My cheeks flush. One night in college, shortly before Wren and Derrick got together, I went home to Oregon for spring break and came home absolutely hammered after a night out with some old high school buddies. I didn’t even make it all the way in the house before I drunkenly confessed my pathetic lack of a dating life to my parents. I told them how I didn’t want anybody but Wren and how I knew I wasn’t gay either. It felt like my body's way of saying Wren was the only girl for me, and I would likely be alone forever and die a virgin. My dad still laughs about it to this day. In his words, “I almost taped you and sent it off to Hollywood, son. The level of dramatics was fit for a movie screen.”
Obviously I know now that it’s just my sexuality, but I still want Wren more than anything.
Needless to say, I wouldn’t go out as often when I’d visit home and stopped drinking so much when I did go out to avoid any more inebriated confessions.
“Mom, I’m well aware of her current relationship status and the details of what brought her home. Trust me when I say I’m trying to woo her while also doing whatever I can to make sure she doesn’t feel pressured or uncomfortable. Wren is….” Sighing, I run my fingers over the Starling tattooed on my left hand and glance up at my parents across the kitchen table. “She’s everything to me. My dream girl in every sense of the word. I think I’m holding back because I just don’t know what I’ll do if she doesn’t feel the same.”
I drop my head into my palms and groan. I don’t want to see the pity on their faces. A heavy hand on my back startles me out of my crisis and my shoulders drop slightly when I raise my head to meet my dad’s understanding gaze.
He looks almost exactly the same as he did when I was a kid other than the light smattering of gray at his temples. I hope the Gray genetics bless me so I look as good as he does when I’m his age. The man is 49 years old and still gets confused for my older brother on a pretty regular basis. It drives my mom up a wall and boosts his ego every single time.
“Rhodes, that girl is crazy about you. We could see it back then, and we see it now. But it’s likely buried under years of feelings for someone else and preconceived notions about how she should be handling her divorce. I don’t really see why jumping into a relationship would hurt either of you in the long run, but we will always support the both of you no matter what.”
Having their support lifts a weight off my shoulders I didn’t realize I’d been carrying, and I know I’m lucky to have such incredible parents.
“Plus,” I glance over to see my mom sporting a too-wide grin. “The sooner you legally make Wren my daughter, the sooner we get beautiful grandbabies.”
I choke on my spit and cough violently while my dad beats my back. Even the sound of me gasping doesn’t cover their laughter. When I finally get enough oxygen to my brain to function, I turn a dirty glare their way just as my dad slides back onto the stool next to Mom.
“What if we don’t want kids?”
Mom raises her eyebrow and quickly looks at my dad before she turns to me with a shrug, that grin still wide and wild on her face. “Then we’ll get adorable grand-dogs. Seems like a win-win either way.”
They continue to plan out our entire future, but the incessant buzz in my ears drowns out their words. My mom doesn’t know it, but she just gave me one more idea of how to convince Wren to stay.
“Now, you know this breed takes work, right? I won’t give him to you if you aren’t prepared to put in the effort to train him proper-like and keep up on his grooming.”
I nod vigorously. I want the man holding my new “child” hostage to know I’ll take his care very seriously. After a lengthy phone call and a check-in text to make sure Wren was still in meetings until later this afternoon, I left my parents’ place and drove an hour to Archie’s friend’s farm.
“I know exactly how much work Newfoundland’s take, sir. I’ve loved this breed since I was a kid and have done a ton of research over the years in the hope that I’d be able to own one someday.” I might be laying it on a little thick, but the dog is cute and fluffy and staring at me with small eyes that are a much lighter shade of blue than my girl’s deep-ocean color.
Mr. Hendrick’s deep-set gaze appraises me critically, causing me to subconsciously straighten my spine. At 70 years old and nearly a foot shorter than me, Walter Hendrick is still a scary son of a bitch. I’d never say it to his face, but the man has made me nervous ever since I met him five years ago when he came to one of my college games with Dad and Archie. Back then, he had thick brown hair and a larger-than-life personality, but now his hair is mostly gray, and though his presence is still intimidating, it’s more subdued.
Back in the day, Walter was a guest lecturer on animal husbandry and Archie took his class as a filler-elective in college. Mr. Hendrick said Archie was a major pain in his ass from day one but eventually grew on him. They stayed in touch over the years, and he’s been kind of a pseudo-grandfather to Wren since she was born. I’m honored he was willing to give me the time of day, let alone one of his precious pups.
He nods but still looks suspicious as he holds my baby and strokes his fur gently. “You play ball professionally, don’t ya?”
I nod, keeping my mouth shut.
“Well then, what makes you think you have time for a dog at all? Let alone one that needs so much time and attention?”
His question doesn’t faze me since I’ve been thinking about this for years. Now that Wren is here, I’m finally ready to take the plunge. And if it helps convince her to stay, that’s just an added bonus. “I’m a very active person even during the off-season, and I already have full permission from my coach and the training facility to bring him with me to practice. And on the days that I can’t, my parents are thrilled to have a grandchild around—even if he’s not human.” I quirk my lips.
Walter never had any children, instead choosing to become a licensed breeder alongside his late wife, Elizabeth. He’s slowed down significantly since cancer took her three years ago, so I was lucky he had any pups at all.
My comment gets a small smile out of him and fucking finally, he hands me my baby. “Mhmm, I see. And this sudden need for a pup has nothing to do with the pretty little thing I heard is back in town?”
I freeze mid-snuggle and send a wide-eyed, panicked look at the old man with my face still buried in the puppy’s fur.
He smirks at me and scratches his sun-wrinkled fingers under the pup’s jaw, his eyes mist over as a faraway look crosses his face. “My Lizzie didn’t want a thing to do with farm life until the day she came out here from the city to visit and saw the brand-new litter of pups my first dog had whelped the week before. To this day I don’t think she would have agreed to marry me without the dogs.”
I met Mrs. Hendrick a few times before she passed after I moved out here to play for Charleston, and she was a kind soul. The woman never met a person or animal she didn’t like and raising dogs was her passion. I prayed that someday Wren and I would have the love she and Walter shared, and now with that dream closer than ever, I desperately hope I don’t fuck it up.
With a slight shake of his head, his eyes clear and he holds out a hand for me to shake. “You’re a good man, Rhodes. I couldn’t pick a better home for my last pup.”
My mouth parts in shock. “Of the season, you mean?”
He smiles sadly. “Ever. I’m too old to handle them by myself anymore, and it just isn’t the same without Lizzie by my side. I’ve been doing this for damn near forty years, and as much as I love it, I’m ready. Your dad callin’ me today felt like a sign and the look in your eyes just now reminded me of how I looked at Lizzie all those years ago.” He sighs. “Do whatever you have to do to make it work, son. There’s no greater feeling than spendin’ your life with your best friend, and that sweet girl of yours deserves nothing but the best.”