Over Time

by Kyell Gold

  “Shit.” I turn to Lee’s shining eyes. “Let me call Vince and find out what’s going on.”

  He rests a paw on my stomach as I make the call.

  Vince is a weasel, but unlike Ogleby, he’s mastered the art of harnessing his energy. His words come in short, economical bursts, and then he gets you off the phone. So when I tell him I haven’t seen what Gregory did and in fact didn’t even know about it, he says, “Hang on,” and ten seconds later, he’s reading it.

  “I’m proud to have reached a settlement that reinforces the value of traditional families and the good work done by the Christians of Families United. I look forward to continuing to support them against all the intolerant people who wish to encumber their freedom of expression in this country.” He stops. “He doesn’t mention you directly, and this wasn’t flagged by any sports media yet. One of my interns came up with it because of a match on the last name. You know what this lawsuit was about?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “A guy from AltSports already texted to ask me for a comment.”

  “I’d advise ‘no comment,’ of course, but it’s up to you. Just let me know if anything’s going to happen.”

  “Fuck,” I say. “No, I’ll send him a ‘no comment.’ Just…that fucking…”

  “Also,” Vince says, “Let me know if you’re going to assault him.”

  “No, no.” I press my other paw to my eyes. “I might call—”

  “I was kidding. Okay, Dev, you’ve got my number if you need anything, right?”

  “Yeah.” We hang up, and I turn to my fox. “Gregory made a public statement—I guess the Vince King case came to a settlement. He talked about how great it was to be working with Families United.” My paws are squeezed into fists.

  “Did he mention your name?”

  “No.” I tell him about Vince’s intern and the message from the AltSports guy.

  Before I can go on to tell him Vince’s advice, he says, “I think you’re right about the ‘no comment’ route. If he didn’t mention you personally, then you don’t have to wade into the fight.”

  “Really?” I push my nose up against his. “You don’t want me to get up on a big stage and yell about him?”

  He kisses me. “I want you to speak out and encourage gay kids. And this is the kind of thing you don’t need to get involved in.”

  “What if people find out my brother is in league with those assholes?”

  “Remember Ogleby? If you make a big public statement, people will find out. Right now it’s just a minor press release about an otherwise unremarkable case. Only people following the case or looking for information about people named ‘Miski’ will find it.”

  I know he’s right, but I think about Gregory saying those words all smug—I can hear his voice—and when I don’t say anything, people assuming I must have known about it, or I condone it. I think about that kangaroo rat kid hearing my brother say that people who speak out against homophobic assholes are intolerant, and wondering what I really stand for. I wonder what Polecki would say about it, and that actually calms me a little. I can ask him tonight.

  “It’s just different,” I growl to Lee, “when you know someone who’d be disappointed if he heard your brother say that, and you didn’t respond at all.”

  “Polecki?” he guesses.

  “Him I can talk to. No, I mean that kangaroo rat I met at the airport.” I haven’t actually told Lee the whole story. “He said his dad kicked him out when the kid came out, but they bonded over football and uh…the kid got to go back home and the dad went with him to the airport.”

  “That’s great.” He slides his arms around me and hugs me. “I’m proud of you. Have I said that lately?”

  “Mmm.” It feels good, but doesn’t stop my worrying. “But if that kid doesn’t see me come back…”

  “Tiger,” Lee says, and rubs his muzzle against mine. “Think about why Gregory’s doing this. Either it was his idea, or it was Families United’s idea. If it was his, then he’s trying to needle you, to draw you into a public confrontation. If it was their idea, then they’re trying to draw attention to the division in your family. Either way, if you respond publicly, it’s just playing into their paws.”

  He’s right, I know he’s right, but I can’t just do nothing. Can I?

  “Tiger.”

  I turn toward him and find his eyes creased with concern, but his muzzle slightly curved into a smile. “Ow.”

  “Oh, shit.” I retract my claws where they’re pressing into his back. “Sorry!”

