Making It

by Christine d'Abo

  Slopping another gob of crack fill onto the plaster, Eli’s emotions rolled from awe to anger. Devan had a child and wanted a divorce. Had Stephan not gotten in the way, Eli would have known, and maybe things would have been different. Maybe he would have come back to Toronto, begged Devan for forgiveness. Once upon a time, he’d had dreams about doing that very thing. But the longer he’d stayed out of Toronto, the harder it’d been to figure out a way to come home and make his relationship with Devan right again.

  A glob of crack fill fell onto the drop cloth he’d spread on the mattress, dragging a growl from him. He’d done basic construction for years; a little home repair shouldn’t present this much of a challenge. His mom’s tenants hadn’t been particularly rough on the building, but they hadn’t taken great care either. Not surprising, given the age of the place. The electrical, the appliances, and especially the paint on the walls were past their prime and needed to be updated. He needed to, bit by bit, cover up and replace the memories of his childhood home.

  It would give Eli something to do while he waited to text Devan.

  His cell phone rang as another glob of crack fill fell to the drop cloth. He fished it out of his back pocket and tucked it under his chin. “Hello?”

  “Are you ready to come back yet?” Stephan’s voice crackled through the line. “Because this little vacation of yours is a pain in my ass.”

  Rage that was normally reserved for the ring flashed through him. “You asshole.”

  “Nice to see that you haven’t resolved your anger issues while you were away.”

  “I saw Devan.”

  “Ah.” Instead of the fear Eli had expected to hear from his manager, all he got was a sigh. “I’m not going to apologize for what I did.”

  “You kept him from me.” Kept me from knowing that I might have a son.

  “No, I kept you from destroying your career. Can you imagine what the press would have done had they found out you were having issues with a man? Someone you were romantically involved with? You wouldn’t be in a position to complain, because you’d have had no career and I would have dropped your ass three years ago.”

  “You had no right—”

  “I had every right.” Stephan’s voice felt like a gun blast in his ear. “I invested in you. And I was protecting that investment.”

  Eli swallowed hard, any response stuck tight in his throat.

  “Now, if you’re done having your little temper tantrum, I need to know the status of your vacation.”

  He shouldn’t have felt guilty for needing to take time to be with his mom, but Stephan apparently knew which buttons to hit. “I’m stopping by the nursing home later today to check on Mom. The doctor said she’s still not in great shape for visitors, but I’m going.”

  “So you’re not planning on leaving Toronto anytime soon. Good.”

  Shit. “Why?”

  “Caulfield’s team wants another run at you.”

  “No way.” God, the dude got one lucky shot off and he thought he was king of the world. “Why the hell would I agree?”

  “The ratings were some of the highest they’ve seen for a non-title fight. It’s good PR for everyone.”

  Caulfield was notorious for being a dirty fighter. The crowds loved everything he did and the drama that he brought to the match. Eli wasn’t as flashy, which brought about his own following, the people who loved his deadly precision. He didn’t need the flash when he had the substance.

  Eli got down from the bed and dropped the trowel to the floor. “You know how I felt about the last fight. No fucking way I’m getting in the cage with him again.”

  Stephan sighed. “Yeah, that’s not going to work. See, when the organization found out you were in Toronto, they gave me a call. Seems they have another hurt fighter who was supposed to fight Caulfield on December tenth at the Air Canada Centre. It’s not the main card, but pretty damn close. You’ll be at the top of the undercard round.”

  It was obvious what Stephan was saying—sick mother or no, this was too good an opportunity to pass up. “I haven’t seriously trained in months.”

  “Come on, I know you. You’ll be fine.” Stephan chuckled. “I don’t need you to agree, but I don’t like to overrule you. Say yes so I can pull the trigger on this. The money and exposure are exactly what you need. You know I wouldn’t push you into this if I didn’t think the risk was worth the reward. It’s huge. Your chance to not only move up the ladder, but really get noticed by some important people.”

