“What makes you say that?”
“He lives in Colorado. He trains there. He’d never move.”
“Why can’t you move?”
“And leave Raleigh?”
Luke tilted his head. “Sometimes I can’t tell if you’re serious or not.”
Isaac shrugged. “Leave Adam, I mean. And my mother. And you, dumbass. Raleigh is… whatever. The place I live. Also, it’s the place where the best swim coach in the world trains world-class swimmers and all my family lives.”
Luke leveled his gaze at Isaac. “Listen. I love you, you know that, right? You’re like a brother to me. We’ve trained together a long time. I think you’ve still got a few more world championship swims left in you. But how long do you really see this happening? You’ve made your big comeback. You proved your naysayers wrong. So maybe it’s time to think about the future. I don’t know if Tim is the person you’re going to spend the rest of your life with, but you know as well as anyone that life is too short not to pursue what you want.”
Isaac didn’t say anything, but he knew Luke had a point.
“Besides,” Luke said, “they have swim coaches in Colorado. Tara and AJ both train near Boulder. George Marsh still works out there.”
“It feels big,” Isaac said. “First of all, I’ve only known Tim for a hot minute. Second, I’ve lived around Raleigh most of my life.”
“And you hate it. I know you do. You stick around for Adam, and for your mother and Abby and that little nephew of yours. Family’s important, but I know Raleigh is not exactly your favorite place on the planet.”
Isaac sighed. “You mean the scene of all of my worst life moments? For example, the intersection on South Wilmington where I got arrested? Or that time I almost got arrested at Flex because I was hammered and decided starting a fight was a good idea?”
“My point was just that a change of scenery might not be the worst thing.”
Isaac shrugged. He’d never really contemplated leaving Raleigh before. He didn’t have a lot of love for the city, but he did love some of the people there. Moving half a world away for a man he just met? That seemed insane. “It seems dumb to switch coaches when I’m swimming this well.”
“I’m not saying you have to move next week. And you know, they do have these things called airplanes.”
“Gee, thanks.”
DONNIE TEXTED to say the synchronized swimmers had taken over the dive pool, so Tim let his parents take him to lunch after his morning of TV interviews. Tim’s father, Fred, had found a restaurant in his guidebook—which had so many little sticky flags sticking out of it, it looked like a porcupine—that probably catered more to tourists than locals, since it was actually open for lunch. Still, they had a good meal, and his parents enthused about his silver medal.
“You haven’t had much time to see Madrid, though, have you?” Tim’s mother said.
“No. And this afternoon I’m meeting Donnie and Jason in the gym for training.”
“I like this city a lot,” said Tim’s dad. “We had the best dinner last night, didn’t we, Malaya? One of your teammates recommended a wonderful place. Before that, we took a tour of the Royal Palace. It was really something.”
“Gorgeous. And the architecture! It’s a fascinating city, Timmy. You’ll be missing out if you don’t see some of it.”
“I’ll have some time next weekend,” Tim said. He wondered if Isaac would want to come with him.
“We have a whole day planned tomorrow,” said Tim’s dad.
“Your father signed us up for one of those hop-on, hop-off bus tours. Which I think is a little tacky.”
“At least we didn’t have to rent a car. It’s the easiest way to get around and see everything.” Tim’s dad turned to Tim. “We’ll let you know what’s worth seeing.”
“Thanks.”
“Maybe Jason will want to come with you,” said Tim’s mother. “He’s a nice boy, right?”
Oh boy. “Yeah. Jason’s great. But not in the way you’re implying. He’s straight.”
“Oh, well,” Tim’s mom said. “I just hoped that after everything that happened with Pat, you might be dating again soon. It’s been a few months since you broke up.”
