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Chapter 6
“Good practice today, everyone. Give each other a pat on the shoulder. We’ve had several SWOLF score improvements today, everyone worked hard, and you all behaved as a team,” Finn said as the kids climbed out of the pool.
“Hey, Dad, after I shower, can I go to Eli’s for a sleepover? His mom will pick us up.” Max stopped in front of him, wrapped in a towel. With his hair and eyelashes wet, he looked much younger, reminding Finn of his son’s toddler days when they used to cuddle together after Max’s bath time until they both fell asleep. He spent more nights in his son’s room or on the sofa than he had in his own bedroom.
“Is it okay with his parents?”
“Yes. He checked with them before he asked me.”
“Fine. But, are you sure you’re not too tired?” Though he had planned to take Max out to eat after practice instead of cooking dinner, as usual, he was glad the boy spent time with friends. Eli was his closest friend from elementary school, and though they didn’t attend the same middle school, they kept in touch, thanks to the club.
“I’m not tired, and all we’re gonna do is play X-box with Eli’s sister.”
Something about the blush that spread on Max’s face, and the way his voice became a little hoarse, alerted Finn that the sister might be a point of interest.
“His sister, huh?”
“She’s a year older than me … than us.”
Finn nodded. “Okay. Be good and have fun. I’ll call later to check in on you. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning for breakfast. We can go to Blue Jam Café.”
“Thanks, Dad!”
He patted his son’s shoulder then texted Eli’s mother to ensure the sleepover on a Friday night was really okay with her.
Max was still young, but they’d already had “The Talk” earlier that year—physical changes, sex, consent, protection—the latter was a tender spot for Finn—being attracted to various people, exposure to porn.
Growing up without a dad, Finn had learned everything from his friends, and their information had been far from accurate. He didn’t want Max to rely on such sources or, worse, on porn. Starting when Max had been ten, Finn began with age-appropriate information and, at twelve, had sat him down for a longer talk about the physical changes he was beginning to experience.
When Max had follow-up questions, Finn happily realized how much his son trusted him, even with things that had been difficult for him to utter at first.
“The size will change. Promise,” he had answered one question.
“It might happen, but it’s not the end of the world if it does,” he had answered another.
“It’s natural and as it should be. Nothing to worry about,” he had answered yet another.
After Eli’s mother picked the boys up, Finn called Avery to finalize their arrangement regarding the holidays. She was supposed to get Max for Halloween and Thanksgiving, and he for Christmas until noon. Max wanted to spend Halloween in Blueshore, like he had the year before, but it was Avery’s turn.
On the one hand, he hated that his son’s life was spread between two towns and two houses. On the other hand, there wasn’t much he could do about it, except try to streamline it with Avery as much as possible.
When that uncomfortable phone call was over, Finn locked the pool area’s front doors.
He had no more practices that evening, and Max’s unexpected sleepover removed the safety belt that he relied on to keep him from doing something stupid. He knew exactly what date it was, because he couldn’t get that date out of his mind ever since he had seen it on a brochure in a bakeshop. Maybe if he tired himself to the point of collapse, he wouldn’t do what every atom in him craved since the Riviera View fair.
He flipped through the contacts on his phone. He couldn’t think of anyone on that list as the type of friend that he could confide in, spend the evening with, and ask to keep him from doing something he wasn’t supposed to do.
The sound of water lapping at the pool’s edge echoed in the vast, silent space.
Finn threw the phone down on a towel and arrowed himself into the pool, determined to swim until he was too tired to think.
Two hours later, with burning muscles, he showered, knowing he’d pay the full price the next day. Although he still competed in his age group, his endurance wasn’t the same as when he had been a pro. At almost forty, he wasn’t in the same shape anymore, especially since he didn’t dedicate every waking hour to his training and nutrition, nor did he have sports medical professionals available for him twenty-four-seven.
On the way home, he negotiated with himself, summoning logic, common sense, sense of duty, and even wardrobe don’ts—surely people didn’t go to gallery exhibitions in Henley shirts and jeans they kept in their lockers. But, right before turning onto his street, Finn broke the wheel left and drove out of Blueshore, toward the highway that would take him to Wayford, to a gallery that he had been in once.
Once he had opened the floodgates, there was no escape from the deluge.
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