Swim Coach: A Novel

by Sam E. Kraemer

  I was leaning back on my elbows on Andre's bed. He was trying to pack, and he was being a big old girl about it. It was Friday, and it had been quite a week. We were going to Unionville to put up Momma’s Christmas lights and for Andre to meet the woman herself. Needless to say, I was excited. "It's fucking Unionville. You’ve lived there, for Christ's sake," I told him as he brought out clothes, only to return them to the closet.

  "I'm meeting my first boyfriend's mother, officially. I remember you being a little concerned when we were going to LA," he called from inside the closet.

  "Hey, we weren't boyfriends when I went to meet your parents. You sprung your diabolical plan for me after we were already there. It wasn't like I had any warning at all. At least you had a week," I teased, loving the look of panic on his face.

  The week had actually been great. I hadn't spent the night at Andre's apartment again, but I'd spent time there. We'd gone out for dinner Wednesday night with Brad, Nick, Amanda, and Bryana. I'd had a session with Eve that afternoon, and we'd covered some ground. I'd confessed to her about Kelvin, and when she asked me how it felt to confront him, I couldn't articulate properly how much relief I felt.

  "I felt like a weight had been lifted from my chest. I know it probably wasn't the right way to do it, but when he bullied me again and then approached me from behind, I just couldn't take it," I confessed.

  "So, it felt good to stick up for yourself?"

  "It did, but I wish it hadn't ended with him grabbing me. I was prepared to walk away, Eve. I didn't have intentions of hurting him physically, but he still thought I was that weak guy he knew back in high school."

  "Colton, that's still progress. You don't want to lash out, but there are times when you must defend yourself. I'm proud you didn't consider violence as a first option. That's growth." I had to take it as a positive. It pushed the "list" discussion off until Saturday, but I e-mailed it to her anyway so she would be ready to talk when it was time.

  "I've only met your mother at your swim meets back in school. She was always very nice, but I don't know how she's going to feel about you bringing me home and then telling her I’m your boyfriend," he lamented.

  "Dre, she already knows you're my boyfriend. That's why she wants to meet you. She's going to love you as much as me, okay? Hurry up. We're picking up Bryana and Amanda in half an hour," I reminded.

  He'd offered them a ride home, and when I'd mentioned it to Brad about us going to Unionville, he asked if he could get a ride to Vancouver. Everyone offered to contribute for gas, so I accepted on Andre's behalf.

  "Hey, they're all pitching in. I can pitch in as well, but I need to wait until my paycheck gets deposited on Monday."

  He laughed. "Yeah, we'll work it out. Now, this shirt or this one?" He was holding up a light blue button-down and a mint green one.

  I smiled at his worry. "Green. It brings out your eyes." He pulled it off the hanger and folded it, adding it to the suitcase.

  "Hey, is Chip seeing anyone?" I asked. It occurred to me that maybe Chip and Brad could be compatible. We'd met Chip for lunch earlier in the week, and he seemed like the type of guy Brad could go for. It was worth a shot. I wanted everyone to be as happy as me, apparently.

  Andre stepped out of the closet with another pair of jeans, and I had to stop him. "We're going to be there for two nights and three days. You have five pairs of jeans in that suitcase. What do you think we're going to do?" I asked with a laugh.

  He huffed, and I continued to laugh. "Laugh it up. Okay, you pack for me then."

  I rose from the bed to root through the mountain of clothes and took half of it back to his closet. I left him with two pairs of jeans, a pair of dress slacks for church on Sunday, and a few t-shirts. I added a dress shirt for church and a sweatshirt. After I added boxers, pajama pants, and his toiletry kit, I zipped it closed.

  "That's more than enough. Bring a coat because we're gonna be working outside. Other than that, it's just us hanging out at my house," I reminded.

  There was a quick knock on Andre's door before it burst open. Lance was standing there with a grin a mile wide. "Holyfield. Dupree. Are we ready to get this caravan on the road? We'll pick up Bryana and Amanda, and you guys get Brad. Juan said Chip and Lula are driving out as well, and they want to have a bonfire party out at the river behind their grandpa’s house on Saturday night if it doesn't rain. You two game?"