  “It’s okay. I know it’s emotional, I’ve been there.”

  “Yeah.” I nuzzle him. “And you got through it with your mom. But Gregory’s not…I mean, he’s…” I take my paws away from my fox because my claws are threatening to come out again.

  “Why don’t you book a trip home to talk to your parents? And maybe we can go by Hilltown if you’re still interested in talking to Forester about doing something with them.”

  “Sure,” I say, and feel a little better. Having a plan, a play I can follow, makes everything easier. “I’m going to check into tickets back from Chevali this week. We fly back, what, Tuesday?”

  “Yeah,” he says, and then I’m climbing out of bed even though he scrabbles at me with a paw trying to keep me there.

  “Can I use your laptop?”

  He sighs and flops down. “Sure.”

  I turn it on. “What’s your login again?”

  He tells me, then pulls the blankets up around his shoulders. I log in and find the browser, and dick around for a bit before I say, “Fox?”

  Nothing. Pretty sure he’s not asleep, though. I clear my throat. “Fox?”

  “Mrrf.”

  “What site do you use for tickets?”

  He turns his head. “Fastflight.com,” he mumbles.

  I find it. “Do you have a log in for it?”

  There’s a moment of silence, and then he gives a long, exaggerated sigh and rolls out of bed. “I can do it,” I protest, but he walks over to the desk, gives me a kiss, and logs in to the site.

  I wrap an arm around his waist and nuzzle his chest. “Thanks.”

  “When do you want to go?” He types in Chevali to Hilltown.

  “I can do this.” I push him back toward the bed, getting my paws on his bare rear as I do. “Go.”

  “It’s okay,” he says, but then I push him harder and he lands sprawled on the bed.

  “Oh,” he says, staying there, “Tiger and bed working together to keep a fox down.” And he arches his tail a little, the white tip waving back and forth over that rear.

  “Mmm,” I say. If I were less focused, or if we hadn’t just fucked last night, I’d jump on him, but right now I want to get that ticket bought. Then I can tell Mom and Dad I’m coming home and I can talk to them about Gregory.

  It takes me a while to find the right flights, and then I have to go find my credit card to make the purchase. While I’m doing that, Lee’s phone rings, and he gives another tired, exasperated sigh and grabs it.

  As soon as he sees the number, he clears his throat. “Hi, Peter,” he says. “No, no, just talking about breakfast. Sure. Uh-huh. Yeah, noon is fine. We have a couple places to look at. Should I bring Dev? Right. Yeah, okay, I can see that. Okay, just send me the name of the place and I can find it.”

  He puts the phone down. His eyes gleam in the shadowy darkness as he looks in my direction. “Well,” he says, “I guess we’re up.”

  “I got tickets,” I say. “Leaving Thursday, coming back Saturday. I got you one, too. Um. You don’t have to use it.”

  “I don’t mind going with you.” He sits on the edge of the bed. “But ask me, next time.”

  “Yeah, I know. I just want you with me is all.”

  “I’m glad.” He pads over and puts his arms around me. I lean into him from the desk chair, my muzzle against his chest. “It’s going to be all right, tiger. Nobody’s going to notice and you’ll work it out with the family.”

/>   “I should get back to that AltSports guy,” I mutter, catching sight of my phone.

  “After we shower.” He kisses my ears. “Then we have time to look at apartments for a couple hours until I meet Peter and Jocko for lunch. You’re not invited. Tampering and all—you can’t meet with another team’s officials.”

  “I know I’m not supposed to discuss football with them. Does that mean I can’t meet them for lunch, too?”

  “Definitely. Sorry. Hope you can occupy yourself for a couple hours.”

  But all during the shower, I’m thinking about Gregory still. That’d be more of a problem if the shower were big enough for two, but alas, I’m showering alone. When I get out, Lee gropes me and then hurries in himself. I let the pleasant feelings of the grope fade and then I call my parents.

