Rooster: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (44 page)

“How was that?” Lucy asks me.

“You did good.”

“I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that stuff about the guns and New York.”

“Randall’s a liberal, don’t worry about it. I know he doesn’t look it but he definitely is. We’ll check over the article before it gets published anyway. Anything you don’t like we can just get rid of or ask them to go over again. I don’t think that stuff will make it in anyway.”

“It’s such a machine, the whole thing.”

“You should already know that Lucy, you work in it.”

“The kind of stuff I do is different. We don’t have bias or hidden agendas with the articles we publish.”

“That’s because you don’t have people printing the other side of the story you then have to go on and defend.”

“I don’t blame you for trying to escape it”, she says.

“Yeah, well, it’ll hunt you down in the end. There’s no hiding from free press, they can get you wherever you go.”

“I don’t know how you cope with it, all the fame and publicity and close up media scrutiny.”

“I don’t have a choice. Plus, I’ve got you to help me through it.”

I can feel the heat coming from her hand sinking lightly into my leg. It feels good, and reminds me that we haven’t done today what we are usually extremely conscious of making time for.

“I’m glad I have my uses”, she says.

“Oh, believe me, you definitely do. Girlfriend, lover, helmet polisher.”

“Hey!”

I get another smack on the arm for that.

“Someone’s got to do it. I can’t imagine Candy has the intellectual capacity.”

“Candy?” I ask.

“The Cincinnati Chest, I think is her performing name.”

“Oh, no, definitely not.”

“I’m glad that’s over.”

“Me too.”

There is a beat of silence in the car as the whole thing comes back to us.

“You know you can trust me, right?” I say.

Lucy folds herself into me, her head on my shoulder, her hand in my lap, inches away from my sleeping beast.

“I know. It’s just-. It takes me a while. The last time, the guy was lying to me from the start. I don’t want that to happen with us.”

“It never will, I promise.”

“I wonder what Candy’s doing now.”

“What she ought to be doing is preparing her legal defense.”

“It’s a good job you let your hair grow.”

I give her a quick look just to confirm she’s joking. “A class act all over. I imagine the whole thing is going to go down like twelve angry men”, I say.

“As long she doesn’t actually have that sex tape.”

“You’ve got nothing to worry about. Even if she did somehow make it, you know how boring I am in the bedroom. Nobody’s going to want to watch it.”

I wait for the narrowed eyes and can’t help laughing when I get them.

“We should make our own sex tape”, she says.

“No way, you might put me on youtube.”

“I wouldn’t if you paid the blackmail.”

“How much would I be worth?”

“I don’t know, I’ve got to see the quality of the material first.”

“Do you even have a camera?”

“Maybe we can make a sex audio tape. I guess that doesn’t have the same ring to it does it?”

“As long as we are having sex, I don’t mind what you do.”

“You are so trusting.”

“That’s because I know you’ve found the person you want to spend the rest of your life with, you just haven’t got round to admitting to yourself that you have as well.”

“Confident”, she says.

“No. That’s arrogance this time”, I say with a smile, the car up on the drive and the engine shut off.

“Shut the fuck up and take me inside, I’ve got some recording I want to do.”

When the article is finished the following week, it gets sent to us, Lucy checks it over for errors, okays it for publication with minimal changes and sends it back, thankfully without her views on America’s gun policy.

It has an immediately good reception which results in a barrage of calls for more interviews and TV appearances, all of which Lucy politely turns down. I don’t blame her and nor does anyone else. Instead, while I’m not at work and she’s not either, she concentrates on her new hobby - filming the pair of us fucking - and I pay her not an insubstantial amount to make sure she doesn’t put the videos on youtube.

It’s a kind of game we play. Lucy decides the value of the footage based on the strength of the orgasm and I give her the corresponding amount in cash, which she usually spends on new dresses to wear to our games.

It’s a win-win situation for both of us.

With Christmas just around the corner and the playoffs just after that, the press on our side for once, and things beginning to finally look up, I can’t help but feel unstoppable.

There are only a few things that would improve what I’ve got now, and I promise myself that sooner or later, I’m going to make sure I get them all.

Fourteen.

Lucy

This is going to be horrible. The first Christmas without Dad, in a house that is stacked to the brim with memories of him. Dad loved Christmas too, much more so than pretty much any of the rest of us, which makes it all that much worse.

I’ve barely adjusted to the idea that he’s not around anymore, and now I have to spend a whole weekend being reminded he’s never going to come back. I feel sad even before I’ve arrived, the shitty weather doing nothing to add to my already bleak mood. At least Alex is here. That’s another thing I’m worrying about as well. Introducing my world famous boyfriend to the rest of my family, who are dull, conservative and a little bit backward.

Mom is the kind of person who thinks poached eggs are liberal, and organic food is a con made up to make us spend more money. She’s middle class herself, but only in an economic sense. Dad was the hippy of the family really, much more so than any of his children and since his death, if anything, Mom has become even more traditional, uptight and conservative in her thinking.

Being in Boston for more than half her life hasn’t done anything at all to erase her midwest roots. We are almost certainly going to be sleeping in separate bedrooms.

Alex has a week off between games, which gives him enough time to spend some of it with his family, some of it with mine, and a few days chilling out at home. I wasn’t going to come at all, but Mom insisted and then Dana and Jack said they were going too, partners and kids included, so I couldn’t back out.

