My Goal

by H J Perry

  December

  CARLOS

  Acres of cold, empty cotton space lay on either side of him as Carlos felt lonelier than ever in his bed. He should feel elated after last night and the kisses and cuddles that they shared. Harry was open for something between them. That much was clear. The evening confirmed that not only was he into guys, but he seemed to be into Carlos. He should feel optimistic and encouraged.

  But then there was the way Harry left.

  And the way he hadn't returned Carlos's texts that morning.

  Sober, and in the cold light of day, did Harry regret what passed between them?

  Carlos lay in bed awake for hours; it seemed he'd never sleep.

  Eventually, he slept and woke up late.

  He wondered if Harry had already left for his mother's house and church. They hadn't discussed a time.

  With his phone in his hand, Carlos sent one more "Good morning" into the ether and got out of bed to get ready, assuming he was still in time for church. There were so many things Harry could be doing that meant he hadn't seen the message yet and wasn't explicitly ignoring Carlos.

  On every team he played, there had been a few religious people who had to work prayer into their daily routine, or who talked about how their religion shaped their lives. Mostly people kept their religious convictions, or lack of them, to themselves. And Carlos hadn't imagined Harry as religious, unless he was sneaking off to church in the few minutes of the day when they weren't together.

  Harry never spoke about Christianity except when talking about his parents or his brother. Religion was obviously a big thing for them, though perhaps not for Harry himself.

  There were no Christian symbols in Harry's apartment. No crucifixes on the walls, no bibles lying on the coffee table, and no pictures of the Virgin Mary anywhere to be seen.

  It was unlike Carlos's childhood memories of homes in Spain. But things had changed a lot over the past fifteen or twenty years and to Carlos, Spain felt almost as secular as England.

  The players who'd known Harry for years saw him as a fountain of biblical wisdom, but the source of that reputation wasn't obvious to a newcomer, even though Carlos could almost qualify as Harry's stalker.

  As an Agnostic, Carlos could do church. He'd spent his childhood moving through Roman Catholic schools. He knew enough about Christianity to hold his own with any group in any church gathering. Which was just as well, because he had the impression that Harry's background was of the more evangelical type.

  It wasn't God that motivated him this Sunday morning; it was getting to know Harry better by discovering the things that were important to him and his background.

  He was going to meet Harry's mother, Mrs. Carter, a widow. Harry's brother was now a missionary. Carlos figured Mrs. Carter would probably ask about his family, so he picked up his iPad ready to bring photographs. He wondered what reaction he'd get. He was going to meet Harry's mom. And he was prepared. He was willing to make the most of the day to achieve his goals.

  He just needed to track down Harry.

  HARRY

  What happened? Harry was there, but he couldn't explain it. It seemed to come from nowhere. One minute he was sitting watching the TV with Carlos, as he had many times before. The next minute he was reliving that teenage experience from many years ago, but better.

  What was Carlos's angle? That's what Harry couldn't understand.

  Despite all that happened last night, Harry knew Carlos was straight. Well, maybe he was bisexual, but even if that were true, there was no way a man like Carlos could seriously want to date Harry. Not when he could choose from many beautiful women. Why choose the socially unacceptable option, when it was so much easier to do as expected and go with girls?

  And yet Harry's pulse raced, and butterflies fluttered around his stomach when he remembered Carlos specifically said he wasn't looking for one night of fun. He wanted them to be boyfriends. What crazy talk.

  What a crazy year 2012 turned out to be. It started with Harry discovering a gay teammate, and becoming good friends with that man's boyfriend. That couple proved it was possible to be gay, and have a relationship, and be a professional footballer. A combination Harry previously believed impossible.

  He was almost at their building. Time for a quick shower after his run before he left for church. He'd hoped to avoid Carlos and confront the issues raised from the previous night.

