Chapter 34
It had been a week since they arrived in Youngstown, and Caleb felt more exhausted than ever. His head felt like it weighed a million pounds, and the food he forced down tasted like lead.
The click clack of Jamie typing on his phone was starting to give him a headache. After another few deep breaths, Caleb couldn’t take it anymore.
“Who are you texting so much?”
Jamie looked up from his pancakes with wide, puppy-dog eyes. “Oh—sorry. Just Sally. And JB.”
Caleb narrowed his eyes and glanced at the phone still in Jamie’s hand. “You’re acting strange.”
“What? I am?” Jamie blinked innocently at him. They were sitting in a red booth at Lucy’s Diner, the little place down the street that somehow managed to whip out breakfast at lightning speed and brewed the strongest coffee in town.
“You never text this much.”
Jamie looked away sheepishly. “I… well, I’m just trying to keep everyone back home up to date.”
Caleb sighed. He didn’t need to take out his frustrations on Jamie. Softening his voice, he asked, “JB said the exhibit went well? Everything good?”
“Yeah. Clarence only fumbled a few things.” Jamie rolled his eyes. Caleb fiddled with the fork in his hands, pushing his eggs around the plate. He knew if he didn’t pretend to eat, Jamie would get on him.
“What about Sally and Ang? They okay?”
Something was off. Jamie had been getting shifty whenever Caleb asked about anyone from the Chelsea team. “J…”
“Halcombe cut you from camp,” Jamie blurted. His cheeks turned pink as his eyes dropped back to his pancakes. “They told me a few days ago, but I… I didn’t want to tell you.”
Instead of feeling angry, Caleb just felt the exhaustion in his chest get a little heavier. Figures. The one thing he’d actually been looking forward to this summer.
“Okay.”
Jamie’s head snapped up. “Okay? What do you mean?” Suddenly, he looked furious. “It is not okay. You are here supporting your sick father, and that wanker—”
“It’s okay, Jamie. You don’t need to get mad.”
“What?” Jamie planted both palms on the table and stared at him. “What do you mean? How are you not more upset?”
Caleb shrugged. His shoulder ached. “Nothing I can do about it. I’m missing the last two games of the season. I’m sure that’s his excuse for cutting me.”
“He’s a bigot.” Jamie’s voice rose enough to make an older couple nearby glance over. “He cut you and Sally, no one else, even though multiple other staff members have missed games. It’s clear as day, and everyone is furious.”
“Everyone?” Caleb frowned. How did Jamie know so much about this? “What do you mean?”
Jamie reached into his pocket and held up his phone. “The women are livid. They’re practically rioting.”
Caleb stared at the screen for a moment, realizing Jamie was in an entire group message of players. “Why the hell has no one spoken to me about this?”
The question made Jamie’s face fall, guilt replacing the anger.
“I told them I’d break the news to you, but…” He pulled his phone back and dropped his gaze. “I haven’t had the heart to do it. You… you’re not yourself, Caleb. I’m worried about you. And I was afraid this might send you deeper into—” He trailed off, but Caleb could fill in the blank.
Into depression.
The knot in Caleb’s chest tightened. Great. Now his own dark cloud of emotions was affecting Jamie too. Caleb wiped his mouth with his napkin and waved down the server.
“We’ll take the check.”
They didn’t say much after that. A few minutes later, they headed back to the car and drove to the hospital. Maybe today would be better. But if the past week was anything to go by, his father was still going to be a dick.
Within a few minutes of being in the hospital, Caleb was proven right.
“Where’s the guy from yesterday?” his father snapped. “He knew what he was doing.”
“Sir…,” the nurse said patiently. Before she could continue, Bri jumped in.
“Dad! Come on, she’s doing her job. I’m so sorry, Marie.” Bri was doing her best to manage the room while Mike stepped down the hall to grab drinks for everyone. Muttering under his breath, Derrick turned back to the television mounted in the corner of the room.
Caleb tried to muster up some sympathy for him. Surely the man was in a lot of pain. The medication probably made him feel like shit, too. But did he really have to be so fucking mean to the staff?
“Hi there,” the nurse said, turning toward Caleb and Jamie with a polite smile. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Marie, one of the nurses here on the oncology floor.”
“That’s my son, Caleb,” Derrick said without taking his eyes off the television. “And his gay boyfriend.”
The words landed like a slap to the face.
“Really, Dad?” Caleb stood, stepping in front of Jamie. “Did you really just say that?”
“What?” Derrick scowled and turned toward him. Marie shifted awkwardly. “I’ll… go get the doctor,” she said quietly before slipping out of the room.
His father’s eyes moved to Jamie. Caleb had to fight the instinct to block him from view entirely.
“I don’t see what I said that was so wrong,” Derrick snarled.
“It’s the way—”
“Dad, we talked about this…” Bri said quickly, stepping forward.
A hand settled on Caleb’s shoulder, Jamie trying to calm him, but Caleb shrugged it off. His head was pounding, and that heavy knot of exhaustion in his chest was tightening so rapidly it felt hard to breathe.
“His name is Jamie,” Caleb said sharply. “He’s my partner and the love of my life, and I will not let you disrespect—”
“I did no such thing,” Derrick interrupted defensively.
“Caleb, calm down—” Bri tried.