Tim looked around. They were in a restaurant a few blocks from the broadcast center, miles away from the Athlete Village. Tim didn’t see anyone he thought might be an Olympic athlete, at least in terms of physique, but it was hard to tell. Most elite athletes had a superhuman quality to them, but then there were shot-putters or weight lifters and really, all bets were off. Still, he didn’t recognize anyone nearby, and most of the tables seemed occupied by Spanish speakers. So Tim said, sotto voce, “Well, as it happens, I’ve been spending some time with one of the other athletes. He’s not a diver, and no, I’m not telling you who he is yet. Not until I have a better handle on what’s going on with us.”
“Is it a gymnast?”
“Mom.”
“Just curious. That one gymnast is really handsome. Jake Mirakovitch. We went to men’s gymnastics the other day when you were not diving.”
Tim had never met Jake, but he tamped down a spike of jealousy as he remembered that Jake was the gymnast Isaac thought was hot. He shook his head. “Mom. I only told you I’m hanging out with this guy so you don’t worry I’m going to die alone, but that’s all I’m saying. I mean, he lives on the other side of the country. The odds of it working out are pretty slim.”
“But you like him? He treats you well?”
“Yeah, so far. I mean, mostly we’ve just eaten meals together and talked.” And rubbed off on each other the night before, but his mother didn’t need to hear that.
“Maybe that’s all you need,” his father said softly.
“Yeah, I….” Tim shook his head. “It’s nice. He doesn’t want anything from me other than for us to spend time together. He barely knew who I was when we met. I don’t think he cares about fame. Of course, we only met a week ago, so I can’t assume anything yet, but my instincts tell me he’s a good guy.”
“We just want you to be happy, darling,” his mother said.
“I know. But hey, I won an Olympic silver medal. I can’t be sad about that.”
Tim’s mother reached over and brushed his hair out of his face, just like she had when he was a little kid. Tim closed his eyes and let her, glad for this little bit of home in the sprawling city.
Chapter 14
BECAUSE OF the synchronized swimming practice, and after some frustration at the gym, Donnie ordered his divers to the pool late in the day. That was why Tim was still at the Aquatics Center when the swimmers started to file in for that night’s races.
“You want to see if we can stick around to watch?” asked Ginny. “I’m not diving tomorrow. Are you?”
“No, not until Monday,” said Tim.
“Wait here.”
Ginny came back a few minutes later with Jason and Kayla in tow. “Turns out USA Swimming has a whole section reserved for friends and family of the team, and they’ve got some seats available if we want them.”
Half the dive team wound up joining them. Tim saw that the American network, TBC, had its camera trained on them, so he knew reporters were aware the dive team sat in the stands. He wondered if Isaac would find out Tim was watching him. How would Isaac feel about that? Maybe he wouldn’t like it.
Tim got cold feet suddenly, not wanting to jeopardize Isaac’s performance in any way. On the other hand, he wanted to see Isaac swim in person, and who knew how many opportunities he’d have for that?
“I’m kicking out too hard,” Kayla said as they settled into their seats. “That’s what Donnie keeps saying. My dives at Worlds last year were almost all short of vertical, so I tried straightening it out. But Donnie thinks I’ve gone too far.”
“So don’t kick so hard,” said Jason.
“I can do these dives. What is it about the Olympics that makes everything I know leak out of my head?”
“Nerves,” said Ginny.
“How’d you stay so loose during the synchro competition?” Tim asked Jason. He remained impressed by how cool Jason had been under pressure.
“My music,” said Jason. “Also, I never look at the scoreboard. It’s best not to know where you stand and then be pleasantly surprised.”
“So you didn’t know you were in second place until the end?” Kayla asked.
“Yeah. I kind of thought we were in the middle of the field, like we’d end up fifth or sixth. I had no idea we were winning.”
“But you knew, Tim. Right?”
“Yeah. I knew. I can’t not look at the scoreboard. I get anxious if I don’t know exactly where we are in the standings. But really, whatever approach you take, the real trick is not to tense up. If the nerves get to you, your body won’t behave the way it’s supposed to.”
“Like, it’s the Olympics?” Jason said. “But it’s also a meet. There’s more cameras and people and whatever, but it’s not that different from, like, a college meet or a regional thing or whatever. The platform is the same distance from the water.”
