Changes Going On, page 9
Will frowned at the crowd and reached over the gate to tap the “Beware of Dogs” sign Max had installed. “If you climb the fence and trespass, and Dingo sees you, stand real still. He won’t hurt you if you stand still.” Dingo wouldn’t hurt them if they ran in circles and danced the tango, but there was no need to say so.
Ignoring a flood of questions, he turned Congo up the drive in the dusty wake of the car. Congo still had some run in him, but Will insisted on a nice loose-rein walk to cool the gelding down and give himself time to think. The sweat on Congo’s neck had dried by the time they reached the house, but the thinking hadn’t gone anywhere useful.
Scott’s mom stood by her car, looking around the yard. Other than a couple of chickens foraging in their pen by the barn, the place was quiet with everyone off working. Will dismounted and led Congo over her way.
“Welcome to the Tri-Cross Ranch, ma’am.”
She turned to face him. “Thank you, Will. Please do call me Donna.”
“Would you like to come inside? Sit down and have something to drink?” He pushed the offer past some wall of stupid reluctance. I don’t want her in our home right now. That was selfish as hell, and Annmarie would be turning in her grave. “Can I get your bag?” he added, to make up for it.
“It’s in the back seat. Yes, that would be nice. Is Scott around?”
“Did you let him know you’d arrived?”
She flushed and looked over at the hens as if they were fascinating. “Not yet. It was a spur of the moment trip. He’s not expecting me.”
At least Scott didn’t “forget” to tell us she was coming. That was something. “He went into town to help out a friend.”
“A friend?”
“Yep.” He didn’t figure either Casey or Rusty would want their business mentioned to strangers. “I’ll call him, or you can?”
“Perhaps you should do it. Does he know about those people at the gate?” She frowned. “I thought that was all over with.”
“I guess not yet. They showed up a few hours ago.” He pulled out his phone.
~Hey, your mother is here. Did you know she was coming?
Four texts chimed back in a row.
~My mother!
~No
~Why?
~Fuck
He bit his lip, seeing that word. Might be apt, in a way. Last night’s fuck had been rough and sweet and satisfying and exhausting, settling them in their home and their bed. He couldn’t imagine doing that tonight, if Mrs. Edison was staying, and he’d been looking forward to it. Needed it, truth be told. He still felt like a crab shucked out of its shell, struggling to get back inside. ~I don’t know why. Are you coming home?
~Yes, of course
~There’s a crowd of paps at the gate
~Fuck. Did they bother her?
~Not much. As far as he could tell. ~Are you still with Rusty? He might not want to get mixed up in that circus
~Fuckfuckfuck
~You wish. Will’s heart felt lighter, imagining Scott getting flustered on the other end of the phone. At least they were in this mess together.
~Can you come get me?
He was about to type “yes” but paused. He couldn’t ask Scott’s mom to wait out in her car in the sun, which meant he’d have to let her into the house. And then leave her there alone in their private space.
Not that there was anything wrong with that. They hadn’t left the house a pigsty, and they had no secrets, really. Just stuff that was maybe not mom-friendly.
Of course, she’d have to go snooping to find it. The lube in the kitchen drawer and the bathroom and the end table, or the giant dildo that Scott gave Case as a joke, that he kept trying to work up to, in the bedside drawer…
He’d waited long enough that Scott typed, ~Problem?
It really shouldn’t be. Probably real moms didn’t do that stuff, sneaking into your personal spaces and using everything they found to ambush you. Finding something you scrimped and saved and bought, waving it at you and calling you a thief or a liar or dirty, ugly— Annmarie would never have gone into his trailer and looked through his things. This was Scott’s mom…
Scott sent ~I’ll get Rusty to drop me off behind the trees and walk up the hill.
He couldn’t deny a sigh of relief. ~Text me when you get to the drive. I can come pick you up
~I think I can manage a ten-minute walk. Are you okay?
~Fine. He put the phone away and turned to Scott’s mom. “He’ll be home in half an hour. Let me take care of my horse, and I’ll get you that drink.”
