“I, uh, don't know. We were, then we weren't, and now I've fucked things up.” My breath catches, and for a moment breathing seems like the hardest thing in the world.
“But I think...even if there isn't a relationship announcement, I need to do this. Come out. For me. I'm just...so tired of lying about this. It's time.”
“Well, you'll have my full support. I'll brush off that press release, make another couple passes at it. Are you thinking soon?”
I laugh, just a little.
“If it weren't for Jamie, I'd have done it in an angry Instagram post two weeks ago.”
The sound on the other end of the line isdefinitelya gulp.
“Well, I'll go ahead and send Mr. Carter a thank you bouquet for that. Don't do this in anger, and don't do it out of sadness. Andabsolutelydon't do it to get him back. But if you're doing it with a level head, because it's what you want? I've got your back.”
“Thanks, Jack.”
“And Ethan, before I go – who do you want to do your coming out story?”
“Huh?”
“Glossy magazine, lots of pictures, the privacy violation of your very nightmares. But if we play it right, we should be able to get a good bit of money out of them.”
I laugh wetly, the mercenary tone in his voice reminding me thisisstill Jack Kinkaid.
“Jack, I don'tneedmore money. I think we've had this conversation before.”
“Then donate it. But I'm pretty sure there are some kids – and some adults, for that matter – who could really stand to read that story. Think you can help them?”
I think back to Jamie, to how I could have helped him and didn't. Maybe it doesn't have to always be like that.
“Um, maybe. Yeah.”
“Great. Have a good game, ok Ethan?”
“I will. Thanks, Jack.”
For the first time in a long time, it doesn't feel like a lie.
My plane isa little early getting into Las Vegas, and I take a league-provided towncar to the Strip. As I settle into the hotel room, I notice an agenda of the week's events laid out on the desk. A meet-and-greet this afternoon, followed by the skills competition tomorrow night and the game itself on Wednesday.
For many of these guys, the All Star Game is a vacation. Most of the guys my age will have brought along their kids and wives, while the younger ones will flock around the poolside bar. I'd been once before, in my late twenties, and remember alcohol-drenched nights, being dragged to strip clubs and pretending interest. This time, I plan to stick with the guys my own age.
At four o'clock, I get changed into a pair of shorts and a button-up, ready to head down to the private room where we'll all be gathering. In the elevator, I check my phone and immediately wish I hadn't. There's still no reply from Jamie, even though his plane must have landed by now. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.
I have to accept that this is probably over. That my life in Minneapolis may never have Jamie in it again, at least not the way I want him in it. I meant what I said – that it was worth it, either way.Without him, I would never have talked to Jack, would never have been honest about myself.
I just wish I hadn't had to lose Jamie to gain that.
As I walk into the private room and cross to the bar, a few eyes seem to follow me. I recognize Holmes, a forward for Boston who played some of his early years in Minneapolis, and Virtanen, a defenseman in Florida who I paired with once or twice in the AHL. At the bar, I request a beer, then size up the room, wondering what on Earth to do now.
Luckily, Holmes waves me over, gesturing to an empty seat at his table. It looks to be mostly veteran players, which is my best bet at an event like this. As I approach the table, I can hear them talking about how much the Central division has shifted this year.
“Here's the man who can tell you the most, guys. You know Tremblay from Minneapolis, right?”
There are nods around the table. I'm not the friendliest guy, I know that, but I've been in the league for long enough that I at least knowofmost of these guys. It's odd to realize they recognize me, too.
“What exactly am I telling them, Holmesy?”
“Whether your team is ever planning on letting anyone else win ever again.”
