The Right Time

by Lane Hayes

  One afternoon in early October, I was sitting in on a meeting with the investors going over financing options. I knew this topic had been addressed ad nauseam months ago, but long, boring meetings to tackle issues we’d already addressed was commonplace in my profession. I tried to cut through the bullshit and avoid wasting time with unnecessary conference calls and boardroom meetings with people who loved hearing the sound of their own voice drone on about nothing in particular. However, when it came to the financial aspect, I treaded lightly. There was no sense making enemies with the firm that had invested many millions of dollars to see this project through.

  A heated debate about a clause in a previous contract having nothing to do with my project was taking place on the far end of the conference room. I sighed heavily as I surreptitiously glanced at the time on my cell phone. A message lit up the screen, letting me know I’d missed a text message.

  What r u doing?

  I’m in a boring meeting. You?

  I’m going to play soccer with my nephew. Want to come?

  Now?

  I lifted my head to look across the table at the pompous windbags discussing what amounted to old news and considered Alex’s invitation. They didn’t need me here. Not really. I never took time off. If I wanted to leave at… three in the afternoon, I mused, checking the time again, I could.

  Yes. I’m picking up Milo from school. You can meet us.

  I typed my answer but thought about my reply before pressing send. Did I want to leave the office a good five hours before my normal quitting time to go hang out with my neighbor slash the guy I was secretly seeing and his nephew? I liked kids, but I never spent much time around them. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. I could always come up with an excuse on another day when family wasn’t in the equation.

  “Psst, Nate!”

  Caroline gave me a sharp stare and furrowed her brow as if silently asking “are you okay?” I smiled back and pushed send before standing to apologize for interrupting.

  “Something’s come up I need to handle right away. Caroline will take care of any questions or concerns you may have. Or you can reach me tomorrow if you prefer. Good afternoon.”

  I felt a little guilty when more than one person wished me well as I gathered my belongings. I nodded my thanks and let out a breath of relief when I finally exited the overcrowded conference room.

  “Nate!”

  I stopped at the sound of Caroline’s voice. Fuck. I turned around, willing myself not to look at my watch in my impatience to be gone.

  “Yeah?”

  “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

  Caroline and I may have been a disastrous married couple but we’d mercifully remained friends. I trusted her and valued her friendship professionally and personally. I didn’t owe her an explanation, but I didn’t want her to worry.

  “Nothing.”

  “Is it Julie? Is she okay?”

  “Julie? Caroline, I haven’t seen Julie in weeks, but I’m sure she’s fine. I’m….” I gave a humorless half chuckle, realizing this wasn’t so easy after all.

  “You aren’t sick, are you?” Her shrewd blue eyes studied me for clues.

  “I’m fine too. I’m taking the afternoon off. We both know that’s a bullshit meeting, and frankly, I got a better offer. That’s all.” I shrugged and started to move away and was immediately stopped by an insistent hand on my arm.

  “Nate, I can’t believe I have to point this out, but you leaving at three in the afternoon on a Wednesday in the middle of a finance meeting for the biggest project we’ve ever been involved in, bullshit aside, is….”

  “Different?”

  “Cause for alarm.” She brushed a stray piece of her smartly bobbed blonde hair away from her eyes and tucked it distractedly behind her ear in her typical no-nonsense fashion. Caroline was a petite woman with an intense desire for order and a low tolerance for inefficiency or incompetence. But she didn’t seem pissed I was shirking my duties; she seemed genuinely worried.

  “There’s nothing to be alarmed about. Honestly. Nothing of importance is being discussed. We’ve been through the same line of so-called concerns countless times. That meeting is being held so a couple of assholes can brush up on their oratory skills. They like to hear themselves speak, and I have something else to do.” I tried a conciliatory smile and stepped back again but didn’t get far.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m meeting a friend.”

  “Oh wow. You’re seeing someone new? You never said anything.”

  “Sort of. Not really. Look, it’s not a big deal.”

  “Go on.” She gave me a sweet lopsided smile, then stood on her toes to plant a small kiss on my cheek. “Have fun with your mystery girl. You deserve an afternoon off, and I can certainly hold down the fort while you’re out.”

