Page 39 of The Swap Masquerade

“What has gotten into you, Elliott?” Mom laughed, shaking her head at me.

I smiled proudly. “Like you said earlier, I’m in a good mood. Besides, you asked me to get Trey. Here he is.” He squealed as my hand landed on his butt with a firm smack.

“You shouldn’t be carrying your brother around like that. This is a very important time for you. You can’t afford an injury, especially to your pitching arm,” Dad scolded.

It felt as if he’d thrown a bucket of ice water on me and just like that, my good mood evaporated. Everyone was quiet as I set Trey back down on his feet. His expression was somber as he pretended to straighten his clothes. I looked at my dad. “Sorry. I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

“Well, keep it in mind from now on. You have to keep yourself in top shape. Especially with scouts coming around. Oh, that reminds me, I’ve reached out to a few people and I think I may be able to get Paul Fredricks to come and watch you. He’s one of the scouts for the Tucson Padres….”

I stood there, watching my dad. I could tell he was still talking because I could see his lips moving, but it all sounded like white noise to me, a low buzzing inside my ears that drowned out everything else except the images floating around my brain, playing out like scenes from a movie. Dad playing ball with me in the back yard, my parents cheering as I swung a bat and connected with a ball for the first time, the proud look in my father’s eyes when the coach bragged about my pitching skills. Staying up late to finish homework because my game had gone into overtime, feigning interest as my buddies all talked about which girls were the prettiest, prom night when I stayed home and watched movies rather than having to find a girl to go with, the disappointment in my father’s eyes when I announced I was going to Bradbury. A sexy professor, a man behind a mask, the way the sunlight landed on Gavin’s face first thing in the morning.

“It’s the last game, so you’ll have to be on top—”

“Stop!”

It took a second to realize that the person who had shouted was me. Everyone looked at me like they had no idea what was going on, and quite honestly, neither did I. I’d thought I had more time. I had hoped I could hold off on having this conversation until after graduation, but as I stood there, I realized it was now or never because my father had already been busy carving out a plan for the rest of my life. He literally had the next twenty years mapped out for me, which was horrifying enough. What truly terrified me was it had all been done with absolutely zero input from me.

“The Road Not Taken,” by Robert Frost had always been a favorite poem of mine and that was exactly what this moment felt like. I could choose to stay on the same path I’d been on, or I could choose differently, forging my own path. I could keep playing baseball or I could follow my dreams of working as an architect, traveling, and having a family of my own someday. No one could accurately predict the future, but one thing was for certain, if my future didn’t include at least a chance at being with Gavin, then I didn’t want it.

“Dad, stop. Just stop, please.”

“What do you mean stop?” Dad’s face showed his confusion.

“I mean, I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep living this lie. It’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to me either.”

“What are you talking about? What’s he talking about?” He turned to my mother whose eyes darted back and forth nervously between the two of us.

“She doesn’t know. Only two people know, but neither of them are here.”

Dad’s hands landed on his hips as he studied me. “Okay. What’s this about? Did you get into some sort of trouble? Your coach didn’t mention anything on the phone.”

“That’s because this has nothing to do with baseball. Not everything in life has to do with baseball. Jesus, Dad, don’t you get it?” Frustration bled into my voice, making it sharper than I’d intended. I huffed out a breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to raise my voice. I’m just so tired of this.”

“What are you tired of? Maybe you can explain it to us so we can understand,” Mom suggested softly.

I ran my hands through my hair, trying to figure out where to start. I hadn’t been expecting to do this today and I felt woefully unprepared. Looking at my father, I knew it would be best to start with the truth. “Dad, I love you. You’re an amazing father. I can’t remember a time in my life when you weren’t there, involved in everything I did.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of a problem to me,” Dad countered.

“It wasn’t. Until it was. Do you remember when I was little and the two of us would go out back and toss a ball? Man, I idolized you. You were my hero, this larger-than-life man who raced into burning buildings to save people. You used to take me and my friends fishing and camping on the weekends. We had so much fun, and my friends were all jealous because they wished their dads could be half as cool as you. I was always so proud. We loved watching baseball together too. You took me to my very first game. Do you remember that? We ate hot dogs until I thought I was going to throw up. The Indians won that game.” I smiled at the memories.

“You always made everything so much fun, and I loved getting to hang out with you. You guys signed me up for little league and I was excited because I thought it was another fun thing we’d get to do together. And it was fun, for a while. But as I got older, things started to change. We stopped going camping and fishing because I had to meet with the pitching coach instead. We quit tossing balls out in the yard because you told me I needed to save my arm for games. Baseball went from being something we enjoyed together to being a job of mine.”

Dad opened his mouth to say something, but Mom put her hand on his arm. “Let him finish.”

“I know you did all of those things for me, because you love me, and you wanted to give me the world. And I know a lot of parents dream of their kids going pro one day, but, Dad, you never asked me what I wanted. Baseball became your dream, but it never really was mine. I would have been happy simply tossing the ball with my dad all those years.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” Dad’s voice sounded hoarse.

“I tried, in my own way. Like when I chose Bradbury instead of going to a D1 college. I was tired of all the pressure and was hoping that playing for a smaller school would make some of that go away. But I also learned then how much my choices could disappoint you. I’ve seen it in your face every day since then, it’s in the way you talk to me and the things you say. You have become so consumed with this notion that I’m going to have a career in baseball, it’s like you couldn’t even see everything else that was in front of you. Like Trey.” I looked over at my kid brother whose eyes widened at the mention of his name.

“Trey is amazing. He’s creative and talented, and he’s way smarter than I’ve ever been. The fact that he doesn’t play baseball doesn’t make him any less interesting. Actually, it probably makes him more so. All you have to do is read one of the stories he’s written to know that.” Trey smiled shyly and looked down at his toes.

I looked back at my father who was staring out the window. “I don’t want to play baseball anymore, Dad. I have a lot of dreams of my own. Dreams like becoming an architect. I’d like to travel to different countries and experience other cultures. And eventually, I’d like to settle down, hopefully with kids and…a husband.” There was a pregnant pause, the sentence hanging in the air, long overdue but with no clear answer as to the response it might receive. Still, I felt better, stronger for having finally spoken it aloud, although it was probably hard to tell with the way my whole body was shaking.

I watched Dad, waiting for his reaction. He clenched his jaw so tightly; I was afraid he might crack a tooth. After a few seconds, he turned and left the room. I stared after him, devastation and sorrow filling all the spaces inside me that had once held onto the hope that somehow, he might understand.

Mom walked over and wrapped her arms around me, rubbing circles over my back and whispering soothing words in my ear. “Nothing you’ve said changes the way I feel about you. You know that, right? I have loved you from the second I found out I was pregnant with you, and I will love you until the day I die. You’re my precious boy whether you’re gay, straight, or an alien from outer space.”

---