Here Comes the Flood

by Kate McMurray

  “Do you have an agent or a lawyer?”

  Oh shit. “No, not anymore.” God, what had happened now?

  “It’s not bad, I promise. But USA Swimming has been getting phone calls almost nonstop for two days from various sponsors who want to get in touch with you.”

  Sponsors? Good Lord. Was endorsement money coming back in? “Well, gee. And all I had to do was win six gold medals.”

  “Don’t be a smartass,” said Adam. “Do you want to deal with these people directly, or should I get Sheri on it for now? She’s been fielding requests for some of the other athletes too.”

  “If Sheri feels okay handling it, I’d prefer that. Until I can line up an agent again.”

  “Sheri can help you with that too. Or talk to Luke. I like his agent a lot. Maybe you guys can sort through all this mess. I hate this shit, as you know, but if it pays well enough to keep you in the pool, I’m all for it.”

  Wow, shit. Of course, endorsements were usually predicated on his continuing to swim for at least a little while. Speedo wouldn’t want to pay him much if he couldn’t model their swimsuits during competition… which threw a wrench in his fantasy plan of moving to Colorado. More swimming meant more Raleigh. Adam was the best coach in the biz, and they’d been working together for more than two decades. He’d be insane to switch now.

  “Okay,” said Isaac. “Yeah, let Sheri handle it, but tell her she can call me anytime if she needs me. I’ll be in Madrid for another week.”

  “Good to know. And I… I’m proud of you, Isaac, if I haven’t told you that enough. If all this keeps you out of a bottle, that’s really the main thing, though. Where are you now? Not in a bar, I hope. It sounds noisy.”

  Isaac knew Adam was just looking out for him, but he hated the suspicion. Would they ever move past questions like that? Then again, Isaac supposed he deserved it. “No, I’m at the diving finals with Luke and Katie. It just ended.”

  “Oh. Interesting. Team USA do anything good?”

  “Tim Swan won a bronze medal.”

  “Right on. Well, I’ll talk to you later. I’m flying home Friday. My wife wants to see Madrid before I head home, so we’re going on some insane tour tomorrow. Then I’ve got some interviews and shit to do the rest of the week.”

  “Thanks, Adam. I mean for all of it. For believing in me. For coaching me.”

  “Of course, kid. You’re…. I mean, there will never be another one like you. I know you get the Phelps comparisons all the time, but you really are one in a million. Phelps was a phenom, but you have a strength I’ve never seen in anyone else before. I don’t think any other athlete on the planet could have done what you did at these Games.”

  God, what did one even say to that? Adam’s words humbled Isaac, moved him. He’d spent a lot of time in the past few days thinking about what he’d done and how he’d done it, but he’d felt weak, as if he’d succeeded despite himself. Adam had called him strong; maybe he was. “Yeah. Um, thank you.”

  Isaac got off the phone and took a deep breath, trying to keep his emotions in check as he rejoined his friends. Luke and Katie were still chatting with the Swans. Isaac looked around and his gaze settled on the guy Katie thought was Patterson Wood. He seemed to be hovering.

  Isaac kept an eye on him as he approached his friends. They seemed to be getting restaurant recommendations. Unfortunately, everything happening made him pine for a beer, so he said to Luke, “Let’s not go somewhere with a noisy bar.”

  “Gotcha.” Luke looked up from his phone and asked the Swans, “Is there some quiet spot not far from here you’ve been to? I’m starving, so I don’t really want to go across the city.”

  “Oh, there’s this marvelous place we went the other night,” said Mrs. Swan. “Just a few blocks from here, pretty easy walking. Best seafood I’ve ever had. It should be quiet this time of day. You know the Spanish don’t eat dinner until late into the night….”

  That all seemed to be in order, so Isaac texted Tim: I want to hold u now.

  Tim texted back. If only. I gotta get a medal now, tho. He texted a medal emoji.

  Isaac wanted to cash in on that medal but thought better of saying anything now. What a hardship, he said instead. His therapist would probably have something to say about using sarcasm as a defense mechanism.

  Tim deserved a far better man than Isaac.

  But he had bigger problems because Patterson Wood finally stopped hovering and made his presence known. “Mr. and Mrs. Swan?”

  Mrs. Swan looked startled. “Pat,” she said with a wheeze. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see Tim dive. Flew out here a few days ago.”

  Mrs. Swan shook her head. Her husband stood right behind her, glaring at Pat. It was nice to see where they stood, at least; neither seemed to like Pat much at all. “You shouldn’t be here. It’s very important for Tim to focus. You’ll be a distraction.”

