Page 92 of Diamond Ring
Alex swallows around the tightness in his throat. “I thought about that. Being a foster parent. Or adopting. But I couldn’t and keep playing.”
A pause. Because it’s one thing to have been dating for a few months. Another to think about the future in a concrete way. He almost withdraws—almost tells Jakenever mind, even if that’s hanging between them like a glass sphere—when Jake kisses him.
“You’d be really good at that,” Jake says.
“I’d probably mess it up a bunch.”
“You’d be great and love every second.”
“I looked into it when things were getting serious with Eric. Turns out what happened to me isn’t that unusual.”
“Getting adopted by a relative?”
Alex shakes his head. “The court didn’t want to grant Sofia custody at first. There’s no guarantee the same thing won’t happen with me. Or that agencies will even work with me.”
“That’d be their loss.” Said with a kiss to his cheek.
“Yeah, but mine too. Or if they do work with me... Even when I had Sofia, they put me in foster care. That happens a lot. Kids get taken away when their parents just need money to support them. I don’t want to end up as that for someone else.” A thought that feels lodged in Alex’s chest: how easily he could have landed somewhere other than here, with strangers for family.
It must show because Jake runs a hand down his arm but doesn’t say anything. For a minute, the only sound is the conversation of the house settling around them.
“I still want to,” Alex says, shakingly. “I just don’t know how.”
Another kiss, a press of Jake’s lips to his, a slight withdrawal. “Then you should.” As if it’s that simple.
Later, long after Jake goes to sleep beside him, Alex lies there turning the idea over—but doesn’t toss it away.
Chapter Twenty-Two
July
Jake
It rains the following afternoon, a downpour that eliminates any chance of a game. Guys trade exaggerated stories about Boston ballpark rats before sighing with collective relief when Courtland declares the game officially banged.
Jake changes out of his uniform into his street clothes, watching as Alex redresses. He’s admiring the loop of Alex’s necklace—and distracted by the memory of how it looks thumping against his sternum—when Gordon comes over.
“Team bus is leaving,” Gordon says. Which Jake knows, since they’ve yelled it several times.
“I’m staying in Providence with Angelides.” Strange to call Alex by his last name here, even if he’sAlex, who spent that morning fixing a cabinet door for Sofia. Who Jake woke up pressed against, thinking about how life could be like this, if he hung ’em up and retreated to Rhode Island.
Gordon nods. If he’s surprised by that, it doesn’t show.
“We worked stuff out,” Jake adds.
“Seems like.”
Jake’s heart speeds up.Gordon knows. Mostly because they haven’t tried to be anything but obvious, hoping that the team would take their resolution to their previous animosity and ask no further questions.
“Thinking about doing some more interviews for the documentary,” Gordon says. “Work on Angel for me, would you?”
A couple-ish ask, and Jake can’t just say,Are we cool?in case the answer is no. Ten years ago, Gordon told him the game could be stingy; maybe this is his way of being generous.
“I’ll mention it to Alex,” Jake says. “Don’t know how much good it’ll do, but I’ll try.”
“Do that.” Gordon claps him on shoulder. “You all be sure to drive safe. It’s really coming down out there.”
Alex drives them back to Providence, hands at the ten and two of the truck’s steering wheel. The rain hasn’t stopped and traffic’s at a standstill. An accident on 95 sends them to an alternative route that isn’t much faster. Alex hunches his shoulders like he’s angry at the weather.