“You alright? You haven’t said anything for like an hour. It’s kind of unusual for you”, Alex asks me.

It’s true. I’ve spent quite a lot of this journey staring out of the window at the falling rain that looks every bit like it could turn into snow at any moment. Alex didn’t have to come at all, and it’s good of him to drive us both so I don’t have to shit myself flying.

I put my hand on his thigh and give it a squeeze. I’m still warm from that morning’s fuck, an emergency last minute hour long session just in case Mom somehow makes it impossible for us to fuck at home.

“I’m alright”, I say, even though I don’t feel it.

“Worried?”

“My family are a little bit strange.”

“Every family is a little bit strange, don’t worry about it.”

“I just hope they like you.”

“Do they know who I am?”

“Dad and I were the only football fans in the house.”

“Better then.”

“Mom will have read about you. She knows what you’re like.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. That you’re-. The kind of person you are”, I say.

“Lucy.”

“Sorry, that’s coming out all wrong. They are excited to meet you.”

“Just, I don’t know, relax. There’s nothing to worry about. I’m charming remember. Sophisticated. Highbrow.”

“Don’t forget sexy.”

“They’re going to love me.”

“I don’t know why I was even doubting it.”

The journey takes just over four hours because of heavy traffic coming through the city, during which time the rain ceases and then begins again just as we pull up to the house. It’s colder up here than in New York, and even though it’s only just past midday, the light is already threatening to fade as though there might be a loose connection, or someone just hasn’t turned up the power enough.

While we are taking suitcases out of the boot of the car, Mom opens the front door, Gabe in her arms and Charlie half-hiding behind her legs.

“Well get in here quickly it looks like it’s about to open up”, she says.

Inside we do the introductions, before Mom takes us upstairs to show us our separate bedrooms. I’m in the room I grew up in, while Alex has been given the guest room which has been reconverted temporarily from an office. I’m too tired to argue, and decide to address the problem secretly much later on.

Alex shows Jack and the boys the car while there is a momentary break in the rain before we all sit down in the living room and wait for Christmas to begin.

Mom’s done a few token decorations and put up an anemic looking tree in the corner. Jack is wearing a stupid jumper and Dana has bauble earrings but apart from that you wouldn’t know. Actually, even with those things, it’s kind of impossible to tell if Christmas is yet to come or whether it has already passed.

“Good journey?” Mom asks.

“Apart from the weather and a little bit of traffic coming through the city it was pretty smooth going”, Alex says.

“Can’t be anything but it in a car like that. Must be worth more than our house”, Jack says.

“Don’t even think about it”, Tracy warns her husband.

Small talk fills awkward gaps before Jack suggests an early Christmas drink which manages to get us through until lunch is served.

Mom is suspiciously quiet, and worryingly nice to Alex. I narrow my eyes at her but she pays no attention to me, happy instead to continue making sure her guest is comfortable.

Alex in response is polite to the extreme and careful he doesn’t put his foot in it, and it makes me laugh seeing him behaving in a way I never thought I’d ever see.

I have to keep pinching myself that here I am with Alex Vann Haden, sat around the dining table in the house I grew up in, and it’s not because he’s here with Dana, or he’s somehow dropped in on a charitable mission, he’s here because he’s with me.

My fucking boyfriend is Alex Vann Haden and I wish Dad were around so much he could see it. Nobody here really has the faintest idea who he is. Jack knows nothing about football, Tracy and Dana are the same, and Mark, Dana’s on again off again doctor boyfriend wouldn’t even be able to tell you who the Patriots were.

Here, Alex is even less of a nobody than I am, and I think he secretly likes it. Mark, unaware perhaps of anything about him, or maybe just being polite, even asks Alex what he does for  a living at one point during the meal. I can’t help but smile.

Tradition in this family over celebrations came from Dad, and because he’s not here anymore, even though Mom’s obviously tried to make an effort, things seem a little disjointed.

“How’s the job going, sis?” Jack asks.

I knew this was coming. Jack smiles at me with a suggestion he’s been waiting months to ask me it, because I know full well that he thinks he’s doing better than me.

Jack, Dana and I aren’t exactly the closest of siblings, but because Jack also works in journalism, there’s always been a rivalry.

“Good”, I answer vaguely, Alex’s hand finding mine underneath the table. “Ticking along.”

I hate talking about myself at the best of times, and around the kitchen table with my family, the worst of all.

“Are you still at that crappy magazine?” Jack says dismissively.

“If by c
rappy magazine
you mean Endzone, yes, and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

“You should be doing something worthwhile with your degree, Lucy”, Mom says.

Here we go.

“I shouldn’t think you’d need to work at all with Alex’s salary. Football players do quite well don’t they?” Mark adds.

Alex and I look at each other before he responds. “Just a little bit better than doctors, I think.”

I don’t like the way this is going.

“They are completely different professions though aren’t they?” Dana butts in, laughing nervously. “I don’t think you can compare the two.”

“Oh know, I wasn’t, I didn’t mean that. Football players get to work way fewer hours.”

“Yeah well that isn’t all that true”, I add, not wanting Alex to do himself a disservice for my family’s benefit. Mark has always been snobby about his own profession while Mom, Dana and Jack have always been critical about mine. Football players work just as hard as cancer doctors, even harder sometimes.

“I love what I do anyway”, Alex says, trying his best to diffuse what seems like a weirdly tense situation all of a sudden. “I’d still do it even if they didn’t pay me.”