“Look at you,” Ginny said. “You win one Olympic medal and suddenly you’re an expert.”
Jason sat up a little and pointed to his chest with his thumb. “Hey, I won the medal.”
That shut Ginny down. Tim chuckled.
Isaac had said he had two races tonight. Tim glanced at his phone, where Isaac had texted 100 breast, 400 free. He took that to mean Isaac would swim in the 100-meter breaststroke final, which was scheduled for toward the end of the night, and the 400-meter freestyle semifinal, which was happening pretty early.
“Flood is swimming,” Ginny said.
“I know,” said Tim.
“Twice.”
“Yup.”
“Who are you texting? Did the whole planet text you after you won the medal?”
“Yeah.” Tim turned the screen off. “I’m still getting texts from people back home. It’s been nonstop. How do I answer all these?”
“You don’t. Send a mass text telling everyone you appreciate it and go back to training.”
Tim nodded. “Or just shut the thing off.”
“Or that.”
Isaac did not swim in the first race, a backstroke semifinal, but there were two Americans in that heat. Ginny cheered her head off even though she didn’t know either swimmer, so Tim got into it too. Having a stake in the race—wanting specific swimmers to win—riled up Tim, and he got tense watching. Both Americans qualified for the final.
Then an official announced the 400-meter freestyle semifinals.
Isaac wasn’t in the first heat, but his training partner Luke was. So was another American, though Tim didn’t recognize the name. The swimmers came out and fiddled with things at the blocks for a few minutes before they were ready to race.
Luke won the first race. A Chinese swimmer came in second and a Brazilian swimmer was third. The other American took the fourth spot, but Tim had watched enough swimming to know that didn’t necessarily guarantee him a spot in the finals.
Ginny had cheered for Luke, but she went full-on bananas when Isaac came out.
Isaac took off his shoes and socks and slid out of his warm-up pants, though he continued to stand there in his coat for a minute. He stripped in a practical way; his purpose was to keep warm until the last possible second, when he’d get down to his swimsuit and jump in the pool. His mannerisms were practiced and businesslike—but there was something sexy about them too. Tim loved Isaac’s broad chest—which he’d barely gotten to explore during their quickie the night before—and seeing it on display now, both directly next to the pool and up on the big screen next to the scoreboard, was quite an experience.
“He’s so sexy,” Ginny said.
“Oh yeah,” said Tim, because why fight it?
The swimmers were told to get to their marks, so Isaac fiddled with his goggles and got up on the block. He did some weird thing with his hands that seemed to be more of a pantomime of getting ready to swim than anything real. Still, he cut a compelling figure, and Tim couldn’t take his gaze away.
Isaac bent forward. “Set,” said the announcer. Then a buzzer sounded and the swimmers were in the water.
According to the scoreboard, Isaac was in fourth after the first lap, but there were many more laps to go. Tim got nervous for him, though, his gut clenching as he leaned forward.
“He’s pacing himself,” Ginny said. “He doesn’t want to get too tired because he has to swim again later.”
By the third lap, Isaac had caught up and seemed to be swimming neck and neck with the two other leaders. By the fourth lap, he had inched ahead.
He was amazing.
Tim thought he might have shouted the loudest.
Isaac finished the race second, but had a good enough time to advance. Up on the big screen, Tim could see Isaac nod as if he was satisfied with that. The swimmers patted each other on the back or gave each other high fives or back pats—it all seemed very collegial—then they all got out of the pool and retreated toward the locker room.
Tim finally breathed.
“Wow, that was tense,” he said.
“I know!” said Ginny. “This is really exciting. I wish we didn’t have to train the rest of the week or I’d say we should come back every day.”
“We should take up one of those sports that has its whole event on the first day. Then we’d be done and could just watch other competitions,” Jason said. “Like shooting or archery or whatever. Those are all done pretty fast.”
“Can you do any of those sports?” asked Ginny.