  If there was a way he could go back and talk his younger self out of signing with Stephan, he absolutely would. While Stephan had done wonders for his career, while Stephan had been there for Eli when life felt insurmountable, there were equally too many times when Stephan had forced his hand. Fuck it. It was only one fight, he would still be in Toronto for his mom and Devan if they needed him. “Make the call.”

  “You’re a fucking rock star. I’ll fill you in on the details when I get them. Three weeks, dude. Get ready.”

  By the time Stephan hung up, Eli had lost all desire to do any more work. God, he would need to start training now if he wasn’t going to get himself killed. He could use Ringside for training, stay close, and possibly bring some fans in to help raise the gym’s visibility.

  Maybe Devan and Matthew would come watch.

  He thumbed the screen of his phone, bringing it back to life. With a quick swipe, he brought up Devan’s number. What he wouldn’t give to call him, hear his voice for a few seconds. That would be going against their agreement, and if he wanted any chance of things to work out, then Eli knew he had to play by the rules. Pressing the text option, he typed a quick message.

  It’s me. How is tomorrow night looking?

  If Devan was with a patient, then his response could be a few minutes. He remembered getting annoyed when they’d first started dating. They’d be in the middle of a text conversation, Eli would ask him a question, and then nothing. Devan would always laugh after. “What, do you want my phone to be covered in blood? Gross.” Given how Eli felt about blood, it wasn’t something he ever wanted to see outside of a match.

  Eli went to the kitchen and made himself a protein shake. He’d nearly finished it when his phone buzzed.

  My sitter said she can keep M for an extra few hours. I’ll need to be home by seven.

  For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Eli smiled.

  I’ll pick you up at 5:30. Supper @ 6.

  Shit, he was actually going to do this. Which meant he needed to book a reservation somewhere. Devan had always been the one to manage their dinner arrangements when they’d been together. He’d need to get some help if he didn’t want to screw this up. There was one person he knew could help him out. Dialing Ringside, he fiddled with his glass as he waited for an answer.

  “Ringside Gym. Nolan speaking.”

  “Hey, it’s Eli.” He cleared his throat, shocked at how nervous he suddenly was. “I need your help.”

  Eli stood in front of the welcome desk at the nursing home, his hands shoved deep into his jeans pockets, his present for his mom tucked under his arm, feeling very much like a kid called to the principal’s office. He’d prayed the excitement he’d felt from talking to Nolan, the plans he’d made for seeing Devan, would get him through the next hour or so. And then he’d pulled into the parking lot, his gaze landing on the low sloping roof of the nursing home, and every bit of bliss he’d been riding evaporated.

  The nurse behind the desk appeared to be many years younger than himself, but the scowl on her face was well practiced. “The doctor had mentioned that you were coming to visit. We’d expected you a few days ago.” She held his gaze in such a way that would have made him tap out if he were in the cage.

  “Yeah, sorry about that. I thought she needed some more time to get better before I subjected her to me.”

  “Of course.” Which was clearly nurse-speak for The only one who needed more time was you, asshole. Or something like that. “We’
ve had to move her to a room in the dementia wing. Come with me and I’ll buzz you in.”

  There was a smell to the nursing home that always made the hair on his arms stand up. It wasn’t offensive, but it wasn’t a natural smell either. Cleaning solution, food, and something else that he’d never been able to identify, mixed together and washed over him as he docilely followed the nurse.

  “Her condition has worsened since the last time you were here. The doctors aren’t sure, but she might have had another mini stroke. But today has been a pretty good day.” She swiped her badge and the double doors swung open. “There’s a code above the pin pad that you’ll need to type in to get out. Your mom is down the hall, third room from the window.”

  It broke his heart every time they told him about the code. His mom had always been a smart woman with keen eyes. Knowing that she couldn’t get out with the information shown in plain sight, was almost too much to believe. “Thanks.”

