Harrisburg Railers Box Set 1

by R J Scott

  “Have I told you today that I love you?” he asked, his voice thick with passion.

  “Several times on the sly.” I mouthed at his throat, nipping at the cords, kissing along his jaw, shuddering at the rasp of his whiskers on my tongue. I cupped his face, tipped his head, and kissed him slowly and thoroughly.

  “Ten, you need to get up, babe.”

  “I know.” I could feel him growing flaccid. I stole one more kiss, a light one, then eased myself off. Both of us made a noise of loss. “Okay, this place is a fucking freezer. What the shit is wrong with the weather?”

  I scurried around searching for my clothes. When I found them, I stood up to get my pants on and nearly knocked myself unconscious. I dropped to my knees, my sleep pants around my ankles, holding the top of my head.

  “Ah, fucking shit balls! Fuck! Damn this fucking hobbit house! Motherfucking horse-cocked prick ceiling! Am I bleeding? Bitch bastard whoreson! Who makes a roof so fucking close to the floor?! Jesus Christ on a motherfucking Zamboni!”

  “Wow, you really are a hockey player,” Mads chortled from the right. “Do we need to get you into the quiet room for concussion protocol?”

  “Suck my dick, that hurt.”

  He laughed. “So I gathered.”

  I found no humor in a busted skull, but Mads was still chuckling as we climbed down from the treehouse a few minutes later. I skipped the last board and jumped to the lawn, ready to throw a scathing comment up at my lover until I heard the sliding doors from the music room opening. I whirled around. Brady and Lisa were standing two feet away from us in their pajamas, looking damn guilty. My brother was holding a couple of bed pillows, and his wife had a balled-up blanket under her arm. Her gaze flickered wildly between Mads and me as she did some quick math. Had Brady not told her about me and Mads? Going by the stupefied look on her pretty face, no he had not.

  “Wow, so this isn’t awkward or anything,” I mumbled when Mads stepped up beside me. Four adults stood in the yard, in their sleep clothes, muttering for a moment. “Okay, so, yeah, we’re going in. Have fun.”

  I ran to the door. Mads was chuckling even harder now. We stumbled into the kitchen snickering like Beavis and Butthead.

  “Did you see the look on Lisa’s face?” I snorted as I rounded the kitchen table. Mads was shutting the door as quietly as he could. “She totally did not expect to see you and me coming out of the tree house!”

  “I’ll admit that I was a little surprised myself,” my mother said from over at the sink.

  I spun to face her lurking in the darkness. Mads made a raspy choking sound. She flipped on the little light over the sink and scoured the shadows.

  “Would you care to explain this, Jared?”

  My jaw hit my chest. Why was she singling out Mads?

  Mads cleared his throat and took a couple of steps until he could grab the back of one of the kitchen chairs. I stood by the fridge catching flies.

  “It’s exactly what you think it is, Jean.” His gaze moved to me for a moment. Oh man, he was not as coolly calm as he wanted us to think he was. I was getting to know him well. I could see the turmoil in those stunning eyes of his. “Tennant and I are lovers.”

  Mom’s mouth flattened. She glanced at me. “How long have you and Jared been a couple?”

  “Define being a couple,” I said.

  Her flat mouth puckered. Yep. I’d stepped right into it. Even Mads grunted at the remark.

  “You know full well what being a couple means, Tennant. Were you and Jared lovers when you told your father and I that you were gay?”

  “We hadn’t really—”

  Mads shouldered his way into the conversation. “Yes, Jean, we were.”

  “Thank you for being a mature adult and answering my question respectfully, Jared.”

  Ow. Ouch. That one hurt like a puck to the groin.

  “We should have told you and Bruce weeks ago. I take full responsibility for that. I should have come to you and Bruce before Ten and I started dating and sat down with you.”

  “Really, Mads? What is this, the fourteenth century? Asking my parents if we can see each other? Uh, no. I make that call, not them.”

  “Tennant, this is not the time to get your ass up,” Jared said tersely.