  She swiveled on her impossibly high heels and headed back toward the conference room before I could say a word. I stared after her for a moment before heading toward the elevator. I loosened my tie, then pushed the button a couple times, suddenly very anxious to be gone.

  THE DRIVE from downtown LA to Redondo Beach took forty minutes in relatively light traffic. I parked my SUV and traipsed across an expansive field with my gym bag in hand. I figured I’d change into workout clothes and sneakers before trying to find Alex and Milo. The park was crowded with various youth league soccer teams vying for practice space. I was beginning to think I’d been too impetuous. A field of kids ranging in age from nine to fifteen screaming their heads off as balls went flying in every direction suddenly didn’t seem like a great alternative to getting out of my boring meeting.

  Until I saw Alex.

  He stood at the far end of the park with his foot resting on a ball while he spoke to his nephew. The boy nodded a few times and took off down the field before turning to wait for the ball. Alex kicked it hard. So hard it sailed a long way past Milo, who immediately looked discouraged.

  “You have to anticipate, Milo. Always be looking. Nothing comes easy. Nada. Go on. Run for it!” Alex clapped his hands and gestured for him to get going. His manner was enthusiastic and encouraging, rather than overbearing. I may have been reticent around kids, but Alex obviously was a pro.

  “Hey,” I greeted him with a wave and set my bag next to one I recognized as his on the grassy sideline.

  His beautiful wide smile made me wish I could greet him with a kiss. Of course, the second the thought crystallized, I adjusted my glasses nervously, wondering where the hell that came from.

  “Hi. Glad you could make it! We have maybe an hour to practice till I have to get him home. Do you mind running a couple drills with me? I was hoping to wrangle a few soccer buddies but it was last minute, so I guess I’ll make do with the surfer boy.”

  I turned my wrist and flipped him off at an angle only he could see before asking what he needed me to do. Alex laughed appreciatively and told me his game plan.

  Basically I kicked the ball up field toward Milo while Alex guarded him aggressively. I amended my earlier assertion he was an encouraging mentor to thinking some of his tactics were downright contentious. I would aim the ball directly at Milo, and Alex would leap in front of the kid and take it away time after time, sometimes physically bumping him out of the way. At one point I pulled him aside to ask how this could possibly be considered helpful.

  “He’s a kid, Alex! What are you doing?”

  Alex looked at me in surprise, swiping his hand through his thick hair while the other rested on his hip. His gaze traveled back to his nephew, who stopped to take a swig of water.

  “I’m trying to show him he’s stronger than he thinks. He’s been afraid to compete since his accident. He’s got to believe in himself again. If he can hang with me, he’ll know he can beat out any other kid going for the same ball. We have another twenty minutes. Keep watching. And trust me.” He winked before turning away and signaling for Milo to join him.

  I heaved a sigh as I once again kicked the
soccer ball to Milo. No wonder I stuck to individual activities like surfing and snowboarding as a kid. It was one thing to push yourself to be better, but I wasn’t sure I agreed with Alex’s aggressive techniques with his ten-year-old nephew. I watched Alex easily wrangle the ball away from Milo and shook my head in disapproval. He was saying something to the boy in Spanish, but I was too far away to overhear. I ran toward them as Alex was about to fire the ball back in my direction when Milo leapt in front of the ball to steal it away from his uncle. He dribbled the ball toward the net and seemed to anticipate Alex’s presence behind him. When Alex attempted to take the ball back, Milo threw his right arm out and shoved him hard.

  Alex stumbled a few feet before dropping to the ground. Part of me knew he was acting, but it was a good performance. Milo stopped for a half a second, looking over his shoulder at his uncle, then continued up the field and pummeled the ball into the net. He threw his arms in the air and ran back toward us yelling a long extended victorious “Goal!” in true Latin fashion.

  Alex sat up with a proud grin fixed on his handsome face and called his nephew over. Milo obeyed but ran in a circle around his uncle before coming close.

  “Milo, deprisa!”