“I did archery at summer camp when I was a kid,” said Jason.
“That totally counts as Olympic training,” said Kayla, with an eye roll.
They sat through another hour of races, with a lot of wait time in between. “It’s like golf,” Kayla observed after a while. “A lot of sitting for, like, three minutes of action.”
At one point Ginny squealed again. Tim thought Isaac had come back out, but she was looking at her phone. “Hey, look at this. There have already been three marriage proposals at the Madrid Games.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. The first was on Saturday. The Brazilian women’s soccer team won their first game, and then the girlfriend of one of the players ran onto the pitch and proposed. The second was a fencer from Italy who proposed to his girlfriend after he secured the gold medal. And the third was a cyclist from Great Britain who proposed to his boyfriend in front of the Plaza Mayor when they went on a tour.”
“Aw,” said Kayla. “Something for everyone.”
“It’s nice that there are so many openly gay athletes,” said Jason. “I mean, the media is talking about these proposals, right?”
“Yeah. It’s pretty great.”
Tim nodded, but he remained a little skeptical. “It is nice. But, I mean, my parents told me that there was some controversy because that one British diver’s husband was in the audience during the team competition, but the American network wouldn’t show him on TV.”
“That’s dumb,” said Ginny. “What’s the big deal? It should be about the divers, not their high-profile spouses.”
“Well, think of it this way. If what my parents said was true, if I’d married Pat, they wouldn’t show him in the audience. But they showed a whole lot of both of the Australians’ wives. Like, they want to embrace the LGBT athletes but not show too much.”
“Oh,” said Ginny, seeming chastened.
“Sorry. I’m not bitter, I promise. And Pat’s out of the picture, so it doesn’t even matter. I just hope that someday, if I get married while I’m still competing, the cameras pan to my husband supporting me from the stands. Just like they’d show the spouse of any other athlete. That’s all.”
“Did they ever show Pat when you were dating?”
“Not really. Although Pat didn’t come to a lot of my meets.”
“When you blamed his schedule, how true was that?”
Ti
m sighed. He didn’t love the third degree Ginny was giving him, but he answered, “His schedule was usually the reason he couldn’t come. He’d be filming something and not available to travel, that sort of thing. But his schedule was more important to him than me. Some of that comes with the territory of being an actor, but sometimes he’d bail on my meets so he could get strategic paparazzi photos taken and that sort of nonsense.”
“Good riddance,” said Jason.
“Yeah. That guy was a tool,” said Ginny. “You’re better off without him.”
Tim laughed ruefully. “I am. You’re right.”
He wondered if he was making a better choice by falling for a certain swimmer. Because he was definitely falling. But Isaac was a risky choice. The alcoholism was something he still struggled with. Did that make him a bad bet? And they lived so far apart, there was no way it would ever work.
One day at a time, Tim told himself. That’s how Isaac would tell him to look at the situation.
He kept trying to frame the rest of his scheduled time in Madrid as having a whole two weeks left, but really, he only had two weeks left.
He shook his head and tried to focus on the swimming. Ginny was shouting again, so there must have been American swimmers in the water.
Tim wanted Isaac, bottom line. The question was how to make that happen past the Closing Ceremony.
“I think that’s Flood’s mom right there,” Ginny whispered as she gestured toward the front of the section they were sitting in.
A middle-aged woman with graying hair sat five rows in front of them. Tim could only really see the back of her head, but it could have been Isaac’s mom. Tim had seen pictures of her, or video footage of her cheering on her son from the stands, so he knew what she looked like. She chatted with a younger woman, closer to Tim’s age—maybe Isaac’s sister, because she didn’t have the physique of a swimmer. And there were plenty of swimmers around them in the stands to compare with.
Finally the announcer proclaimed the 100-meter breaststroke final was next. For the finals, there was a little more ceremony. As they called each swimmer, he stepped out in front of a flashy screen that displayed his name, and he waved to the crowd.
Here Comes the Flood Page 14