  “Do you know what hurts me the most, Tennant?” Mom sliced into the snipe-fest between me and my boyfriend. I pulled my gaze away from Mads. “It’s not that you and him snuck out to diddle around in the tree house. Brady and Jamie have been using that damn old thing for sneaking sex when they stay here for years.”

  And I’d thought I was being so sneaky clever. “I didn’t want to do that in your house,” I told her weakly.

  The confession didn’t seem to make her less angry… or hurt. Her arms were wound around her middle as if I’d gut-punched her and she was expecting another one.

  “Your father and I are well aware that our sons aren’t leading celibate lives.” She stopped protecting her middle to fold her arms over her chest. “But I do appreciate that you have respect enough for us to take your romping to the tree house. See, it’s not that I’m mad that you and Jared snuck out to fool around, and I’m not even mad that you’ve chosen Jared as a lover. He’s a good man who’s been a friend of this family for years. That he’s slightly older is a good thing. He’ll temper how rash you can be at times.”

  Rash? I wasn’t rash. Was I? What did that mean exactly? I wished I could Google it, but it really wasn’t the time. “What I’m upset about is that you—out of all my boys—you hid this relationship from me even after you came out.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I just… Coming out was drama enough, you know? I couldn’t… It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you, Mom.”

  “Do your brothers know?”

  Mads shuffled a bit beside me, the chair creaking as he pushed down on the back a little harder. If he broke it, Mom would whip us both with the broken spindles.

  “Tennant, look at me,” she said.

  I had to now, but I so didn’t want to. Her gaze met mine. I nodded. Mom inhaled, coughed a little, and squared her shoulders.

  “Brady walked in on us after we’d been…” I let the explanation wither.

  “And I thought we were so close.” She pulled her robe tightly around her and walked out, leaving a soft cloud of her flowery perfume behind. I moved to follow her. Mads grabbed my shoulder, turning me around to face him.

  “Let her be for a bit, Ten. She’s feeling abandoned. I get that. If Ryker had someone in his life that he was sleeping with, I’d like to think he’d tell me about her… or him.”

  “But I was going to tell them. Shit. Man, this is fucked.”

  Jared pulled me to his chest and curled his arms around me. I sank into his embrace. This was not at all how this visit home was supposed to be playing out.

  Rash. It’s an adjective. It means “displaying or proceeding from a lack of careful consideration of the possible consequences of an action.” Mom said that I was rash. That meant she thought I was reckless or something. I pulled back the curtains on my bedroom window as the sun started to touch the sky with hot, pink fingers. When had I ever been reckless? Sure, I guess one could say that hooking up with my coach was a little impulsive, but love happens. We don’t have any control over who we fall for. Ugh. I threw the curtain back into place and sat on the edge of my bed. The bed that I had not slept in. Who the hell could sleep after ripping out their mother’s heart? Mads was probably pulling some big T & Ts—tossing and turnings—down in the basement as Ryker sawed wood beside him on the pullout. I wished I was beside him right now. Maybe he’d have some wise words for me. He was rugged and tough and travel worn. Shit. I’d just described my grandmother’s luggage.

  Knowing I was never going to sleep unless I fixed things with my mother, I went in search of her. I found Dad instead, making coffee while listening to some old seventies music on his iPad. He gave me a disappointed look over the shoulder of his favorite robe as it dangled off his arm
. Dad woke up slowly.

  “Is Mom up?” I enquired, dropping into what had been Jamie’s chair when we were all home. I picked up the chicken-shaped salt shaker to examine it.

  “She is, but she’s resting for a little longer. She has a busy day today.”

  I peeked from the salt shaker to Dad as he poured water into the back of the coffee maker. “Did she tell you about things?”

  My gaze went back to the glass hen in my palm. She was a cute chicken. White with black dots and a yellow beak.

  “Yes, she did. Tennant, why don’t you put that down and look at me?”

  “Because I didn’t let this chicken down.” I sighed, but placed the hen next to the rooster. The napkin holder was empty, I noticed.

  “You didn’t let your mother down either.”

  “Pft. Right.”