  Milo stopped his chant as he came to tower over his uncle with his hands on his hips looking very much like a miniature version of Alex. The moment he was close enough, Alex yanked him down to the grass and tickled him mercilessly. I looked over at them wearing a matching smile that threatened to split my face in two. Their joy was infectious. When they finally sobered and stood up, brushing grass and muck from their shorts, Alex sent the boy to grab the ball so they could get going.

  “Can’t we play longer? It’s not dark yet, and I don’t have much homework.”

  “Hmm.” Alex came toward me, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “What do you think, Nate? Do you think we can spare another fifteen minutes or so?”

  I looked between Alex and the excited kid and gave my watch a quick glance before shrugging nonchalantly. “Why not?”

  Milo whooped loudly and ran back up the field to retrieve the ball. I chuckled at his exuberance as I bumped Alex’s arm playfully.

  “That was pretty damn cool. Was your strategy to piss him off or did that happen naturally?” I teased.

  Alex gave me a wan smile but kept his eye on the boy. “We’ve been doing a variation of this exercise a few times a week since that dinner a couple weeks ago at my sister’s. Fear is a powerful thing. It motivates you or it keeps you from doing what you love.”

  He shook his head and pursed his lips thoughtfully as though his mind were elsewhere.

  “He looks like he’s ready to try again. Well done, Alejo.” I reached out and rubbed his shoulder.

  When he looked up at me his expression went from reflective to sultry in the blink of an eye. I actually gulped, but I couldn’t look away if I tried.

  “I like that.”

  “What?”

  “You calling me Alejo. It sounds nice coming from you. Kind of sexy.” He smiled and turned away almost self-consciously. “Come on. Let’s entertain the kid before I have to take him home.”

  I watched him as he ran after Milo, waving his arms and signaling for him to pass the ball. Alex looked so at ease, as comfortable on a crowded field catering to youth sports as he probably had been in a stadium filled to maximum capacity with a crowd cheering him on. I was drawn to him both physically and on another plane I wasn’t quite ready to explore. The way he took time from his busy schedule to help a ten-year-old boy overcome his fear of failure was inspirational to say the least. Alex was infinitely generous and compassionate in a way I found humbling. He was who I wish I could be if I were brave enough to give that much of myself away.

  We got ready to part ways at dusk. Alex had already fielded a phone call from his sister promising to get Milo home in time for dinner. I grinned when I heard him decline her dinner invitation but request an extra helping of dinner for me. He waggled his eyebrows before bending with his cell at his ear to stuff the soccer ball in his duffel bag. Milo stood next to me giving me a long searching stare as he brushed his sweaty bangs from his forehead.

  “Are you my uncle’s boyfriend?” His tone was curious, not accusing, but I was instantly wary and then angry with myself for freaking out over a simple question.

  “Um… well no. We’re friends.”

  “It’s cool if you are. That’s all.” He shrugged and picked up his bag as Alex straightened and ended the call with his sister. His amused expression told me he’d overheard his nephew.

  “I have an idea. A brilliant one,” he boasted with twinkling eyes.

  “Oh?”

  “The center is located downtown. I know you may not be able to get away all the time, but I’m thinking it would help Milo to play with some of the older kids. Hell, he’s got more skill than some of them so he can help me. And you can too.”

  “Huh? What exactly do you mean?”

  “Aye yai yai!” Alex gave me an exasperated look and switched to Spanish. “I’m asking you to volunteer at the LGBT center once a week with me and Milo. What do you think?”

  “Cool! I want to! Mamá and Papá will say yes too. C’mon, Nate! It would be so awesome!” Milo cheered wildly with a fist pump.

  “Uh.”

  “I’ll take your enthusiastic response as a—”

  “Yes. Sure. I’d be happy to.”

  Alex stared at me warily for a moment. I’m not sure what he saw, but something made him smile. A glorious ray of sunshine I wasn’t aware I’d missed until its warmth bathed me and made every worry, every fear fade to nothing.

  “Hmm. I’m going to take this guy home so he can brag about his return to greatness on the field today. I’ll see you later.”

