Over Time

by Kyell Gold

  Go back to sitting on the bench or sharing time? My paws tighten. “If I win a championship, I want to be part of it.” Like Polecki said when I talked to him, he barely played the year he won his first ring, and this recent one meant so much more.

  “Of course. But would you rather start for ten years and not win, or start for seven and back up for three and win one?” He waves a paw. “It’s a hard question. Never mind. I’ll do some research and see who’s willing to pay what. For the moment, let’s assume you’re going to stay in Chevali, because they have the most invested in you. They may be willing to offer an extension this year, but more likely they’ll want to wait one more year and see.”

  “Gambling that I won’t do as well next year.”

  “With some teams, yeah. With Chevali, I think I would view it as being very cautious with their investment. Lots of teams throw millions at guys who were very good for a quarter of a season and then never get that good again. Rodriguez doesn’t like to play that game, which is why I like to get my players to work with him. I think you’ll command more money next year than you would this year, but I’ll still sniff around for you.”

  I’m going to thank him, but the den door bangs open then and Fisher stalks in. He stops and stares at the two of us, and then his gaze settles on Damian. “Did you send it in?”

  “Yep. Nine a.m. Monday.”

  “Huh.” Fisher’s tail snaps back and forth. “I have to go down there?”

  “Ideally, but you can do it on conference call if you want. These things go better in person.” Damian talks about ending Fisher’s career with the same poise with which he discussed planning mine. “You need help writing something else to say, or you just want to read the statement?”

  “Do I have to do this?”

  The room goes still. Now Damian’s voice is gentle. “It’s the best way.”

  “But is it the only way? Dammit, you promised me you could find me one more ring! You promised!”

  Damian looks at me and licks his lips. “Dev, do you want to give us a minute?”

  I get up, and Fisher says, “No. Both of you get out. I’ll write something.”

  Both Damian and I pause. We look at each other and then at Fisher. “You, ah, want to talk?” I ask.

  “Get out!” he yells, and then presses a paw to his head and stumbles toward the desk. Damian hops off it and scoots out of his way before the big tiger gets there, and joins me at the door.

  “If you need anything…” I say, hesitating with Damian already out and heading for the living room.

  Fisher slumps into his desk chair and waves a paw at me. “I’m fine. Just leave me alone.”

  I close the door slowly. I’m not thinking about the end of my career anymore. I just wish I could do something to help my friend.

  And Damian stops and rests a paw on my arm. “Listen, Dev,” he says. “Can you be around for Fisher’s retirement?”

  “I—” Lee pokes his head out of the kitchen just then. “Lee and I are going to Yerba to look for houses. I don’t know when we’re getting back.”

  “Tuesday morning,” Lee says. “It was a cheaper flight and I wanted to spend Monday there in case I need to do some legal stuff about the housing.”

  Damian considers that. “How early? We could do a Tuesday noon thing.”

  “I think we get in around ten.” Lee pulls out his phone. “We can move it to earlier if it’ll help Fisher.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “Anything to help.”

  9

  Reports (Lee)

  Damian seems like a good guy. At the very least, he’s a competent agent, which is going to be a great change for Dev. I ask Gena a little about him to pass the time while he’s in Fisher’s den with Dev, and she tells me he suggested Chevali for Fisher because he thought it’d be the best fit. “At the time, we thought, ‘Move to the desert, to a terrible team?’ I think they were 3-13 that year. But he told us they had a good organization.” She laughs. “Of course, he said that about Pelagia too, and they were terrible the whole time. But Fisher didn’t have a good coach, and the workouts they did, well, he ended up tweaking muscles almost every year he was there. He didn’t complain, just played when he could, but it showed.”

  “I remember, sort of.” I didn’t follow Fisher specifically, but I remember how Pelagia always seemed to have worse luck with injuries than the rest of the league.

  “I didn’t believe Chevali would be different, and uprooting the boys…” She sighs. “It almost worked out. One point.”

  “Would it have been more worthwhile if we’d won?”

  She looks down at the tablecloth. “Can you help me clear the table?”

  While we do that, she says, “I don’t want to say that coming to Chevali was all bad. The boys were frustrated, but they made friends here. I like it better than Pelagia. I know some people like the northwest, but it really does seem like it was grey or drizzling just about every day even though I know that isn’t true. And the other wives…” She shakes her head. “The older I get, the less I have in common with them. I thought when I was in Highbourne that we would all age together, but a lot of them, their husbands aren’t playing anymore, so they just fall out of the community. They go to picnics and Rotary with their neighbors, and their husbands only made hundreds of thousands instead of millions, so they resent those of us who made more. And a lot of the younger players coming in now aren’t getting married early like our generation did, so they don’t have wives.” She meets my eyes. “Or spouses. They have groups of college friends who don’t want to hang out with other people’s spouses.”

  “That’s frustrating. I thought I’d always be friends with my college friends, but…things happen.” I think about Brian, and about the less dramatic drifting apart of Salim and Allen, Daniel and Liz. Everybody went their separate ways; it wasn’t just me retreating into my football world, because I know Salim doesn’t talk to anyone outside his family, mostly, and Daniel broke up with Jake and moved to Anglia, and Allen is still living in Hilltown probably hitting on college students, and nobody’s heard from Liz in forever. Even Brian’s and my strained relationship was more than he or I had from anyone else once we’d graduated.