  He shuffled over, put a hand on my Pokémon tattoo, and squeezed hard. “You didn’t let anyone down. She realizes that. Why don’t you go fiddle around in the music room until the coffee’s done? Then we can talk more if she’s not down yet.”

  “Okay, yeah.” I pushed out of my seat, shoulders sagging.

  The music room was always the first to feel the touch of the sun. I plunked my sorry ass on the long bench in front of the massive black Steinway. For some reason that room was warmer than the rest of the house. Mom said it was because music warmed a soul better than any old forced air unit ever could. The sun peeked around the oak that cradled our treehouse. I poked at a couple of keys, then flipped through the sheet music on the rack. Holiday songs. Mom loved her Christmas carols. She’d been probably playing for the girls. I felt like the biggest bag of dicks in the world. Pulling one of the sheets out of the middle, I studied the notes and decided I could play it. Maybe.

  I got halfway through “The Dance of the Cygnets” from “The Nutcracker,” then faltered. Tried again and nailed it. Then I moved into “The Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” as the sun hit the ebony piano and the side of my face.

  “Nicely done, but your fingers were drooping.” Mom sat down beside me, her tiny butt taking little room. The last notes I’d played danced on the air to join the dust motes frolicking about in that fat ray of sun washing over us.

  “Mom…”

  “No, Tennant, you did nothing wrong.” She wiggled her hip a bit. I scooted over a couple of inches, then peeked to the side.

  Her hair was all brushed, her lipstick on, and her robe neatly tied over her pajamas. Just like every holiday morning I could recall. Except the holiday mornings of the past hadn’t included me being gay and having Mads as a lover. Man, things had been way easier back then.

  “It was me.” She exhaled loudly, then glanced at me. “I’m a foolish woman at times. How dare I expect you to tell me every damn thing in your life now that you’re an adult just because you used to when you were five?”

  “Mom, I swear I was going to tell you and Dad today… somehow.”

  She patted my thigh, then picked a black lab hair from my jogging pants. That too floated off to join the notes and dust motes.

  “You know what? Even if you hadn’t told us today, that would have been okay. It’s not for me to say when you fill me in on who you’re taking to bed. My God, I’m so nosy! It’s terrible.” She sort of laughed at herself.

  I smiled a little. “See, the thing was that I wasn’t even sure what Mads and I were then, you know? I mean, we were crazy attracted to each other but… man, this is hard.” I shoved my hands through my hair. Mom instantly reached up to flatten the mess back down. That made me feel lighter inside.

  “I just needed time. We needed time. To figure it out, to make sure. There’s been so much shit—I mean stuff—going on in our lives since I went to Harrisburg. I never meant for Brady to be the first to know, he just kind of showed up at Mads’ when I was there wearing strawberries and… You know what, we won’t go there, but if I could have picked one person to tell face to face, it would have been you.”

  “You’re a sweet young man, Tennant. I hope Jared knows how lucky he is.” She kissed me on the cheek, then reached up to pull out another sheet filled with notes. “How about one more song before I have to start baking pies and stuffing the turkey?”

  “Sure, you pick.”

  I knew before I saw the sheet music what it would be. Her favorite song by her favorite Piano Man. Not Christmas or Thanksgiving related at all, but it felt right. I played and we sang. When we got to the part about Levon being a good man, she reached up to grab my chin and sing those words right at me. Mom and I rocked that song to the very end. I gave her a soft kiss on the cheek and went off to find Mads. He was just coming up the stairs with Ryker on his heels.

  “My mom says you’re a lucky man,” I told him as I wrapped my arms around him.

  “I know that,” he murmured, before accepting the long, hard kiss I gave him in front of God and my half-awake family.

  The rest of the day was off-the-charts good. Tons of food, football, and cuddles on the couch with Mads. I shit you not. Mads and I. On the couch. Cuddling like a couple. And no one was freaked out in the least. After the meal was done at four, Ryker sat on one side of Mads and I on the other. The women folk were in the kitchen cleaning up. We manly men were spread out trying to digest and not fall asleep while we made predictions on who would win the Vikings–Lions matchup. My head was lolling on Mads’ shoulder as I battled off a nap. The tones of a mobile Pokémon game danced into my sleepy ears.