  I suddenly had another brilliant idea. I looked at the clock on Andre's nightstand, seeing it was just after two in the afternoon. "Hey, can I bring Nick? He can stay in my sister's room."

  Andre turned to look at me. "Where, uh, where will I sleep?"

  God, I love him. "In your car."

  His eyes grew narrow, and I laughed. "Babe, my bedroom is still like it was when I was a kid, and unfortunately, I have bunk beds. Momma never took them apart, but we can while you're there, and we can make them two twins. That way, we can be together but you don't have to worry about me choking you in your sleep," I responded honestly.

  "And your mom will be okay with that?" He looked amused, and it was probably an amusing situation when I looked at it from his perspective. He had a boyfriend who was fucking him on a regular basis, but they were going to be sleeping in a twin bed like a sixties' sitcom couple. I never understood how the couples in those old shows ended up having babies. They slept in twin beds, for hell's sake.

  "She'll be fine. I'd venture a guess Michelle Wixsom has never considered two bodies can be quite comfortable in a twin bed when they're stacked on top of each other," I teased.

  Lance cracked up first and Andre followed quickly, which made me laugh as well. It was actually humorous when I let the visual set in. Oh, but I was planning for us to stack on each other in my twin bed. Just because we were in Unionville didn't mean we weren't going to…fork. The Major is long gone, and so are his rules.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Meet My Mom

  "What kind of cake is that?" Nick asked from the back seat. We'd just left Brad's house in Vancouver, and his mother insisted on giving us a cake to take home. It didn't look like anything my mother ever made, but I couldn't be ungracious. She was being kind. I was very nice of her to send it, so I could add that to the list of what I wanted Future Colton to be…gracious.

  "I think she said it was prune and caramel. That doesn't sound like anything I'd ever eat," Andre complained, scrunching up his nose adorably. Adorably? God help the lovesick fool.

  I laughed at my internal musings. "We'll each take a bite before I toss it in the trash so if she asks on Sunday, we can have a clear conscience that we tried it. Momma's been baking all week, so we won't be relying on this for dessert," I assured.

  Oh, Michelle Wixsom had the weekend planned. She'd been scouting recipes and bouncing ideas off me all week via text, and I laughed every time I got one. She was inviting a bunch of people over for dinner on Saturday night, and she was making a pork roast. She was as excited as anyone I'd ever seen.

  I directed Andre to the Wixsom abode, and when we pulled up in front of the little three bedrooms, two-bathrooms, two-story house in which I'd grown up, my mother was sitting in the rocking chair on the front porch in her thick wool sweater. I saw how excited she was, and hell, it got me excited as well.

  We piled out of the car and grabbed our shit, walking up the front walk to the porch. "Momma, this is my boyfriend, Andre Dupree, and this is my roommate, Nick Tran. Boys, this is Michelle Wixsom, my momma," I introduced proudly.

  Andre stepped forward and took her hand, pulling her from the chair and hugging her, which shocked the shit out of her. "Mrs. Wixsom, it's truly a pleasure to see you again. You have no idea how happy I am to be invited to spend the weekend." He was a smooth bastard; I had to give him that one.

  When he stepped back, Momma had a glowing smile on her face. "It's so good to see you, Andre. Call me Chelle. Mrs. Wixsom is Joe's mother, and well, I don't get along with her much." I laughed. My mom and Grandma Diana didn't like each ot
her, and only spoke on holidays when I was around. Hell, I didn't like the woman much either.

  Momma turned to Nick and smiled. "So, you're the Yankee?"

  Andre and I both laughed as Nick hugged her. She pulled away and smiled. "You are all quite handsome young men. So, Nick, who's your fella?" she asked as she led him into the house with her arm around his shoulders. They were the same height, after all.

  "I think Nick just fell in love with his first girl," Andre teased as he grabbed the bags and kissed me quickly.

  "Hell, if he was straight, I wouldn't even bitch about the age difference. She's only forty-two. Daddy was five-years older than her, and she's too young to be alone," I confided.

  "She's a very beautiful woman, Colton." It wasn't anything I didn't know. Zoey was gorgeous, and apparently, from what my boyfriend told me on a regular basis I was pretty easy on the eyes. Zoey and I got our hair and eyes from Momma because she was our shared gene pool. My daddy was a handsome man and I got some of my looks from him, but I looked more like Momma and Zoey than Josiah.

