Which is impossible, since by now everyone knows, or thinks they know, about this thing between the Captain and me.
“I could come with you,” I say casually.
They both stop talking and stare at me.
“I’m free tomorrow morning.”
“You never came to the game.”
“That’s not true. I came to see Evan.”
“But never to a Leinster game.”
I shrug.
“Are you a rugby fan now?” Casey asks, sneering.
“All you guys do is talk about rugby now, and with Evan joining the team… I’m just trying to keep up, you know.”
“Maybe you’re more interested in players…” Chris comments.
“Just one,” Evan says from behind us. “Right, Dad?”
I snort. “Forget it.”
Evan drops onto the stool next to me and steals the cup from my hands ? a bad habit he definitely picked up from his mother.
“You could have one freshly made,” I say.
“Yours is better, and besides, it’s already ready.”
I shake my head and start tracing imaginary circles on the counter.
“So, you’re thinking of coming to the match, then?” Evan asks.
“If you’re only going to take the piss, then no.”
“Ah, come on, we were only asking,” Chris says.
“You were making assumptions.”
“That’s because you haven’t spilt the tea yet,” she replies.
“You’re grand at writing your own stories; you don’t need my help.”
“You might need ours,” Casey cuts in.
“And why would you think that?”
“Ah, Dad, you’re not exactly…” Evan says.
“Not exactly what?”
“You’re not great at this kind of thing,” my son goes on.
“And what would you know about that?”
Evan just raises an eyebrow.
“You mean I’m not good enough for him?”
“Him?” Casey leans on the counter, elbows down, edging closer to me.
“I meant…” I start, but it’s already too late.
“Please, Dad, don’t. We’ve already put all the pieces together, and after last night…”
“What about last night?” Casey asks.
“Martin was at our house, and then Jamie arrived,” Chris explains.
“And then what happened?” Casey presses.
“Nothing! What could have happened?” Evan says. “Dad almost collapsed, and Jamie was too busy trying not to stare at him!”
I turn to my son, who smiles at me, triumphant.
“That’s right,” he says.
“You’re just messing with me.”
“I can tell it was one of those run-fast-if-you-don’t-want-me-to-jump-on-you kinds of looks.”
“What do you know about that kind of look?” Chris asks.
“Mum, please.”
Chris gives up on Evan and goes back to questioning me.
“So… something’s going on.”
“I’m not discussing this with you.”
“All right, we’ll talk about it for you.” Evan rubs his hands together. “You’re still in the early stages. Maybe you’ve seen each other once or twice. There’s too much awkwardness — and way too much sexual tension — in the air.”
“Evan!” I snap.
“Can’t I say the word ‘sexual’?”
“Not when you’re talking to your dad,” I say.
“Okay, then, let’s just say there was… electricity. You definitely haven’t f—”
“Don’t!” I cut him off.
“I wonder why…”
“Mother of God, Chris, what did we raise?” I turn to his mother.
“I mean, you’re adults. You don’t need that kind of shit to break the ice or figure out if the other one is into it.”
“I can’t believe we’re actually talking about this.”
“So, I’m thinking… the problem is yours. Maybe you don’t feel up to it at all…”
“You are stepping over the line now,” I say.
“Or is it him that has you in a heap, sweating there…?”
“Chris, will you say something to him?” I shout in exasperation.
“Okay, but I was hooked,” Chris replies.
Casey laughs as Evan shifts on his stool triumphantly.
“Evan, you shouldn’t be talking to your dad like that,” she says.
“Is that all you have to say?”
“You have to pretend you don’t know these things.”
“Well done, Chris. Excellent speech.”
“What am I supposed to do? He knows more than we do,” Chris says with a shrug.
“Definitely more than you,” my son adds, addressing me.
“You don’t know that.”
“Come on, Dad. You’re a dork.”
At least he didn’t say ‘loser’ this time.
“You don’t know how to approach, and then you are always busy and distracted.”
Unfortunately, that’s true.
“I’ve seen plenty of disasters from you over the years,” he goes on.
“He was just unlucky,” Casey tries to help.
“This is also because you always pick the wrong guys,” Evan says.
“And you know who’s right for me, do you?”
Evan’s eyes go strangely serious, but he doesn’t reply. I know exactly what he is thinking; I can see it written all over his face.
“Tomorrow, we are all going to the game,” Casey says. “And we’ll cheer on the team,” she winks at me.
“And you’ll be cheering for your Captain,” Chris adds.
I force a smile, still feeling my son’s eyes on me.
Even he knows that Jamie will never be my Captain.