Rooster: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (45 page)

“You might not be able to if Lucy had to support you”, Jack says.

“Hey!”

Jack may be joking but it pisses me off.

“At least I like my job too”, I say.

“I like my job”, Jack confesses.

“Yeah? Since when?”

“Since always.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“Lucy, not round the dinner table”, Mom says.

“I’m not the one acting like it.”

“You haven’t seen each other since your father’s funeral and you’re bickering again. This is supposed to be a family day.”

“I’m not changing that. I just-. Can we talk about something that’s not work for once?” I say.

There is a momentary silence around the table before Tracy does us all the favor of breaking it.

“How long have you two been together?”

Alex and I look at each other again before answering, my hand finding his this time underneath the table. I expected this. It is after all the first time Alex has met any of these people, I just miss Dad.

Dad and Alex would have got on well, despite the fact Alex has absolutely nothing to do with our beloved Patriots. No-one is saying it, but I get the impression that they’re looking down on Alex somehow, that what he does, despite being arguably the best player in the world in his position, isn’t a real job like a doctor or even a journalist is.

Oh, and what I mean by that is a proper investigative journalist for a large and well-respected newspaper, not a sports journalist like me. Jack’s always got a break because he’s the firstborn, economic graduate with the childhood sweetheart wife and the two gorgeous children, and Dana, although the baby of the family, always a social standing above me because of her high-powered city job (PA and I’m sure she’s screwing her boss) and has in Mark (although also probably screwing his secretary behind my sister’s back) a doctor and potential husband, at least in my mother’s eyes.

I’m the middle child, studious as fuck, but the one who isn’t utilizing her potential because I’ve decided to work forever for a shitty sports supplement, oh and have the temerity to hook up with a football jock.

I wish they’d understand. Dad always did, and Mom never understood his obsession with sports so much I often wondered what kept them together. I love my family, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get annoyed with their judgments too.

“Three months more or less”, I say, “almost four”, when Alex squeezes my leg insistently.

“That must be a record for you, sis.”

“A month would be a record for Lucy”, Dana adds.

“It’s a record for me too actually”, Alex butts in, while I’m still trying to prepare a retort. “I think three days was my record before that. I’ve never been much of the relationship type.”

I can see him itching to say it. Itching. Here it comes, that fucking-.

“That’s not what the Cincinnati Chest said”, Jack says, with as smug a face as I’ve seen on him.

Alex takes it in good humor but inside I’m fuming. He’s got way more patience than me. I know a big brother’s job is to make sure his little sister is with the right guy, but there is making someone feel uncomfortable and being down right rude, and this isn’t the time for either of them anyway.

“Grow up, Jack”, I say.

“The Cincinnati Chest said a lot of stuff that wasn’t true. Definitely not my best moment.”

“Who is the Cincinnati Chest”, Mark asks.

“So this is serious, right? You two love birds”, Jack continues, ignoring Mark’s question.

“Next question”, I say.

“Lucy, you’re going red”, Tracy says plainly.

Alex jumps in again. “We’ll let you know when the wedding is, but until then, we’re just taking each day as it comes.”

“And what will you do when you finish playing football?”

Where did that come from? Mom’s been quiet pretty much all the way through the meal and now that bombshell. I want the earth to swallow this table up and spit Alex and I back out in the upper west side. I hear the question as
what will you do when you finish playing that stupid game and need to do something worthwhile.
Either I’m being super paranoid or Mom really has got an issue to burn.

“Mom, that’s kind of a weird question.”

“No, it’s not, honey. I don’t know anything about football, but I do know it’s not something you can do for the rest of your life.”

“What, do you mean like being a doctor?” I say sarcastically.

“I haven’t really thought about it all that much actually”, Alex says. “Luckily I’m in quite a stable position financially so I guess I’m you’re asking me in that respect, I’m not sure it matters all that much. I’d like to continue to work in football at some level, perhaps go into coaching or management, other than that, I’ve always been interested in animals, so maybe something along those lines.”

“The Rhino.”

My eyes go to Jack, who hides his face behind a bottle of beer.

“I never liked that nickname”, Alex says.

I’m not entirely sure if Mom is satisfied by his response, but she leaves it for now whether she is or not. She has the kind of look in her eyes that suggests that she hasn’t quite finished with him yet, and if she’s anything like she always was she’ll be waiting for the moment to dig the knife in and twist it around.

Alex gives as good as he gets, however, and no matter how much she throws at him, he’ll be absolutely fine holding his own. I know he’s holding back out of a respect for my family at the moment, but as much as he doesn’t look capable, Alex knows his way around an argument and exactly how to win one.

Mom, Jack, even Mark won’t be able to rile him. I love that about Alex. He’s a cocky fucker, but he’s never conceited about his intelligence and he never puts someone down because he thinks he’s better than them at something. He wants to be the best, but he won’t resort to childish name calling to get there, and he certainly isn’t the kind of person to patronize someone because he thinks their profession is less valuable than his own.

Mom is a fucking secretary for Christ sake. Mark may be a doctor, but that doesn’t give him more importance than anyone else. Plus he’s a love rat and has cheated on my sister a number of times, even if she keeps taking him back. I’m also fairly convinced he’s an alcoholic and he may or may not be addicted to prescription drugs. Yes Alex is a bad boy extraordinaire, albeit reformed, but he has never done anything bad to anyone else, he’s always respected people, and he’s always made sure he’s looked after himself. Alex has a body to die for, and I expect Jack and Mark are jealous of that. Mom’s probably just bitter that I’m no longer alone.

