Page 84 of King of the Crease

“I think it’s cool that you found someone. Didn’t expect it to be a guy, but whatever. I don’t need details. How are you feeling, Dad?”

I do a double take at his inquiry. Of the many questions I thought he’d have, that wasn’t one of them.

“I’m feeling good.” A big grin takes over my face at the hint of thinking of Nick. “I’m feeling really good. But who cares about me. What about you? You’re going through a lot of change. Your mom’s getting married. Your dad has a boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Uh, well…yeah.” I get tongue-tied like I’m the one in the passenger seat answering questions from my parents about whether or not I inhale.

“This sounds serious. Is it serious, Dad?” Brody begins to sound almost worried.

“I think it’s headed that way. We haven’t talked about what things will look like when he goes back to Baltimore, but we will eventually.”

“Isn’t he going back next week?”

“Yeah.”

“So shouldn’t you have that talk, like, pretty soon?”

For someone who’s so academic, Brody’s shockingly adept at romantic situations. If saving our environment doesn’t pan out, he should be a therapist. Or at least host a dating reality show.

I’ve been putting off asking Nick what happens after Christmas, but the clock is ticking. I know things are still new between us, but they feel right. I can’t let this guy slip away.

26

NICK

Hank helps Brody run his lines for Little Shop of Horrors. The acting seems about accurate for a high school kid. Some beats Brody stumbles through as he tries to remember his lines, and other beats he goes over-the-top. I’m not one to judge. I can barely act as a prince or a Baltimorian. I doubt I’d be much better at playing a maniacal dentist who gets killed and fed to a demonic plant.

Brody serenades us with the two musical numbers he’s a part of, “Dentist!” and “Now (It’s Just the Gas).” All three of us are shocked at how well he can sing, and when it comes to musical theater, isn’t that the most important part? Brody sheds his bookish self when he plays Orin, showing off major pizzazz.

Hank beams with pride through every line and lyric. He gives his son a standing ovation when he’s done.

I wish this could be every night for me. Shepherd’s pie and hanging with my boyfriend and his son. It beats every swanky soiree I’ve been to.

“Bravo!” Hank takes fake flowers from a vase and throws them at Brody. “Pretend those are real flowers.”

“I still have work to do memorizing my lines.” Brody flops onto the couch.

“I’m impressed you have most of them down,” I say.

“I memorized the Periodic Table in seventh grade for fun. I got this.”

We eat dinner around the coffee table, a fire going in the fireplace.

“I can’t wait to see you in costume on that stage. My son the actor.”

“I’m not an actor, Dad. I’m doing this to fulfill a requirement and ensure my transcript is spotless before applying to colleges.”

“That’s what they all say. I don’t know, Brodster, I think you could be an actor. Stanford or wherever you wind up must have a theater department. You could do some more shows,” Hank says.

“We’ll see.” If he’s caught the theater bug, he’s not telling us.

“You’d be okay if he dropped science and tech and majored in theater?” I ask Hank, galled at his openness.

“Yeah. Do what you want. You’re smart. You’ll figure it out,” Hank says with easy confidence. He gives Brody’s knee a sweet, soft pat. “My chips are always with you.”

My father could never and would never. He had very strong opinions on what I could study…and what I could do with my life. I didn’t have the opportunity to figure things out. How different would my life have been if I had that latitude and the unwavering support Hank has for Brody?