  Mom answers and I tell her quickly that I’ve booked a flight to come back up there. “Oh,” she says, “of course we will love to see you.”

  “And I want to see Gregory, too.” I manage not to growl as I say it.

  “Did you call him?”

  “I’m not going to call him.”

  Mom sighs. “Your father will insist—”

  “He made a public statement this morning, Mom. After settling that case, he said—” Dammit, I can’t remember everything Vince said. “Something about a victory for traditional families being oppressed by the forces of intolerance.” She doesn’t say anything, and I realize that maybe the rhetoric of gay rights hasn’t made it up to Lake Handerson. “Basically he was saying that gay people are trying to oppress straight people by insisting that they have basic civil rights.”

  “I’m sure it was nothing like that.”

  “Mom, I heard it.”

  “You heard him speak those words?”

  “No, I mean, my team’s press liaison read the statement to me. I don’t know if it was on TV anywhere. I don’t think it was that important.” Anger makes me toss in that last snide remark.

  “If it was not important then why do you need to fly here to talk to him?”

  It’s my turn to sigh, though there’s a lot of growl in it. “Because he took the case in the first place. Because he was trying to make it more important with that statement. It’s a shot at me, Mom, he’s trying to get me to respond because he’s angry that, I dunno, I’m happy or something.”

  “I’m sure he is not angry at your success.” Now she sounds scolding.

  That’s exactly what he’s angry about, I think, plus some other stuff, maybe issues around me being gay that took a while to boil over. “We’ll see. Just—can you call him and ask him to come over? Because if I call him, I’ll lose my temper and yell and then he’ll never come.”

  “You should call.”

  “Did you hear the last conversation we had? This is worse, now. If I call, I’ll end up calling him a bigot and an a—” I catch the profanity. “And worse.”

  “Then you should control yourself.”

  “How is this my issue?” I’m starting to raise my voice. “He’s the one who took that case! He’s the one who made a completely unnecessary statement—”

  “Devlin.” She cuts me off. “Ever since high school, you and Gregory have taken every opportunity to be offended at each other. We hoped that would end when you both graduated college, but perhaps it only ended because you live apart.”

  I’m so sure I’m right that I can’t say anything for a minute. Finally I compose myself enough to hide the seething. “All right, Mom. Just call him, please?”

  “No.” She’s firm. “You say you will consider giving him money for Alexi if he asks directly. How can you expect him to do that if you will not ask him directly when you want something?”

  I know she makes sense, but I also know I’m going to have difficulty controlling myself if I do talk to him. “Fine,” I say, “I’ll call him. But if we start yelling at each other…”

  “If you don’t start yelling, then there will be no yelling.”

  “He starts things too,” I point out.

  “Gregory says things to make you lose your temper. So don’t lose your temper.”

  “You say it like it’s so easy.” I grit my teeth. “Maybe I’ll call him tomorrow.”

  “Sunday he goes to church in the morning, so don’t call early. And they may be going to the hospital soon. Alexi’s tests require an overnight stay, so they have been going in on Saturdays because they both want to stay with him.”

  “So I should call him now.”

  “Or you could call him in the hospital.”

  “I’ll call him now. Thanks, Mom.”

  I hang up and stalk back and forth in the hotel room as the sound of the shower is replaced with the loud whirr of fur dryers. They’re taking Gregory’s side again. I should’ve just booked a ticket to Gateway and gone to his house directly, had it out without our parents being around. It’s going to be all of them against me again, and they’ll guilt me into giving him the money for Alexi.

  I really don't want to call him, but I also don’t want it hanging over my head the rest of the weekend. I’ve got probably ten minutes before Lee’s fur is dry. So I pull up Gregory’s number and call.

  My hope that he won’t answer is dashed in two and a half rings. “Hi, Dev. What can I do for you?” he purrs.

  “I’m coming to Mom and Dad’s place next weekend. I want to talk to you.”

  “We’re talking now.” He knows I’ve seen the statement, or he’s guessing. He’s too smug to not know.