  Eli kept his eyes fixed on the end of the hall, not wanting to catch a glimpse of the other patients in the ward. He caught random bits of sounds from televisions and radios as he walked. Game shows seemed to be the preference, something that would have normally driven his mom nuts.

  Bad choice of words, asshole.

  He stopped in front of his mother’s room, taking a quick look at the colorful name tag they’d put up. Rhonda’s Room. It was covered with flower stickers: roses and tulips, his mom’s favorite. Eli closed his eyes for a moment, took a breath, and knocked on the door.

  “Hello?” His mom’s voice was the same as always.

  Eli poked his head around the door, his gaze landing on the too-frail form of his mom sitting in her chair in front of the television. “Hey.”

  His mom broke out into a smile. “Hi there. Come in, come in. Take my chair.”

  He had to move fast to stop her from getting up. “Nope, that’s your spot. I can sit on the bed.” Guiding her back into her seat, he sat as close to her as possible. “How are you feeling?”

  She looked at him, suddenly frowning. “You’re not a doctor.”

  His throat tightened. “No. I’m Eli.”

  She whispered his name over and over, before breaking out into another grin. “Yes, you’re Eli. My son. I know you.”

  He leaned over and kissed her gently on the cheek. “You look good. Have you been flirting with the doctors again? Do I need to warn them off?”

  She chuckled as she patted his hand. “I’m quite the catch.”

  Rhonda McGovern was still beautiful. Her brown hair was pulled back into a bun, no doubt done by one of the caretakers. And while there wasn’t the same spark of excitement in her eyes, she seemed at ease.

  At least for the moment.

  “I brought you something.” He retrieved the cylinder from the bed where he’d placed it. “A little something for your room.”

  The poster had been produced at Stephan’s insistence, promo that they’d used for his fight with Caulfield that summer. Eli had been oiled up and made to wear a sleeveless hoodie that showed off more muscle than it hid.

  His mom took the poster, clucking her tongue. “Well, isn’t this a handsome fella.”

  “It’s me, Mom.”

  She looked at him, her smile back once more. “So it is.”

  The doctor had told him on the phone that pictures were a good way to help her keep her memories. The stroke had done serious damage, but every little bit they did helped her. “Can I put it up?”

  “Yes.” She nodded and looked around. “How about by the window? I always like the sun.”

  Eli found some tape and put the poster up. “I have an idea.” He’d brought a marker with him, but wasn’t sure how she’d react. “Can I put my name on this? So you’ll remember that it’s a picture of me?”

  His mom’s attention had drifted back to the television, and she was now engrossed in The Price Is Right. The little parting of the clouds of her mind had vanished, leaving Eli alone. Ignoring the burning in the back of his throat, he took the marker and wrote in clear block letters in a white spot by his face on the poster.

  Eli McGovern. My son.

  He wanted nothing more than to leave. There was no point in talking to her now; any conversations they’d have would quickly be forgotten. Turning, he took a step toward the door before changing course to sit back down on the bed beside her.

  He was all she had in the world. It didn’t matter that she didn’t remember him, or that he hadn’t been there for her as much as he should have. Eli was here now, and he’d be damned if he’d leave her alone.

  There’d been so much he’d left behind when he’d moved to Montreal. While he’d ensured his mom was cared for, that didn’t take away from the fact that she’d needed him as well. He’d been so busy, so focused on himself, that he’d brushed aside his duties as a son.

  And a husband.

  “Oh, Plinko!” His mom clapped her hands and looked at him. “Hello.”

  “Hello.” The word came out little more than a choke.

  He took her hand and watched the show.

  Devan had brought a change of clothing with him to work, which immediately set the girls off. He never bothered with anything other than his uniform unless he was going on a date. Seeing as how that hadn’t happened in, well, three years, they were curious to know who the lucky guy was.

  The last thing he wanted was to tell them that he was going out on a sort-of date with Eli. When Eli had left Devan, he’d become deadbeat husband number one in their eyes. Over the years, they’d offered more than a bit of advice on how to make the divorce happen. But going out with Eli wasn’t exactly something he could keep from them either. If he could sneak out, give a friendly wave on his way past, he’d at least be able to delay the inevitable grilling until tomorrow.