He used up five minutes untacking Congo and turning him out into the field. Then spent ten minutes bringing in Donna’s bag, showing her the downstairs bathroom that they didn’t use enough to have embarrassing things in it, texting Joe that he was in charge of the hands for the afternoon— again— and getting her set up on the couch with a glass of iced tea. The chores settled Will. Some. He lowered himself on the edge of his favorite armchair with a can of Coke and took sip after sip so he wouldn’t have to open the conversation.
“This is a nice place,” Donna said eventually. “Homey. Is it old?”
“Yep.” That sounded awful curt, right? He made himself add, “Built around 1910. The first home place burned down, and they replaced it with this one.”
“You inherited it this winter, didn’t you? I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Yes. Thank you.” He took a long pull at his Coke and gritted his teeth against a burp. You’re so smooth, William. “How was your flight?”
“Crowded. Not too bad, though. These days, any flight that doesn’t get canceled and leaves close to on time has to be considered a win.”
“I guess. I don’t fly much.”
“Even with Scott out of town all the time?”
Will drained his pop. “I’m here when he comes home.” Casey had occasionally flown out to see Scott when he wasn’t able to get back for a long stretch, but Will hadn’t usually had the money or the time.
Donna glanced toward the door. “Is Casey around?”
“Not right now.” Maybe she didn’t know about Casey’s new job? He’d let Scott bring it up.
“Oh.” She fidgeted, wiping condensation off the side of her glass with one finger. “So, the stories I saw online said you’re thirty-seven? And lived here all your life?”
“You shouldn’t read the online stuff, ma’am. Donna,” he corrected before she could, because dammit, he was an adult and should react like it. “There’s a lot of crap in there. But yes, that part’s true.”
“Scott’s twenty-four.”
“I know.” Was that just conversation? Or was she worried about the age gap, like the comments he’d spotted on Scott’s Twitter, where one guy called Will a Marlboro Man and another sniped back “Yeah, after the lung cancer.” He knew his working life had given him permanent lines at the corners of his eyes and an outdoorsman’s weathered skin. Scott didn’t seem to care. But maybe his mother did. “Casey’s thirty-three.”
“He doesn’t look that old.”
Ouch. He took another sip from his empty Coke and let that statement just lay there.
She added, “I’m forty-six.”
“You don’t look it either. Ma’am.” This time he delivered the courtesy deliberately, younger to elder, even if it did feel weird that she was closer to his age than Scott was.
“Thank you.” She ran a hand over her hair, the same dark shade as Scott’s. Maybe she dyed it.
He could almost feel Annmarie’s dishcloth hit the back of his head. Sorry! “Can I get you more iced tea?”
“No, thank you.” She set her glass down and leaned toward him. “A mother wants what’s best for her child. You understand that?”
Some mothers do. She probably meant it, though. “Sure. I think Scott’s doin’ pretty well.”
“He is, but— this was all such a surprise. Not him and Casey, so much, but you. You three. And coming out in the open like that. I don’t know what to think.”
“I think it took lots of guts on Scott’s part. I’m glad we’re out. Even when it means fools with cameras wandering around my— our ranch.” He winced at the slip, hoping she wouldn’t latch on to it.
“His dad and I support him. Of course we do. But I’m worried. It’s been a week, and they’re still following him, taking pictures and saying awful things about him. There’s a fan petition to demand the Rafters get rid of him.”
“There’s plenty of fools online. There’s probably a petition to make him President too.”
Her expression lightened for a second, but she said, “Some people say he’s gone and made it harder for other gay players to come out, instead of easier. It’s not fair.”
Most of us learn life’s not fair well before forty-six. He tried to be charitable; she was just worried. “There was never going to be a right way to do this. Now Scott’s out and honest, and no one can say he’s lying or hiding. That has to be best.”
“I suppose so.”
The front door banged open, and Will hid a sigh of relief. A double thump meant Scott had shed his shoes in the entry, and then he swung around the door frame, skidding on the hardwood in his socks. Just having Scott there, big and solid and throwing him a smile, made Will’s breath come easier. “You made good time.”