  "I know it, but you mention her dating, and she becomes a wildcat. She found her one, and she's done," I whispered.

  We unloaded the car and settled the luggage into the rooms. Nick was actually giddy to be in Zoey's old room, asking me if he could snoop. I gave him the green light. I didn't give a shit what he did or what he found. I was pretty sure Mom had already scoured through both of our rooms after we left for college.

  Andre looked at the bunk beds and laughed. "They separate, right? I'm not climbing up there."

  "We can fix it later. They come apart, and we can move the dresser. Momma won't care. Dinner should be ready," I told him. As if on cue, his stomach rumbled.

  I took his hand and led him downstairs to find Nick already in the kitchen setting the table. "I bought beer for you boys. Help yourselves." It wasn't like my mother to provide liquor for a party, so I laughed.

  "Momma, you're aiding to the delinquency of minors. Now, what would Sheriff Wynn say about that?" I teased. She waved her hand at me as she always did when I was aggravating her.

  She set a steaming pile of fried chicken on the table and turned to the stove, grabbing the mashed potatoes and gravy. I helped her by putting the green beans in a bowl, and we all sat down at the table. "Grace, Colton," she reminded as I reached for a chicken thigh. I pulled my hand back as if she'd slapped me, and I heard chuckling next to me…on both sides. I'd deal with them later.

  "Dear heavenly Father, thank you for bringing these boys home safe and sound. Thank you for the food on the table, and thank you for the good company. In your name, Amen." I heard mumbled ‘Amen's’ next to me, and I smiled.

  "Oh, hell!" Momma exclaimed, hopping up and grabbing an oven mitt. She opened the door and pulled out a baking sheet and I was a happy boy. Her biscuits. Oh, it’s a good day.

  She quickly put them into a basket and placed them on the table. "Boys, dig in."

  Oh, and dig in we did. It was incredible. Momma caught Andre up on the gossip around town, asking him if he remembered this one and that one, and the way his eyes lit up when he spoke with her, it was magic to witness.

  We finished off everything with little Nick killing the mashed potatoes and gravy. I didn't know where he put it all, but he shoveled it down. When his plate was clean, he looked at my mother and smiled. "Miss Chelle, my boyfriend's mother is a southern cook and you just made me miss her. I don't suppose you can make collards?"

  "Sugar, I would but I can't find 'em here. If I was back home in Texas, I'd have 'em handy but I’ve only found ‘em at the farmer’s market in the summer. I can, however, make some wilted spinach with hot bacon dressing," she offered.

  Nick's eyes lit up. "Second best, Miss Chelle. Now, we'll clear this," he offered as he began taking up the dishes.

  "What's your background, Nick?" Momma asked as only she could get away with.

  He laughed. "My mother's Irish and my dad's Vietnamese. We have some interesting customs. One year when I was in high school, Mom took us to Ireland to meet her extended family. Oh, we were a big surprise," Nick began.

  Nick regaled us with stories of his childhood growing up in such a diverse family, and we all had a great evening. Momma even tried the prune cake, as did we all, and we agreed it had to go. Momma decided to make her Texas cake to send back in thanks and I laughed because if Brad's parents thought that prune cake was good, they wouldn't know what hit 'em when they tasted my mother’s Texas cake.

  After dishes were finished and put away in the cupboard, Mom went to the cabinet and pulled down a container of toothpicks and the bottle of Jim Beam, my dad's favorite. I went to the china cabinet in the dining room and grabbed four shot glasses, and walked back into the kitchen, lining them up for her.

  She poured four shots and placed the bottle on the counter and she returned to the table with a deck of cards. I wanted to laugh, but I wouldn't give her away. "Any of you boys know how to play Blackjack?"

  Andre looked at me sideways, and I smiled. He started laughing, and when I looked at Nick, I saw a bewildered look on his face. "It's twenty-one, right?"

  Momma put her hand over his. "Oh, sweetie, we'll teach you." She looked at me and winked. She placed the toothpick container in the middle of the table as she shuffled the cards. She held up the shot glasses after she delivered the drinks, and we all toasted to her.