  “Ryker, what does it mean when this happens?” I heard Mads whisper.

  I rolled my head to the left to find Mads showing his son his morphing Pokémon creature.

  “Dude, are you evolving your Charmander?!” I asked, all sleepiness burning off. Jamie was snoring in the recliner.

  “Maybe,” Mads replied with a wicked smile toying at his kissable mouth.

  “Okay, I love you more than pumpkin pie. I want to have your baby.” I grabbed his face and kissed him loudly. “Guys, we’re going to go make a baby. Be back in twenty minutes,” I told my brothers, father, and the dog. Bourque woofed lazily.

  “Better give us thirty,” Mads tossed out, but couldn’t move due to overconsumption of turkey, stuffing, green bean casserole, and mashed potatoes with gravy.

  “You can have one of mine. Lisa made a spare,” Brady said around a yawn.

  “Maybe we should digest a little more before we try to make a baby,” Mads offered, and yawned as well.

  “Good call.” I curled into his side, sighed like a cat filled with cream, and promptly fell asleep.

  It sucked having to leave that evening, but all of us had games either the next day or Saturday. Ryker dozed on the flight back, his head resting on the window, his dad’s Railers coaching jacket as a pillow. Jared sat between his son and me, reading a book, his strong, masculine profile keeping me mesmerized. When he felt me staring, he glanced up from his book—some old thing with a knight on the front—and gave me a questioning look as he placed his open book on his thigh.

  “You’re really handsome,” I said with a smile.

  His gaze flickered to the people sitting in front of us, as if he were worried that they’d hear me saying that. With the love of a good family and this man welling up inside me, I placed my hand over his and his book.

  “Ten, are you sure you want to make such a public gesture?” he asked softly.

  I threaded my fingers through his. “I’ve never been more positive of anything in my life.”

  He lifted my knuckles to his lips. “I’ll be right beside you.”

  I sat back in my seat, my fingers woven with his, and let my eyes drift closed. If I had Mads with me I could face anything my coming out publicly would bring. I’d have to. There was no way I wanted to go back to hiding us from the world. Maybe after I made the announcement I could just go back to playing hockey and loving Jared Madsen. You know… the important things in life.

  Epilogue

  Mads

  Ten couldn’t sit still, he fidgete
d and fussed with the hem of his jersey and even though I placed a steadying hand on his knee he couldn’t stop. Not that I was any better. This was big, enormous, life changing stuff and it all hinged on a yes from both of us.

  “The concept of being the first out hockey player isn’t a small thing,” Ten said, and he placed a hand over mine and gripped hard.

  “Which is why we’re bringing in a crisis management expert. This is non-negotiable Ten, how we deal with this as a team will inform one hell of a lot of future decisions. For the team, and for hockey.”

  All I could think of was the kid out there on the ice somewhere in the ass end of Canada, worried about being honest with himself and everyone else for fear of not being able to play. I didn’t care, I was out, but I could be out, I was an ex player. Also, the bi thing meant that the label of gay wasn’t one that was used to describe me.

  But Ten? He’d be Tennant Rowe, the openly gay player for the Railers…

  When you played you didn’t hear the shit that the opposing teams threw at you, but what if that shit was coming from your team supporters? What if Ten coming out drove away crowds or became the subject of hate crimes. He’d said last night he wasn’t sure he was ready to be the person with millions of words of hate thrown at him. I could have said that it didn’t matter, but both of us knew it did.

  The week since Thanksgiving had been stressful, but weirdly also calm. Ten was internalizing a lot of this, and I didn’t need to have attended therapy to know that.

  “Ten?” I asked.

  Ten looked at me, and gripped my hand tight. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s do this.”

  Coach opened the door and a man in a suit strode in. He exuded confidence and honesty in equal measures. He seemed to be a settled in his own skin, pretty much how I was now. All we needed for Ten was to get him to that point as well.

  He extended a hand. “Layton Foxx,” he said, and smiled as he spoke. “I am so pleased to meet you Mr. Rowe, Mr. Madsen.”