“Really, Bri?” He whirled on his sister, feeling sixteen again. Un-fucking-believable.
He came all this way, missed games that could advance his career, and was getting kicked out of a camp that could help him get into medical school.
All for some shitty, bigoted asshole.
“You know what—fuck this.” Caleb turned and stormed out of the room before he did something he’d regret, like punch a hole in the wall of his father’s hospital room.
Jamie swallowed so loudly it practically echoed in the hospital room. “Erm… do you need anything, Mr. Reed?”
The bed shifted as Caleb’s father turned his attention toward him. They were the only two in the room now after Caleb stormed out, Bri chasing after him. The absence of the two siblings was deafening. He wished at least Mike would return.
Now that he’d spent time in the hospital with Derrick, he could see the resemblance of father to son.
From pictures, Jamie always thought Caleb looked like his mum, but sitting here beside the hospital bed, he could see some of his father in him too.
When Caleb was upset, he made the exact same scowl directed at him right now.
“Derrick,” the man said sternly.
Jamie blinked. “Excuse me—?”
“Call me Derrick.”
Jamie reeled back.
“And no, I do not need anything.”
Derrick’s eyes stayed locked on him, and, despite the urge to squirm, Jamie kept his back straight and his chin high. The man was intimidating, even lying in a hospital bed with a white gown.
Jamie could definitely imagine him being the scary American football coach that Caleb described him as. He tightened his stomach, as if bracing himself for whatever unpleasant words Derrick might throw his way.
“I did not mean to upset Caleb,” Derrick grumbled, making Jamie’s defense die on his tongue.
Derrick’s eyebrows pulled together as he glanced at the door. “I hardly get to speak to him. Boy doesn’t answer my phone calls.”
“Oh, well…” Jamie rubbed the back of his damp neck. “It’s… it’s fine.”
He winced because it wasn’t really fine.
Derrick’s eyes stayed locked on the door. “I can’t say anything right without pissing my son off. It’s always been like that.”
“Well, I think he’s just a little on edge. Being here and all.”
A grunt. “Why?”
“Oh, well, he hates hospitals. Ever since, you know...” He paused, realizing Derrick might not know.
“Your bike accident,” Derrick finished, his eyes flicking up to meet Jamie’s. “Brianna told me. Sorry about that, by the way.”
“Uh… thanks.”
Derrick made a rough, hacking sound in the back of his throat, and Jamie looked down at his hands. His palms had gone clammy now, and he wasn’t entirely sure whether his presence here was helping or making things worse.
“My father wasn’t any good at talking either,” Derrick said suddenly. Jamie lifted his head. The older man was staring at the far wall, his expression pinched with thought. “But I reckon he didn’t try much. I tried.”
“You seem like a fine communicator to me, sir.”
His distant gaze slid back to Jamie. “You seem to be a good talker, James. Get that from your dad?”
“I was raised by my mum. Never knew my dad.” The answer earned him an indecipherable scowl.
“Raised by a woman,” Derrick muttered with a nod. “Explains why you’re a good talker.”
It was odd receiving what Jamie thought might be a compliment from a man who looked so thoroughly displeased. Derrick’s scowl deepened as he leaned his head back, gaze sliding to the ceiling.
“I hated my father,” he scoffed. “The things you think about when you’re dying, huh?”
Jamie forced himself to stay rooted to his chair, even though his whole body wanted to follow Caleb out the door. He had the sudden sense that this might be the only real conversation he would ever have with Derrick Reed.
He also had the strange feeling that, as uncomfortable as it was, this was the man’s way of trying to connect with Jamie.
“Why did you hate your father, sir?”
A ghost of a smirk appeared on the man’s chapped lips. “He didn’t approve of the woman I loved. Neither did her father. I asked for his blessin’ and he said no.” A low grunt. “We said fuck it and married anyway.”
Jamie blinked slowly. Surely the man understood the irony of that sentence. Wiping his damp hands on his jeans, Jamie squared his shoulders.
“I’m going to propose to Caleb.”
Derrick’s expression didn’t change, nor did he move from where he lay, staring at the ceiling.
“Are you askin’ for my blessing?”
A laugh burst out of Jamie before he could stop it, drawing Derrick’s sharp gaze. He pushed himself to his feet.
“I suppose if these were different circumstances, I might be. But no.” Jamie slipped his jacket on. “Caleb and I don’t need your blessing to get married. But, out of respect, I did want you to know.”
Derrick narrowed his eyes and pressed his tongue into his cheek. As Jamie turned toward the door, his hand froze on the door handle when he heard Derrick clear his throat.
“You want kids, James?” The soft rasp of his voice drifted across the room. Jamie squeezed the handle once.
“Excuse me, sir?”
“Do you and Caleb want to have children?” Jamie turned slowly. His eyes met Derrick’s stern hazel gaze.
“Yes, sir,” he said quietly. Derrick gave a firm nod before his eyes drifted closed again.
“Good,” he murmured. “Parents should be good at talking.”
Jamie slipped out into the hallway, feeling the nerves in his stomach morph into something a little lighter. It wasn’t a blessing by any means, but he didn’t get the idea that Derrick hated him, really. Was this progress? Closure?
It didn’t even really matter. Jamie was going to propose to Caleb and, if everything went according to plan, he’d have a ring on his finger by the end of the week.