  In his apartment, he could see he'd missed calls and messages from Carlos on his phone that he'd left at home. He couldn't avoid the man, but he could reply when he was ready to leave. Harry brought up the taxi app and booked a cab to take him to church. If Carlos insisted on coming along, Harry made sure they were chaperoned for the journey so as to avoid any difficult conversations.

  CARLOS

  When he finally heard from Harry, the succinct text message stated that the taxi would be there in five minutes. Carlos made a snap decision about appropriate clothing—smart casual—and was ready in record time. The taxi was already waiting when Carlos reached the ground floor with his iPad in his hand, phone, and wallet in pocket.

  "We are meeting my mom at the church and then we are going to visit her next-door neighbors from her previous home. They live in the house next to where I grew up. So don't judge me."

  "We all grew up somewhere."

  There wasn't going to be any discussion about the previous evening, not just yet. Nevertheless, Harry was his usual self; nothing seemed to have changed for good or bad. When they arrived at the church, there was already a large crowd gathered. It seemed as if everybody must already be there. Harry knew most of the congregation, which was evident by the smiles and nods, if not the handshakes and introductions.

  "Mom, this is Carlos. I told you about him. Carlos, this is my mom."

  "I'm pleased to meet you, Mrs. Carter," Carlos said, holding out his hand and hoping to make a good impression.

  Mrs. Carter was standing with a crowd of people. Carlos discovered they were the family who lived next door to Harry as he grew up, Mr. and Mrs. Cartwright and their teenage daughter, Bethany.

  "You are coming to dinner with us after church, I hope?" asked Mrs. Cartwright.

  Carlos looked at Harry, who nodded.

  "If I'm invited, I'd be delighted to attend."

  There was a lot more singing in Harry's church than Carlos was used to. The building was full of people of all ages. For the most part, they looked cheerful, and there was a great atmosphere. It was just as well, since the service seemed to go on for hours.

  And when it ended most people lingered to talk for longer. To these people, the Sunday morning commitment to church was a major event. After church, Carlos wasn't sure whether he should be disappointed in not visiting Harry's mom in her current home, which Harry had bought for her, or pleased about the opportunity to see Harry's childhood home from the outside and visit a family in a house that was its mirror image.

  It was a small, humble family dwelling, of the type that so many footballers were brought up in, and in sharp contrast to the homes in which they could now afford to live. Like most footballers, Carlos had bought his parents a house. As a single man and new to the city, he rented an apartment. But as a wealthy millionaire he had an impressive property portfolio. He expected Harry had one too.

  While Mrs. Cartwright disappeared into the kitchen to prepare the meal, the rest of them sat around a table already laid for dinner.

  Bethany appeared as if she didn't want to be there, a typical teenager. Mr. Cartwright was keen to talk about football. Mrs. Carter listened politely. When there was a sufficient lull in the conversation, Carlos took the opportunity to steer it.

  "What will you be doing for Christmas, Harry?" Carlos asked. It was a deliberately calculated question.

  "We go to church on Christmas Eve every year, and I stay with Mom. Then we meet up with the team on Christmas Day in the afternoon for our pre-match hotel stay. I have always played in a match the next day. I take it for granted."
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br />   The twenty-sixth of December was one of the biggest, busiest football days in the English calendar.

  "I think it's a bit much that they don't let you stay with your families at Christmas. You could get up early and travel to the game on Boxing Day," said Mr. Cartwright.

  "It's how they do things. We're used to it. It's not as if we'll play forever," Carlos responded.

  "What about your plans, Carlos?" asked Mrs. Carter. "Will you see your family at Christmas?"

  "Sadly no," Carlos replied. "Mom and Dad went back to live in Spain a few years ago. My brother lives there too. He's in Madrid."

  Carlos picked up his iPad from the table. "I have photographs." His seemingly innocent directing of the conversation was flowing so smoothly. "So I'll pretty much be on my own until we meet up with the team in the afternoon on Christmas Day. I might do some training in the morning. Perhaps go for a run."

  Mrs. Carter looked at Harry and tilted her head. "Harry?"