“Nita saw me walking and gave me a ride. Hey, Mom.” Scott came over and bent to hug her as she stood. Will pushed to his feet too, watching them embrace. Scott kept an arm around her. “It’s good to see you! But what’re you doing here? Is Dad all right?”
“He’s fine. We saw an ad for a bargain fare to Kansas City, and everyone’s been asking questions we can’t answer, and I realized I wanted to get to know Casey better. And Will too, of course. So here I am.”
“Dad’s okay on his own?”
“Sure. He’s not cleared to fly yet, or he’d have come with me, but he sends his best.”
“How long can you stay?”
“My ticket’s booked for five days,” she said. “If that’s all right?”
“Of course, Mom.” Scott hugged her again, and Will’s worry faded some with how happy Scott looked. “We have plenty of room.”
“I could get a hotel,” she offered, but not like she wanted to.
Will pulled on his big-boy pants. “No way, Donna. That doesn’t make sense. It’d cost you, and you’d have to wade through that crowd of idiots at the gate. Scott’s right. We have extra rooms. You’re welcome to stay.”
“Thank you.”
“Sorry about the reporters,” Scott said.
She patted his arm. “That’s not your fault. I hope they find someone else to chase after, though. Is Casey coming home soon?”
Scott shrugged. “He’s just upped his workload, so who knows? He’s terrible about keeping track of time when he’s investigating a suspicious death.”
She stared up at him. “But he’s not the sheriff anymore, is he? You said he retired.”
“Yeah, but he got hired on again.” Scott’s gaze cut to Will. “You didn’t tell her?”
“It didn’t come up.”
“Oh, I don’t like that,” Donna said. “You were so happy he was giving up that dangerous job.”
“I was, but this is best for Casey. Hockey’s not safe either, and he’d never hold me back from playing.”
She shook her head. “It’s not the same. And is he moving back into town, then? You said he had to live closer when he was sheriff.”
“He won’t be on call all the time, like he was,” Scott said. “He’s not moving out. It’s all good.”
“If you say so.” Donna put a hand on his arm. “Could you show me to my room, honey? I got up early to catch the flight and I could use a little lie-down.”
“Sure.” Scott turned to Will. “Which room?”
“Farthest on the end?” he suggested. Still not far enough for us to be loud. “Bed might need to be made up.”
“I can do it. Where’s Mom’s suitcase?”
“By the stairs.” Will gave in to his restlessness and added, “I really should get back to work. I’ve got a week of catchin’ up to do.”
“Don’t let me keep you, Will.” Donna slung her handbag over her shoulder. “I should’ve called first.”
“Family’re welcome any time.” He headed toward the door, surprised when Scott followed him.
Scott asked softly, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Just a long day already, with work and Rusty and the damned paps.”
“And Mom.”
“Yeah. Is Rusty okay? Did he talk to Casey?”
“I hope so. And yes. Oh, and Casey said don’t talk about Mike being murdered. I’ll tell you later.”
“Fair enough.” He stepped into his boots, then turned to Scott. Through the living room doorway, he could see Donna watching them. He hesitated, then reached for Scott’s shoulder. Let her see. He hauled Scott in for a dry, fast kiss. “Still good to have you home. I’ll be back for dinner.”
“I’ll even cook, if Mom doesn’t insist on doing it.”
“She’s a guest. She doesn’t need to cook.”
“She’s a mom and she knows I’m crap at it. She’ll probably try.”
Is that a good thing? Cooking was friendly, and yeah, Scott’s best meal was heating pizza. Or was it a bad idea because it put her deeper into their space? He was too mixed up to decide. Over Scott’s shoulder, he saw her gaze still on them. He kissed Scott again, for good measure. “I didn’t have time to hide anything in the bathroom, or the kitchen, or… anywhere. Make a pass, before you let her in places?”
It was some consolation to see Scott’s eyes widen with the same revelation he’d had. “Hell, yeah. Good thought.”