  “I want him back,” Pat said.

  Isaac opened his mouth to state that wouldn’t be happening, but he realized quickly that letting the Swans and Pat know he was with Tim would only make this situation worse.

  Tim had loved Pat once. Could he again? Pat was handsome and had a certain amount of charm. And if he begged Tim enough, Tim might decide someone familiar and close by might be a better bet than the alcoholic who lived on the other side of the country. Isaac had known plenty of Pats in his lifetime, guys who were douchebags but handsome and charming enough to hide it. He could easily appeal to Tim’s sense of nostalgia, to the way their relationship used to be, to the earning potential of merging their collective star power, to being a better bet than the drunk swimmer.

  “We should, uh, go,” Luke said, hooking his thumb toward the exit.

  Isaac nodded, not realizing he’d stepped toward Pat. “Uh, it was nice meeting you all.”

  He followed Luke out of the stands, but not before he heard Pat say, “I made a terrible mistake and I came to Madrid to make up for it.” But Luke pulled him away before he could hear the Swans’ response.

  Chapter 22

  TIM LET himself into Isaac’s room, completely out of sorts.

  It had been one of the worst nights of his life.

  He found Isaac lying on the bed, looking cool and casual, flipping through a book.

  “I bought this at the America House gift shop tonight,” Isaac said as Tim came in and put his bag down. “It’s a history of the Olympic Games. But it’s, like, the officially sanctioned IOC version, so it’s all spit-shined and sanitized.”

  Tim sighed. “No scandals?”

  “Well, they talked about the unavoidable scandals. The Nazi Games, the Black Power salute in Mexico City, the terrorism at Munich. There’s one measly paragraph on doping. But take your man Louganis, for example.”

  Tim’s heart sank as he sat next to Isaac on the bed. “Did they leave him out?”

  “No. There’s even a bit about how he hit his head but still came back to win a medal. Just no mention of homosexuality or HIV.”

  “Well, I guess I can’t blame them for that.”

  Isaac looked up and met Tim’s gaze. “No? You don’t think it’s important?”

  “I think it’s very important, but when it happened, nobody knew about Greg being gay or HIV-positive.”

  “Yeah. But, like, they also didn’t talk at all about the antigay stuff in Russia during the Sochi Games or the pollution in Rio or any of that. We both know there’s a lot of bullshit the public doesn’t see. To read this account, everything having to do with the Olympics and its host cities has always been on the up-and-up.”

  “Of course.”

  Isaac put the book aside. “God, I’m glad to see you.”

  Tim smiled. He felt tired. After the medal ceremony, his family and most of the USA Diving staff had taken him out to dinner; then he’d had to put in some requisite time with the divers partying at America House. He’d been about to succumb to postcompetition fatigue when Pat had shown up.

  �
��Did you party?” Isaac asked, pulling Tim into his arms.

  “Yeah, a little.” Not at all, because Pat had insisted on speaking to Tim. And Tim didn’t know how to tell Isaac about that conversation. He knew he needed to. He had no idea what to say.

  “Did you drink?”

  “No. Too much sugar.” The answer was automatic—Tim didn’t drink during competition because alcoholic drinks had many unnecessary calories—but the enormity of the question hit him after he spoke. “Would it have been a problem if I had?”

  “No,” Isaac said. “I’m not quite strong enough to be out where people are drinking a lot in front of me. But I don’t care if you drink.”

  “Is that why you keep skipping parties with your teammates?”

  “Yeah, but I also would prefer to spend time with you.”

  Tim smiled and sank into Isaac’s arms. Isaac was warm, and he wore a soft T-shirt and sweatpants. Tim loved sinking into this comfortable space with him. He laid his head on Isaac’s shoulder and snuggled up close. “My parents talked about you a lot during dinner. Meeting you was the second-most-exciting thing that happened to them today.”

  Isaac laughed. “I hope their son winning an Olympic medal was the first.”

  “Yeah. It’s going to make telling them we’re together especially interesting. I guess that can wait until after the platform final.”

  Tim yawned. God, he was tired. He completely understood all those nights Isaac had fallen asleep before they’d gotten the opportunity to fool around much. Now that he was here, in Isaac’s arms, surrounded by his scent and his warmth, Tim could easily close his eyes and sink into sleep.

  “Seriously, though,” Isaac said. “Are you okay? You looked upset after the last dive.”

  No. Things were not okay. But how to explain?