  "Miss Chelle, I guess we're going a nickel a pick?" I asked. She nodded.

  "Boys, how much you want?" I asked.

  "I'll take a buck's worth," Andre responded, pulling out his wallet and handing over a dollar. Nick did the same, so I counted out twenty for each of them.

  "Momma?" She nodded so I counted out twenty for her as I took the cards from her.

  "I'm broke so I'll deal," I offered.

  Mom took my hand to stop me from shuffling the cards and pulled it so I looked at her. "Colton, how broke is broke?"

  I was immediately embarrassed because I didn't have a dollar in my pocket, having gotten by all week on a shoestring. My laundry was in the bag in my bedroom because I didn't have quarters at school, but I couldn't admit it in front of Andre.

  "I get paid on Monday, Momma. Don't worry about it," I blew her off.

  Andre, however, didn't let it go. "Colton, how broke is broke?"

  "Jeez you guys, I'm fine. Now, let's get started." I dealt the first card to each player and waited. They placed their bets and I dealt the rest of the hand. Nick won the first hand and squealed like a little girl.

  As I dealt the second hand, the little shit turned to Andre and volunteered, "When he's not at your place, he's eating Ramen. He has a case of that shit under his bed." I could have killed him right there.

  "I'm watching my weight. Andre's a good cook and Lance's a bad influence," I snapped in my own defense. He’ll definitely hear from me on that shit.

  We played until they ran out of money. Just like always, Momma walked away two-dollars richer and I congratulated her good fortune. We cleaned up the mess and went to bed, her promising breakfast at ten. Considering it was nearly one o'clock in the morning when we went upstairs, so I was grateful for the late breakfast schedule.

  We hugged her good-night, and she and Nick went to their separate rooms. I wasn't looking forward to going to my room with Andre because he didn’t seem to be very happy with me at all. He looked up at me and cocked an eyebrow. "So, how do we separate these beds?"

  "All we do is lift, but we have to move the dresser first," I responded. We picked it up and placed it front of the door until we separated the beds. After they were resituated and we argued over placement, we moved the dresser back to the far wall by the closet. I was happy to not have to deal with bunk beds any longer, but I could tell he wasn't happy about anything.

  He flopped onto the twin he'd claimed and looked at me. "So, Colton, how long have you been out of money?"

  I laughed, trying to chuck it off. "I'm not out of money, Dre. It's just that funds are a bit
tight right now because I had to pay my share of the car insurance, my credit card bill, and buy a new printer. I only used the credit card for books at the beginning of the year because it's Momma's and I won't let her pay it. I get paid on Mondays, and after they take out my last boarding payment in December, I'll be fine."

  After I went to the expense of buying a new ink cartridge, the damn power in the dorm room surged one night during a storm and blew up my printer, which was stupidly not plugged into a surge protector. It was another expense I didn't anticipate, but hell, shit happened and I made sure I bought a top of the line surge protector when I bought my new printer. I was fucking grateful I didn't have my laptop plugged in at the time.

  "How long have funds been tight," he asked, not surprisingly unwilling to change the subject.

  I rolled my eyes because I didn't want him to make a big deal of it. "Look, I drew out my savings to go to California. It was rainy day money, and when I went home with you, well, I couldn't think of a better reason to use it. Unfortunately, I didn't anticipate my printer would blow up. Stop making me feel like the poor country cousin, Andre. That won't get you laid," I threatened. I needed to take back some control over the conversation.

  I changed into pajamas and climbed into bed, turning off one of the little lamps with the wagon train around it which had been in my room forever. "Night."

  I rolled over and tried to pretend I was asleep, but he hadn't moved and well, the other light was still on. I flipped over to look at him and saw he wasn't exactly thrilled with my earlier responses, just as I suspected. "What?" I asked ready to do battle.

  "Let me…" he began.

  "If any part of that sentence has anything to do with money, I'm going to the couch," I snapped.

  "Jesus fucking Christ, you're so goddamn stubborn. Fine. No more talk about money," he responded as he stripped off and pulled on pajama pants. He climbed into the twin across from me and turned his back to me after he turned off the other light, and I didn't like it.