“Later, hockey-boy.” He strode out into the warm June sunshine which didn’t stop a shiver down his back, feeling Donna’s stare following him out.
***
Scott turned to his mother— who was gazing after Will with an odd expression— and cleared his throat.
She jolted visibly, then smiled at him. “It’s good to see you.”
“You too. Why didn’t you let me know you were on the way? We could’ve had a room ready for you.”
A hint of color rose on her cheekbones. “It really was last minute. And I wasn’t sure what you’d say.”
“What I’d say?” That made no sense. “I’d say ‘What flight are you on?’ and ‘Do you need a lift from the airport?’”
“Well, I’m here now. And I’ll finally get to know Casey properly. You’ve talked about him so much, I can’t wait.”
“I can’t promise when he’ll be back, but yeah, I hope you’ll like each other.” They probably would, but he actually thought Will would be more Mom’s kind of guy, with his quiet warmth. Maybe this could be a chance to give Will a bit more family. “I’ll run your bag upstairs. Do you want to see more of the ranch? I know you like horses.”
“I really want to stretch out for a bit.”
“Sure thing,” He led the way up the stairs and down the hall to the end door. The room had been unused for a long time and there was a thin film of dust on the barren dresser. The bed was an old single, and the rug on the floor had probably been braided sometime in the fifties and walked on a few thousand times. He paused. “It’s not much.”
“I’m sure it’s fine.”
“Let me get fresh sheets.” He stripped the bed, relieved that at least the mattress and pillows looked clean underneath. He bundled up one sheet and used it to make a fast pass over the furniture, despite his mother’s scandalized, “Scott! Use a rag.”
“It’s going in the wash anyway. Sorry, this room’s a bit unused.” A sneeze tickled his nose but he fought it back. They had five smaller bedrooms in the old house, besides the shared master suite. They each used one as their own space, and the fourth was full of his weights and workout gear. He could put her up in his own bedroom, but he had no idea what she might find tucked away. Besides, it was right next door to their big bed. Just no. “Back in a second.”
He had to dig through the linen closet to find single sheets, and detoured to add clean towels to the main bathroom and pull the lube out of the shampoo rack. And off the window ledge, crap. And there’s a bulb syringe in the drawer… He reminded himself he was a grown man, and if his mom saw something that made her uncomfortable, that was her problem. It wasn’t like she never had sex— ack, no, not going there.
He did a quick sweep, dumped most of the personal stuff on the floor of the master closet, and brought the sheets back to the room.
Mom stood at the window staring out. He put the sheets on the bed, and when she hadn’t turned, went to look out beside her. In the corral beside the big barn, Will was working one of the young horses under saddle. His hat had come off at some point, and the sun lit the blond of his hair and highlighted the stretch of cotton shirt across his lean shoulders. The filly cow-kicked, and Will moved with her effortlessly, settling her down.
“He’s a good rider,” Mom said.
“He’s amazing.”
“I still don’t get it.”
His stomach sank. “Get what?”
“Why you’d do this to yourself and Casey.” She didn’t turn away from the window. “Your dad says that you might survive coming out as gay—”
“Survive?”
“In your career, he means. He says everyone knew it was a matter of time before someone did. You could be proud of being first. But instead of standing up proud with Casey, you brought in Will, and it’s messy and people are making up ugly memes and he’s almost twice your age and your dad says the team had to pretend to back you up, but he bets they’re going to be looking for a way to get out of your contract and—”
“Mom! Stop.”
“You worked so hard. It was all you ever wanted. Remember the year you had practice at six in the morning? I was the only parent who never once had to push their kid to get out of bed. You loved it, and you almost won the Calder and now…”
“And now I have two men I’d give up the Calder for. Give up my career, if I had to.”
“You say that now, but if it happens, if they send you back down to the AHL or you can’t play, don’t you think you’ll start resenting Will? Dad says you could be this generation’s Bobby Hull, as good as anyone ever, and you could lose it all for that man.”