  The moment he slipped on his coat, Karen walked into the lunchroom. She took one look at him and grinned. “So who is it? New guy? Blind date? Old lover?”

  Devan groaned. “I so don’t want to tell you.”

  Karen raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, so you have to tell me now. Because you suck at secrets.”

  God, sometimes he hated that everyone knew him so well. “Fine, but you have to promise me not to let anyone else know.”

  She laughed. “Right. How about I promise to wait until you leave?”

  “Fair enough. I’m going out with Eli.”

  “You’re what?” Her voice went high enough there was no doubt everyone in the building had heard her. “That bastard finally showed his face again, after all this time, and you’re going on a date with him? Are you insane?”

  Yes, it was most likely that he was. “It’s not like that. He came to town to help a friend, and I chased him down. Apparently, his manager hadn’t been passing on my messages, or something. He said he’d sign the divorce papers, and offered to take me out as an apology. That’s it. Nothing more than him trying to suck up and grovel.”

  That was at least what Devan had been telling himself Eli would do since the moment he’d closed the door to his apartment. He’d been emotionally crushed for years, felt as though he were carrying a heavy weight on his shoulders that he’d never get rid of. Despite his life with Matthew, there was a piece missing, and Devan knew it had to do with Eli.

  Was this a colossal mistake? Probably.

  He would know by the end of dinner.

  Karen shook her head. “You better get those papers signed fast. He doesn’t deserve five minutes of your time. Not after what he did to you.”

  “I know.” The problem was, as angry as Devan was, he knew there was a part of him that was still in love with Eli. Always would be. “But I think we both need this dinner. For closure, if nothing else.”

  Karen pulled him in for a hug. “You have my number. If you need me to do anything, or if you need to talk after, call me.”

  “Thanks, hon. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

  Grabbing his bag, he plastered a smile on his face that he didn’t quite feel and headed
outside. Eli was leaning against a car, hands in his jeans pockets, waiting for him. His bald head looked freshly shaved, unlike his face, which had a day’s worth of scruff on it. The black leather jacket was stretched tight across his muscular arms and chest. As always, Devan couldn’t believe that this beautiful man had been remotely interested in him. Devan was thin and as far from an athlete as one could get. Aware of the cold wind, he screwed up his courage and headed over.

  “Hey.” Devan shifted his duffel bag to his other shoulder. “I wasn’t sure where we were going, so I hope I’m dressed okay.”

  Eli let his gaze drift down Devan’s body, making him self-conscious. “Handsome as ever.” He moved from the car and opened the door. “We’re not going too far.”

  This was his last chance to back out. He had the divorce papers in his bag, and he knew that if he said no, Eli would sign them and Devan would never have to see him again. Instead, he squeezed the strap of his bag and got into the passenger seat.

  Eli was thankful Nolan had suggested the Pear Tree as a place to eat. It was fancy enough to have great atmosphere and food, but relaxed enough that he didn’t feel out of place. Eli’s size alone tended to turn heads. Being six feet, seven inches tall was one thing, but adding his bulk tended to cause people to stare. Or flee in the opposite direction.

  The hostess had given them a booth in the back corner of the restaurant, ensuring that they’d have a certain amount of privacy. Devan looked around once they’d been seated, and Eli was smart enough to realize he was avoiding eye contact.

  Could he blame him?

  Clearing his throat, Eli opened the menu. “I’ve never eaten here, but Nolan assured me that the food is good.”

  Devan shifted in his seat. “I haven’t been here either. Never heard of it. I’m sure it’s fine.”

  An awkward silence stretched on for far longer than Eli would have liked. “What’s steak fritz?”

  Devan snorted, his lips quivering. “You mean steak frites?”

  “Yeah, that.”

  “Steak in a sauce and fries. That’s all.”