We finish lunch, which is as bad as it always is, before each going our separate ways to relax before reconvening again at dinner time. I desperately want to whisk Alex up to my room and do the dirty with him, but with Charlie running around and the house full of people there is nowhere near enough privacy for him to be able to even just slip it up inside me.

We disappear up to my bedroom anyway, partly because I want to show him it, partly because I want to make out, and partly because I just want to get away from everyone else.

“So this is where the magic happens”, Alex says with a smile.

“No, this is not where the magic ever happened, unless you’re talking about Disney princes and far away dreams. In that sense, yes, in the other, absolutely not a single time.”

“I get tense when I go home too. That’s what families are like. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

We sit down on the bed together, the door closed but unable to be locked.

“I’m sorry”, I say.

“For what.”

“For my family being unwelcoming.”

Alex gives me his
I’m complicating things way more than is necessary
look. “I don’t feel unwelcomed”, he says.

“All that stuff about your job. Mom’s never gotten over the fact that I wanted to work in sport. She thinks I’ve never realized my potential.”

“She just wants you to be happy, like everyone else that cares about you.”

“I am happy but she won’t accept it.”

“She will.”

“She’ll have to.”

“Come here.”

Alex pulls me towards him and we embrace, tightly enough that I can feel his cock hardening. I shake my head when he whispers into my ear what he wants to do to me.

“Later”, I say.

“Now”, he insists.

As persuasive as those light blue gemstone eyes are, and as much as I want to more than anything else, I know we can’t. Not until Mom’s taken her sherry and sleeping pill, and Alex and I can bark obscenities at each other until we come together hard.

“Later”, I insist again, pulling myself away from him at the sound of a noise in the corridor outside the room.

This is the kind of family that doesn’t bother knocking before opening doors, the kind that doesn’t expect anything but decent conversation to be going on behind them. Jack and Tracy probably haven’t fucked since Gabe was born, Dana and Mark maybe just as long.

I hope when we do it later on they’ll be able to hear us, just to rub their noses in it.

Alex reluctantly lets me go, entertaining himself instead by looking in all of my drawers and picking up everything he can get his hands on.

“If she keeps your room for you just the way you left it, she must love you. My dad turned mine into an office as soon as I was gone. Luke’s is the same, though. That’s been the same for over fifteen years.”

“Mom loves me, there’s no doubt about that. She just has a hard time showing it, that’s all. Especially with my boyfriends”, I say.

“Boyfriends? I thought we were breaking a record.”

“Jack has a tendency to exaggerate.”

“Then we’ll just have to break a different one.”

“What’s that?”

Alex glides his hand over the surface of my desk, in a way that looks like he is testing it for sufficiency. “Make the magic finally happen.”

The rest of the day is a mix of awkward moments, uncomfortable situations, and way too much alcohol. Charlie is a pain in the ass, Gabe won’t stop crying, Mark gets drunk and falls asleep on the sofa and Mom gets weepy about Dad after one too many sherries. She wants to sing Christmas songs, but nobody wants to join in and finally, after throwing a massive tantrum, puts herself to bed.

It is absolute dysfunctional chaos, through which we manage to somehow all come together again to eat, and then make it through the evening just about, without tearing out each other’s eyeballs.

I am far too embarrassed for words, but Alex seems to not let it bother him. He either has the patience of an absolute saint, or Christmas in his house is even worse than here, which I find almost impossible to believe.

I think things are going to get out of hand when Jack insists on running a google search on Alex, only to find much less incriminating evidence than he had hoped. Conversation moves back to work again and on, through almost everything from film to American politics, the most recent mass shooting, immigration and terrorism - which I’m so glad Mom is asleep for - gun laws, love, marriage, and children. We talk about the playoff games, the Giants, the endlessly uncertain future in this country and we talk about Dad.

My family are a bunch of critical, sometimes hypocritical, assholes, but in that moment everyone comes together and it feels really special. We light candles and we remember him in a way that I haven’t done yet. We tell each other stories and we share our experiences of him each other might not have heard. It feels good and important and after a little cry, I feel closer to my family and much better for it.

Alex spends some of the time with us, some of it with Charlie teaching him how to throw, some of it just quietly on his own, perhaps thinking about Luke and what it was like all that time ago to lose him.

When we finally go to bed, at almost one o‘clock in the morning, I know then that I want it more than anything else in this world.

Alex doesn’t even pretend to stay in the guest room and with Mom already tucked up in bed in a bedroom far enough away from both of ours, as long as we get up before her in the morning, she’s never going to know.

It’s late and we are both a little drunk and both a little tired, but neither of us are going to let that spoil this opportunity. Alright, we’ve got to be quiet enough to not wake her up, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let him get away with anything less than what I’ve come to expect from him.

It’s not like Alex can control it anyway. It’s not like he can choose to be worse than he is, just so he doesn’t make me scream. If we’re going to do it, I want it to be memorable. I want it to be the fuck that bettered them all.

It feels kind of kinky doing it in my bedroom too. This place hasn’t changed since I was a teenager.

We creep into the room wrapped in each other, Alex walking me, my feet up on top of his so I’m at just the right height to rest my head in the place where his shoulder meets his neck. I love it when he carries me like this, because I feel completely protected, his massive frame enough to keep even the most potent of threats away from doing me harm.