Page 25 of The Quarterback
He tried to hide his tentative first sip from Nick, but of course, Nick saw. He stopped chopping, waiting for Colton’s reaction. “I have beer, if you want that instead.”
“No, no.” He waved Nick off. The wine was lighter than he expected, brighter. Clean and crisp, like honeysuckle nectar on a summer day. His only other experiences with wine were stolen sips from his mom’s thick-as-tar red wines and the Mad Dog wine coolers he and his friends had downed when they thought they were the height of cool in high school. This was way different. Better. “I like it. I’ve never had wine this classy before.”
Nick arched an eyebrow. “Is this your first real wine? Outside of whatever you can buy on the bottom shelf of a gas station with a fake ID?”
“I mean, I sneaked some of my mom’s red wine before. It was pretty gross.”
“Red is an acquired taste.” Nick finished chopping vegetables and turned to the chicken. “White wine is easier to start with, and it goes well with summer. Pinot grigio”—he gestured toward Colton’s glass—“or sauvignon blanc. I might get adventurous and let you try a chardonnay.”
“Have you gone wine tasting out in Hill Country? The wineries are supposed to be amazing.” He saw advertisements for them all over the place, especially when parents weekend came around and the wineries and bed-and-breakfasts tried to siphon parents away from campus. His mom did that once: came up for the weekend and stayed at a winery outside of town. She spent more time there than visiting campus. Or him.
“You know, I never made it out there.” Nick seemed wistful. “It was something Cynthia and I said we’d do, but we never took the weekend and did it.”
He took a gulp of his wine. Had to clear his throat after. “Cynthia. Is that… Justin’s mom?”
Nick nodded. He’d moved on to assembling the kebabs, lining up slices of bell pepper, mushroom, and onion in between chicken cubes. “My ex.”
“Justin never talks about her.”
“He wouldn’t. They’re estranged.”
Silence hung, thick and heavy. Colton fidgeted. He’d wandered into a minefield, and he didn’t know how to fix it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Justin never talked about the divorce?” Nick lined up a half dozen kebabs in a shallow glass pan. He didn’t look at Colton as he fiddled with the skewers.
“No. He only said you were moving down here. I think Wes was the one who said you were getting a divorce.” He frowned, trying to think back. No, Justin hadn’t ever said anything about it. One day, Nick was a part of their lives, and it was something Colton had just taken as fact, like Wes being gay and Justin moving in. Justin and Nick were a package deal, he’d thought. Wes clued him in to why it wasJustin’s dadand notJustin’s mom and dada little later, but other than that…
“I left her for him.” Was it his imagination, or was Nick stabbing the vegetables and chicken a little more violently? “For Justin. She became intolerant. No, that’s not accurate. She always was, but I didn’t let myself see it.” He sighed. “It came to a head, and I had to make a choice. Her or him.”
Colton’s jaw dropped. His fingers curled on the countertop, nails digging into the pads of his palm.He chose his son.
Justin is sofuckinglucky.
Nick shook his head like he was shaking off the past. He washed his hands, then poured himself a glass of wine, larger than the one he’d poured Colton. “Ready to head outside and start the grill?”
Colton followed him to the balcony, and while Nick put the kebabs on the grill, he carried plates and forks and the roll of paper towels out to the patio table. Nick gave him four kebabs, taking two for himself. Before he plated Colton’s, he slid the chicken and veggies off the skewer so Colton could eat one-handed.
So fucking lucky.
As if on cue, both of their phones blew up with text messages, photos from Justin and Wes out at the ranch. Justin astride a horse, Wes in silhouette in the sun on his own horse. Cattle spread across a pasture that stretched from horizon to horizon, scrub grass and West Texas lowlands. Dust rose in puffy clouds behind the cattle and their horses, and the picture looked hot enough that Colton’s neck started to sweat. There was a close-up of Justin, smiling for the camera with dirt smeared across one cheek, his blond hair tumbled over half of his face beneath the rim of his cowboy hat. Wes standing on the lower rung of a split rail fence, peering at the herd. And then a truly stunning sunset, burnished gold and fallen-star blue in watery layers above the minimal scrub brush of the Trans-Pecos.
Nick beamed at his phone, hearting every photo. Colton was close enough to Nick to see him save every one and then take the close-up of Justin’s dirt-smudged face and make it his phone background, replacing a picture of Wes and Justin from the champions gala in February. Colton saved the sunset.
Looks amazing, bro,he texted.Gorgeous.
I’m so exhausted,Justin texted.I can barely even type.
He sent a line of laughing emojis.
Was a good day,Wes texted. That was two more words than Colton expected from him.
Looks like you both are doing great!Nick texted.
Even my hair is tired.Justin, again. Colton sent more laughing emojis.How was your day? Bored with the internship yet?
Not at all. I loved it.
Colton did great!Nick texted.He’s going to do wonderfully.