  I picked up my bag and waved, thinking I’d better get moving before I started worrying about what I agreed to do. “Bye, Milo. See you later, Alejo.”

  Alex chuckled and nodded sweetly before throwing an arm around his nephew’s shoulders to head out in the opposite direction.

  WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON soccer practice soon became a norm on my calendar. No one at the office questioned me. They probably assumed I was off site doing research for my next project. Caroline was the only one who had an inkling of my whereabouts, but I never went into detail. How was I going to explain that I was helping coach a teen youth group at the LGBT center downtown? The after-school kick around with Milo had morphed into the idea to combine helping his nephew with the time he already spent at the center. When he pointed out I worked downtown, which made the commute a nonissue, and told me how much he appreciated my help, what was I going to say? His mouth may or may not have been around my cock, but that hardly mattered. I wanted to be with Alex. I wanted to be near him. The rush of hearing his laughter and watching him move was intoxicating. He was a drug to me. I couldn’t get enough.

  I looked forward to the new after-practice routine we established. We’d drive home separately, shower, change, and meet at Alex’s to share whatever goodies Selena sent home with him when he dropped Milo off. Yeah, I liked being in Alex’s orbit, but I also enjoyed helping out. I was scared shitless to spend time with a bunch of surly teens and a ten-year-old boy who knew more about soccer than I’d ever hoped to learn, but Alex made everything easy. He knew how to deflect attitude with humor and how to motivate so the kids weren’t focused on what they couldn’t do. They were excited about what they were learning. And because they were typical teens, they couldn’t help asking a million questions about us. “What’s with you and the dude with the glasses, Alejo?” The relentless inquiries made me nervous at first, but eventually they made me laugh. Alex was so good at downplaying everything. “I have a thing for Superman, hombrecito. The Clark Kent version. Nate’s kinda hot, huh?” I could feel my face turn bright red while he playfully teased me and invited me to stop taking everything so fucking seriously. Unbelievably, it worked.

  A couple of things saved me from being a complete disaster. I
was naturally athletic and caught on easily. Plus I spoke Spanish. Most of the teens from the LGBT center were Latino, and though everyone spoke English, a few wanted to mess with me when I first started helping Alex. They either called me names or pretended they couldn’t understand what I was saying. After a few weeks, they eventually let up. Except for Eli, who put up with me, at best.

  Eli was a sixteen-year-old punk. He was maybe five foot eight with dark hair and dark skin. He was heavily tatted for someone his age. I remembered hearing his dad was in a gang, and his grandmother had tried raising him, but everything had gone to hell when he was caught kissing a boy. He had the defensive stance of someone who was used to fighting. One Wednesday after practice he stopped me outside the LGBT center door. Eli looked like he was torn between wanting to kick my ass or cry. He nudged my arm hard.

  “What is it?”

  His posture was rigid, and I always expected to see his fists clenched. However, his eyes told a different story. They weren’t steely or cold. They were haunted and vulnerable.

  “Are you with Alex? Like… you know?”

  A month ago I would have been clueless but I was a fairly quick study. “Like” and “you know” were common teenageisms. “Like” peppered every sentence and was rarely used as its definition indicated it should be. Instead it was used as a comma. A placeholder between the actual message. “You know” was the question mark in case your audience didn’t understand the inflection in your tone. Eli using the two phrases with no other words meant the first thing he’d asked was what had him so flustered.

  “Yes. I’m with him.”

  Eli studied me for a long moment and let out a heavy sigh before finally meeting my gaze. “You don’t even look gay. I don’t get it.”

  He gave me a somewhat disgusted look before sauntering away with his hands shoved deep in the back pockets of his jeans. I watched him don his cool-dude persona like a cape, but couldn’t help thinking he looked so damn defeated.

  I PUSHED open Alex’s door later that night. He left it ajar, and as usual I was greeted with the sound of music. Something soft and mellow, rather than the loud, bumping bass he normally played. I found him standing barefoot in his kitchen with slightly damp hair. He greeted me with his customary sweet smile and a glass of red wine.