  “They do.” We move the last of the dishes to the kitchen, and Gena gathers up the tablecloth. “But it was in Pelagia that it first hit me. I didn’t know it was going to happen. If not for Felice, I don’t know what I’d have done.”

  I follow her to the laundry room and lean on the door as she throws the tablecloth into the washer. “For what it’s worth,” I say, “I know Dev and I still want to be your friends, retirement or no.”

  “I know.” She starts the machine and smiles at me. “I’m grateful for that, believe me.”

  “I think Angela will, too. Are they the only other family with two boys?”

  Gena nods slowly. “Angela’s already talked to me. I should call her and tell her about Fisher. Gerrard will want to know.” She rests her paw on the machine’s lid, feeling the vibrations, and looks down at it. “I hope she’s doing all right.”

  “Angela?”

  She takes a moment, thinking something over, and then she looks up. “Oh, she told me Gerrard is annoying in the off-season. Always stalking about the house, reviewing film, wanting to play football with the boys.”

  “Playing doesn’t sound bad.”

  “Hah.” She leads me into the living room, where we sit on the couch much as we did yesterday. “He wants them to run routes and he yells at them when they don’t do it properly. And they aren’t old enough to tell him to shut up and have fun.”

  Fisher opens the patio door and stalks in, tail lashing. “Where are they?” he demands when he gets to the living room.

  I feel again that tension of not knowing what’s going to happen next, of the potential for something bad to erupt. Gena stands and holds out a paw, then gestures to the den when he doesn’t move toward her. “Honey, we’ll get through this. You’ll be fine. It’s bad now, but—�
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  He ignores her, crossing the living room in long strides. “Can’t wait to have all these people out of the goddamn house,” he growls, and then disappears into the den. A moment later, we hear raised voices.

  Gena sits and looks awkwardly at me. “I’m sorry,” she says.

  “Don’t even worry.” I raise a paw, letting the tension drain out. “It’s a stressful time. Maybe Dev and I should leave when he’s done with Damian.”

  “Who’s done with Damian?” The tiger himself comes down the hall from the den and brushes his suit jacket down. Dev walks up behind him, towering over him. I know Dev’s taller than me, but it’s slightly odd to see him so much larger than another tiger.

  “We were just talking about Fisher.” Gena turns to greet both tigers.

  “You’re not quite done with me yet.” Damian walks over to sit in one of the chairs near the couch. “There’s still a lot an athlete can do after retirement. If you need advice on post-career management, I can help with that. He can still do endorsements and coaching or broadcasting if he wants. Take a year off, maybe two, see the cubs off to college, then think about the next phase. He and I talked about all that.”

  Gena perks up. “Did he say what he wants to do?”

  “Well, no.” Damian ducks his head. “He’s very focused on not being able to play anymore. But if you have those possibilities in mind, you can discuss them with him when this has worn off.”

  Dev comes over to stand behind the couch where I’m sitting, and rests his paw on the arm I have draped over the back. I smile up at him, but his return smile is distracted. “Thought about what you want to do when you retire in ten years?” I ask, jokingly.

  “Roll around in my seven championship rings,” he says, and everyone chuckles.

  Damian leaves a little while later. Dev and I talk with Gena a little longer, and then just as we stand to make our good-byes, a car screeches to a halt in front of the house. Gena folds her arms and glares at the door, and as soon as Bradley comes in, Junior trailing behind him, she reprimands her older son for his driving.

  “Sorry,” the teenager mutters, and makes a beeline for the stairs to his room.

  I say good-bye to Junior, and he says, “Mom, can I play one game of FBA with Lee?”

  Gena tells him it depends on whether we want to stay, so I say that of course we will. So we all go to the living room, where three of us talk about the movie Dev and I watched that morning and two of us play video basketball (me being the one doing both).

  When the first game’s over, Junior checks to see whether Gena’s paying attention, and then quickly starts another one with the same players. I don’t say anything, just keep going, both of us cross-legged on the floor in front of the couch.

  We’re in the second quarter of that game when Fisher emerges from the den. “I’m going to sit on the patio for a bit,” he says, and his eyes slide over me and Dev. “I’m looking forward to a nice quiet family dinner tonight. Dev, Lee…nice to see you.”

  “Yeah,” Dev says, raising a paw. “See you Tuesday.”

  But Fisher’s already on his way out, and slides the glass door closed without any indication that he heard.

  Dev and I look at each other. Junior pauses the game and glances back at his mom. “I guess we should go,” Dev says.

  I put down the controller. “Sorry. Can I get a raincheck on the game?”

  “Sure,” Junior pauses it and gets up to say good night.

  We say our good-byes and Gena wishes us luck in Yerba. And Dev and I stay quiet in the truck for the first half of the way home. Then he clears his throat. “Damian seemed cool with setting up, like, outreach stuff.”

  I perk my ears. “Oh?”