  Harry said, "Would you like to join us for Christmas? I can see that Mom hates to think of you on your own."

  Carlos hoped he wasn't too obvious in his calculation, but it worked. "I'd love to join you. It would mean a lot to me. I miss a family Christmas. Would you like to see some pictures of my family?"

  "I'd love to," said Mrs. Carter.

  He tapped the code in his iPad and clicked on the photo album. He knew exactly where the photos were that he wanted to share. He'd sorted them out earlier into one particular album.

  "This is my mom."

  "She is very beautiful," said Mrs. Carter.

  She had long, thick, jet-black hair pinned up on her head with decorative flowers in this particular photograph. Her skin was golden-tanned, her makeup professionally done, and she wore an exclusive designer dress.

  Carlos laughed. "She is very Spanish. She doesn't always look like that. It was a special occasion."

  He passed the iPad around for everyone to see. When it returned to Carlos, he brushed his finger over the screen across to bring up the next picture. "My parents together."

  His dad was in a suit, making the special occasion more evident. Again everybody took a turn to look. Bethany quickly passed the iPad on to the next person.

  Carlos was most interested to see reactions to what he had to say about the third picture. From where he was sitting it was difficult to look at Mrs. Carter beside him, but Harry was directly in sight, seated across the table opposite him.

  "All of these pictures are taken at my brother's wedding. They are a few years old...three years, I think." He pulled up the third picture.

  "Oh, they look so smart. Your mom and dad make a lovely couple. Will we see your brother and his wife next?" Mr. Cartwright returned the iPad.

  "This is my brother, José, and his husband, Peter."

  A flicker of surprise briefly flashed over Harry's face, and then it was gone. Carlos only saw it because he was looking for it.

  "Oh." There was a definite tone of surprise and disapproval in Mrs. Carter's voice.

  Her face wrinkled as she examined the image, as if she could have misheard and was looking for a bride.

  "Men can marry men in Spain?" Mrs. Carter looked confused. "I must admit I am surprised that's possible. I thought Spain was a religious country."

  No one in England seemed to know that same-sex marriage had been legal in Spain for many years.

  They politely passed the iPad around with no further comment. Bethany took more notice of this image. Undeterred, pretending not to notice the shock and disapproval that he detected, Carlos swiped the screen yet again for another photograph.

  "This is my parents, my brother and me, and Peter as the new addition to our family." He liked this photo particularly because it was exactly as he'd described. Peter was being welcomed by the family. "As you can see my brother is older than me, and not nearly as handsome."

  "Forgive me for asking," said Mrs. Carter, "but your mom and dad, they don't mind your brother and this man?"

  "His husband," Carlos corrected. "They are married."

  "In Spain, they are married, but I find that hard to accept. In my religion and this country, only men and women can get married."

  Carlos certainly didn't want to argue with this lady when he was a guest for dinner. She had already invited him for Christmas, and he couldn't take his mind off her son. So he shifted his attention to another thing she said.

  "José and his husband are very happy, and they have been together for many years, so of course my parents are happy. They're glad to see José with somebody who loves him. They love Peter as if he were their son. He's a nice guy. At Christmas they'll all get together. I think they're going over to Peter's parents' home."

  Mrs. Carter nodded as if she understood what he was saying. Harry simply looked stunned.

  Although not outright hostile, the response disappointed Carlos. He hoped for a little more warmth towards a loving married couple, especially when they were his brother and Peter. Carlos should have prepared for the worst, but he'd hoped for the best, and this wasn't it.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  December

  CARLOS

  Through the two weeks leading to Christmas, Harry and Carlos continued as if their one night getting closer had never taken place. At first, they were always among company, so it was impossible to discuss.

  Given how Harry was so reluctant to stay the night, Carlos thought his friend needed time to process things. Apparently surprised by Carlos's advances, Harry was not repulsed by them, but enthusiastically embraced him at the time. Harry must be bisexual or gay too.