  “Nose to nose.” I take a breath. “Saturday or Sunday, whichever works better for you.”

  “Can you tell me what this is about? Even a lawyer defending a murderer gets to prepare his case.”

  “Well, you’d know, wouldn’t you?”

  “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

  I take another breath. “It’s about the statement you made at the settlement of that case you were working. Defending murderers, by the way.”

  “Mmm, a settlement specifically excludes any admission of guilt or wrongdoing. It’s simply a considerate gesture on the part of my client to avoid extending this painful experience for the family.”

  “Wow,” I say. “I mean, I should have known that becoming a lawyer would accentuate the worst parts of you, but somehow I’m still surprised.”

  “And likewise for the brutal game of football.” A little snarl creeps into his voice. “I shouldn’t be surprised at how well you’re doing in it, and yet I still am. Of course, it helps when you make yourself a celebrity.”

  A hearty “fuck you” builds in my chest, but I remember Mom’s words. “Yeah, it’s too bad you couldn’t make yourself a celebrity the same way.”

  That gets to him. His voice chills. “So what about this statement? It’s too late to retract it. What exactly do you want to talk about?”

  “I just want to understand why you said it. And I want you to promise you won’t do it again.”

  He laughs, sharp and bitter. “Of course you do. And why would I promise that? You think family comes before God? You think Dad will take your perverted side in this argument?”

  “God hasn’t done your cub any favors, has he?”

  It slips out, mean and off-topic, but he’s so fucking smug and I can see the smile I want to smack off his face disappear as I say it. “That is not relevant to this discussion.”

  “It could be. He’s my nephew. Maybe I want to help him.”

  “Oh. Oh, now I understand. You want to bribe me to be silent, to keep your image all pure. You’re using my son’s problems as leverage against me.”

  “What?”

  “This is low and disgusting, even for you. Don’t bother. I don’t want your homosexual money.”

  I can’t make words get past my throat. Gregory goes on. “If Mom and Dad want me to come talk to you, then I will for their sake. But if they don’t want anything more to do with you after hearing this conversation, then that’s not on me.”

  “You just better f
ucking hope that a week is enough time for me to cool down,” I say. And then the fur dryer stops, so I hang up the phone in the middle of his reply. Wow. Our relationship is as bad as ever. He just brings out the worst in me and I can’t stop myself from being a dick. It makes me angry and kind of sick at myself.

  Lee comes over to me with his fur all puffy from the dryer. I respond to his questioning look with a kiss on his damp ears, then let him get dressed. He stays quiet, sensing my mood, and then when he’s got a shirt and pants on, pulls out his map.

  My temper subsides and my thoughts crystallize as he’s talking about where to go for the apartment search. “No,” I say as he mentions one neighborhood.

  “Uh.” He looks down at his paper. “I thought you liked this one.”

  “I mean, no, let’s not look at apartments. I’m going to buy you a house.”

  His ears go askew and his newly-dry fur fluffs up around the collar. “Don’t we have to…I mean, that’s a big thing.”

  “It’s an investment. Your dad said it’d be good to do, right?”

  “Well…” He puts the paper down and reaches up to scratch behind an ear. “What’s this about, tiger? You haven’t been thinking about investments all morning.”

  The actual logic behind my decision sounds petty and childish, so I go with something a little more adult. “It just doesn’t make sense. You’re going to be a lot more stable in this job than I am in mine, so why would you pay rent when you could be living in an investment?”

  “Of your money. Wouldn’t I still be paying you rent?”

  “We could work that out.” I flick my tail. “Anyway, if we’re together, it’s our investment, right?”

  He breathes in and then nods. “If.”

  “I have faith,” I say.

  He doesn’t respond, just gets that look that means he’s turning things over in his head. “You talked to your parents just now?” I nod. “And…?”

  So I tell him about the call with Gregory, and he winces. “Ah, I’m sorry he was a dick about it.”