  “Yeah. So…what outreach stuff do you think I could do? I know you wanted me to do those spots for Equality Now, but you’re not working with them anymore.” He steers with one paw and rests the other on the dashboard. “Also, I was thinking…I’d like to do something that helps kids, you know?”

  “Uh-huh.” I think about that, and then think again about my friends from FLAG. “I guess I could reach out to Forester, see if maybe you could do something with them.”

  “Like what?”

  “Ah, I dunno.” I watch the highway roll by as we go up to our exit. “Maybe just come and talk to the team? It’d be good for Forester too. They still get mentioned now and then as the place the gay guy got beaten up.”

  Dev grimaces even though I didn’t mention Brian by name. “Maybe Damian can talk to them. I trust him a lot more than Ogleby already.”

  “Good idea.” I smile. “And I won’t bug you to do more than he advises you to.”

  “Does this count as figuring out relationship stuff?” He turns toward me and raises an eyebrow.

  I pat his thigh and leave my paw there. “Absolutely.”

  Part III

  Part 2

  10

  Homes (Lee)

  The whole way to Yerba, Dev complains about the flight not being first class. I booked it in coach out of habit, and his knees are right up against the seat in front of him when the flight attendants bring the drink carts through with their repeated warnings of, “Please clear your tails from the aisle.” When they pass, he can stretch his legs out, but there’s always someone walking up and down, and he has to move his feet or they trip over them.

  “You should be more flexible, like me,” I tell him, sitting in the middle, even though the cougar in front of me has his tail hanging down and constantly flicking back and forth around my legs. At least I’m keeping my own tail curled under the seat like a polite passenger.

  “It’s not about flexibility, it’s about size,” he grumbles.

  I don’t say anything until he looks at me, and then I raise an eyebrow and grin. He plays back his words in his head and then rolls his eyes. “Foxes,” he growls.

  “See, this is what you have to get used to when you don’t have a private jet to fly you everywhere. Anyway, it’s only a two-hour flight. When I was working for the Dragons, I flew minimum three hours every time, coming down to see you or going out to the East Coast for work.”

  “Don’t know how you managed it.” He opens up the in-flight magazine and tries to read again, just as someone else nearly trips over his feet.

  “Lots of Neutra-Scent,” I tell him, and take one of the tissues out, because even though the newer planes have pretty good air circulation, I can still smell everyone crammed into the seats around me and it’s giving me a headache.

  We land and rent a car, and with him navigating, I find the hotel with only a little trouble. The room is nice, though the view isn’t as nice as the last time I stayed here: it looks out onto the parking lot.

  “Bed’s firm enough.” Dev jumps onto it and sprawls there. “Feels good to stretch my legs.”

  “I got a full size car.” I check my phone again. “You think I should call Gena?”

  “If you want, but she’s probably busy with her friend showing up today and all.” He stares at the ceiling.

  “Yeah, I know.” I put the phone into my pocket and sit on the bed. He doesn’t move as I rest my paw on his stomach. “Thinking a lot about you and how your career’s going to end. I hope it won’t be like that.”

  “Not if I can help it.” His other paw covers mine.

  “Also wondering if Fisher’s going to be charged with a crime.”

  “All right.” Dev squeezes my paw. “Look, we’re here to find you a place to live, so if you want to talk about Fisher some more, you’ve got five minutes. Then we’re going to go out, see some places, go to one of those nice lunch spots you found, and we’re going to have a good day.”

  I smile at him and turn around, lying down and pinning his arm to the bed. “Fair enough. What if I want to talk about our relationship?”

  “We can do that over lunch.” He draws his paw along my tail. “Anything else?”

  I sigh and nestle against him. “How much time do we have left?”


  “Hmm. Four and a half minutes.”

  “Okay.” I rest my muzzle against his shoulder and exhale.

  We rest there for a little longer than four and a half minutes, but in the end his stomach growls, and I laugh and pat it and then he rolls on top of me and kisses me, holding my cheek ruffs in his paws. “You ready to go out?”

  “Uh-huh.” I stroke claws down his sides. “Sounds like you’re good and hungry.”

  “Maybe we’ll hit the lunch places first.” He purrs against my chest.

  We do, checking out the sushi place that Peter Emmanuel took me to for my interview with the Whalers. I don’t take Dev to the back room, but the sushi is just as delicious in the front near the windows. The only problem is that Dev thinks the pieces are really tiny, so he orders about six rolls, gets through four of them, and then stares down at the plate. “How can I be full already?”

  I laugh. “It’s a lot of rice. Also you’re not working out so much.”

  He frowns and growls. “Can we take this with us? It’s really good.”

  I swish my tail, smiling because I’m glad he likes it as much as I do. “We can stop back at the hotel to put it in the room fridge.”

  So there’s only time to see three of the apartments on my list before the rental offices close for the day. After that I suggest we stop at a Starbucks to have a drink.

  “I thought you hated Starbucks.” Dev squints up at the sign as we go in.

  “Their tea is all right,” I say, holding the door for him.

  I get iced tea and he gets coffee, and we look at the info for the three places, comparing them. None of them really jumps out at either of us. “Maybe you should buy a condo. It’s a better investment.”