Page 57 of Cleats and Pumps

Of course, I knew deep down I was spoiling for a fight. Luckily, none of the nursing staff so much as looked my way as I walked down the hall and toward my grandma’s room, trailing the aroma of a good greasy burger. She smiled and winked at me when I came in, which clearly indicated she knew who I was.

“Hey, Grandma, I brought dinner,” I said and handed her the fast food bag.

“Thank you, Cleo,” she said, calling me my grandpa’s name. Oh well, okay, so she didn’t recognize me, but at least she knew I was family.

I plopped down next to her and began telling her my story. She ate while I spoke, and when I was done, I wiped at my tears.

“Tommy, sweetheart, if that boy loves you, then he’ll forgive you… Now hand me another one of those ketchup packets.”

I laughed, cried, and did as she asked. She’dheardme and given me advice, despite the dementia. I knew she’d forget againbut at least for just a moment she was present. For some reason, that was all I needed.

Maybe she was right. Maybe, if he did love me like he said he did when we were together last time, he’d be able to forgive me. It was almost too much to hope for, but if my grandma, who just a little while ago thought I was her husband, now gave me advice that made sense… then it’s possible that Amos could forgive me enough to give us a chance.

42

Amos

“I’mtakingthegig…”I said when Erissa called the next day.

“Amos, think first… you’ve got such an amazing career. You have so many years left to be a professional.”

“No, I had several years left. Now, I have a reputation as a drag queen, I’ve been released from my contract because of that, and there’s a very good probability a book that tells all will be coming out too.”

Erissa groaned quietly. “I just hate this has happened to you…”

“And I think it all might just be the best thing that could’ve happened.”

“Huh?” she asked, sounding surprised.

“Erissa, I’m so tired of hiding who I am. I’ve done that for so long it feels like I’m wearing clothes that no longer fit. I feel like I might suffocate almost all the time. Besides, how many of my teammates do you think have reached out to me? None. Not even one, Erissa, and I’ve been playing with these guys for almost half a decade. I don’t belong there, and I think Tommy’s book being stolen is the universe telling me that… well,that,and then actually landing a fucking Broadway show! I’m going to be on fucking Broadway, Erissa… Fuck…ing Broad…way!” I stretched the words out as long as I could.

Erissa chuckled. “It’s too much to even think about. But, I’m a sports manager, not an agent for musicals. If you are really sure, I’ll reach out to some of my New York contacts. I know a couple agents, and one is really great… if he’ll take you on. Well… just promise me this, okay?”

“Okay,” I said under my breath.

“You don’t do this just because it looks too hard to make it in football. LGBTQIA people are pulling ahead. The league will get a black eye over this… either way. Your team is full of jackasses, and I have no doubt they’re going to be in trouble when this all comes down. Besides, I talked to another team who wants you… I mean, they’re taking advantage of your situation and will negotiate your fee way down but… they are legit.”

“This is what I want, Erissa. I think it might’ve been what I’ve always wanted. I also want my team to pay out their ass for this. If we can make it hurt financially, they’ll think twice before going after another gay player, but for me… this is the right choice.”

She sighed deeply into the phone, and I knew she was finally coming to terms with what was happening. “Okay, I’ll get in touch with my friend in New York, see if he’ll take you on… then I’ll let you know. Either way, you’ll owe me big time.”

“Already do, Erissa, but you know… I can save you tickets.”

“You better,” she said chuckling before she hung up. Now I felt my own smile brighten my face. I was about to chase down one of the best moments of my life. And fucking God help me, I was about to be a star on fucking Broadway!

43

Tommy

Aweekwentbywithno news about Elliott, and no word from Amos. Then another week and another passed. Yeah, Amos totally hated me. I couldn’t blame him. I really couldn’t. It broke my heart and made me want to crawl into a hole and hide forever, but what could I do?

I’d gotten my own attorneys who were communicating with my former employer. They swore up and down that they hadn’t put Elliott onto my trail. That was bullshit, and I knew it. I also knew if it came down to the end of the line, and we went to court, all the dirt would come out.

Court… yeah, I knew this would seriously damage my career, but since the police hadn’t apprehended Elliott, I just figured it was a matter of time before my book was leaked to some unscrupulous piece of shit company. I’d never get another job after that happened anyway. At least, not at a legitimate company. So, I decided since my ex-boss was the problem, they should at least pay for what they’d done. If I was lucky, it’d be enough money to set aside and live off until I figured out what was next for me.

I’d met the owner of a new online magazine that dealt with LGBTQIA sports fans. They were small and couldn’t afford to pay well, but I’d been interested in working with them freelance since I’d first met them. I’d been writing various articles and sending them their way, mostly to keep my writing skills sharp. Also, I knew when the book came out, it was unlikely to create much of a stink by writing for these guys than I would if I submitted something to a larger magazine.

When I got the call from an Indi Freemont, I didn’t answer, instead letting my phone go to voicemail. I don’t usually let my phone go to voicemail, because as a journalist, I never wanted to miss an opportunity to get a scoop. However, since the book could come to light any moment now, I didn’t want to be confronted by some other journalist who was trying to get the scoop on me.

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