  After Carlos was the first to initiate things between them, he worried that he'd come on too strong by inviting Harry to stay the night or by confessing that he was crazy for the guy. He figured he should leave it to Harry to make the next move. Two weeks passed while Carlos waited for a move that never happened.

  December was the busiest month in the English football calendar, and perhaps Harry needed more time. But it was Christmas, and Carlos was not about to let Harry renege on the invitation. He grilled Harry on his family's festive traditions, bought gifts, and packed pajamas.

  For Harry's mom, it had to be a sensible present. She was not impressed by luxuries or frivolities. After checking with Harry, Carlos bought her a cashmere scarf with coordinating hat and gloves. Practical and gorgeous.

  Harry was much easier to buy for. The problem wasn't knowing what to buy, but deciding on one thing. It would be entirely inappropriate to shower him with gifts, no matter how much Carlos wanted to.

  Christmas held a tightly packed schedule for the Carter family, one that dated back to Harry's childhood. Visiting neighbors, singing carols, and attending church all happened Christmas Eve. Carlos tagged along and was made to feel completely welcome.

  It was great to get out and meet new people in a different environment. Even though he wasn't stepping out as a celebrity, he was recognized by everyone, everywhere. Everyone wanted his autograph and to hear some of those legendary Carlos Garcia stories, like tales of his incredible tackles and impossible goals.

  Finally, it was sometime after midnight, officially into Christmas Day, that they returned to Mrs. Carter's home. While the families of many footballers lived lavish lifestyles in ostentatious homes, that was not Harry's mother's way. As if it were necessary, which it was not, Harry had apologized in advance for his mother's humble home. It was neat, clean, and tidy with just two bedrooms and two bathrooms.

  "Do you want me to bring anything? Food or water?"

  Harry had to be joking about the food. They were offered a snack at every home they visited. Carlos had eaten more mince pies that night than in his entire lifetime.

  "Just a glass of water."

  Carlos used the bathroom, slipped into his pajamas, and was in one of the twin beds in the spare room at lightning speed. He was exhausted and could have easily dozed off. But he was eager to avoid an uncomfortable situation as they shared a bedroom for the first
time. Carlos knew he'd worked his way into this situation via cunning manipulation, and he didn't want Harry to regret inviting him.

  He faked sleep, knowing he was unconvincing. He was aware of Harry opening the bedroom door, and putting the glass down by the side of his bed. Despite his tiredness, sleep refused to come. Instead, his eyes wanted to open and watch Harry moving around the room in darkness to discover what he was wearing to bed.

  He was aware of the minuscule distance between their beds. They could reach out and hold each other's hands, the room was so small and the beds so close together. Carlos wanted to step across the room and slip into that bed with Harry, to hold him and kiss him through the night as they had done only once on the sofa.

  HARRY

  It was a two-hour bus journey on Christmas afternoon. Nobody wanted that. The guys tried to keep lighthearted about it. All the team members had left behind their families in the middle of Christmas Day in order to travel to a hotel to eat, sleep, and wait out the hours until the lunchtime kick-off the next day. The smiles were false; underneath everyone was sulking, with the exception of Harry and Carlos. They were having a terrific Christmas.

  "How long do you think it will take to build it?" Harry asked.

  "I don't know. I just assumed we'd have time. If not, we will have to take it apart and try again another time."

  "You are planning to help me?"

  "Of course, I don't know if you can manage something this big." Carlos elbowed Harry in the ribs.

  "You know size is important."

  "I didn't get you the biggest because I knew you couldn't handle it. But with my help, then just maybe…"

  "As much as I'm enjoying your conversation, I am finding the mental images too disturbing." Alex popped his head around the edge of the seat from where he was sitting in front of them. "So I've got to ask, what the hell are you guys talking about?"

  "If it's what you're thinking, Alex, I'm hoping they don't tell us," Mark shouted from across the aisle. It seemed half the busload of football players had been listening, as Harry and Carlos were well aware, after deliberately talking so loudly.