  “It just…. Everything kind of hit me all at once. Like I’d been holding in all my emotions through the whole competition, and when we got to the end, I didn’t have the strength to hold them in anymore.” Tim paused to think about how to express what he felt. “First, I kept telling myself that it didn’t matter whether I won or lost because I wanted to defend my platform title more. Springboard isn’t my specialty, so making the final felt like a fluke. But I dove well today—really well. I guess I didn’t know how much I wanted that medal until it ended, and then I was…. I felt so disappointed. I kept second-guessing myself. Like, if I’d had more faith, I could have done better. If I’d taken the competition more seriously, I could have at least beat Perez. I’ve beaten Perez a dozen times before. But he was good today, and I was less than perfect, and….” The tears came then; everything Tim had been holding on to all day leaked out and ran down his cheeks. “I was disappointed. In myself more than anything.”

  Isaac gave Tim a little squeeze. “You realize that you’re still the third-best springboard diver in the whole goddamn world, right?”

  “I know!” Tim felt his grip on his temper, on everything he felt, slipping away. He didn’t want to yell at Isaac, but he felt so irritated and frustrated. “And I felt bad for feeling bad that I only won a bronze. I mean, I won an Olympic medal. I won my second Olympic medal in a week. And the gold was totally out of my grasp because Wao killed it today. I have it in me to dive like that on my best days, but I’m rarely that perfect in competition, and I just…. I don’t know. Like I said, I’m disappointed in myself. I could have been better.”

  Isaac stroked Tim’s back and made little comforting noises.

  But Isaac wasn’t getting it. “I feel so ungrateful,” Tim went on, really crying now. He leaned against Isaac. “I don’t know why I’m reacting this way. I should be happy. I’ve been handed this amazing opportunity that so few people get. I have a supportive family. I have the money to keep training. Only thirty-six male divers in the whole world qualified for this competition, and only a third of those made the final. I won a bronze medal, which is an incredibly difficult thing to do. I should be grateful.” Tim pressed his face against Isaac’s chest, Isaac’s T-shirt absorbing the tears. He felt so melodramatic, but he needed to say this too. “And my parents were so proud. They were so happy for me. So I had to hide how disappointed I was, and how stupid I felt for being that disappointed, all through dinner.” God. It was all one big knot that made Tim feel ridiculous. But he’d expressed himself honestly and was glad at least he had someone he could be that honest with.

  Isaac was quiet for a few moments. He simply held Tim and stroked his back. Then he said, “I know that feeling.”

  “Yeah?” The word came out sounding watery.

  “Yeah. Last Olympics. That silver I won while hungover. I mean, the circumstances were different, but I went through that same thing. If only I hadn’t drunk so much the night before, if I hadn’t taken my talent for granted the way I had, if I’d focused instead of being a cocky asshole, I would have won that gold medal. But I tied the Olympic record and swam the fourth-fastest time recorded that year. I still did something extraordinary. That whole Olympics, I swam really well. And I felt like complete shit afterwards.”

  Tim took a deep breath. Isaac was right, the circumstances were different, and Tim realized that Isaac’s unease with his own behavior was partly what had probably driven him to drink more. But the fact that Isaac understood how Tim felt right now was amazing. Probably no one else on the planet would get it, but Tim believed that Isaac did.

  “I hate this feeling,” Tim said.

  Isaac hugged him close. “I know. But here’s the thing. You have another chance this week. Don’t let it defeat you. Take it for what it is and go for redemption in your next final. Give that next series of dives everything you have. Even if you don’t win the gold, even if the Chinese divers earn all 10s and you only earn 9.5s, it doesn’t matter if you put all you have into it. The disappointment comes from knowing you could have done more but didn’t, so do everything you can. Leave nothing behind.” Isaac took a deep breath, and his chest rose and fell below Tim’s cheek. “Be grateful you don’t have the switch in you that makes you act out when things go like this.”

  “Drinking, you mean?”

  “Yeah. What you feel right now? I’ve felt that a lot. Even when I won, I second-guessed myself. Like, if I’d pushed myself harder or, hell, been sober the whole meet, would I have won and also broken a world record? Could I have swum a personal best time if I’d given it my all? And why didn’t I? Why did I assume that I should have won just because I’m Isaac fucking Flood?” Isaac sighed again. “Last week was my redemption, you know? I gave those races everything I had. In some of them, I felt like my body might fly apart, I pushed it so hard. After I won the 200 breast, I puked in the locker room. I’ve been sober for a year and a half and I trained my ass off and I put everything I had in me in that pool. And even if I hadn’t won, I would have been okay with that, because I tried my hardest. Luke won the 400 free, and I’m okay with that, because I couldn’t have given that race any more. That’s what this Games has been for me.”

  Tim lifted his head and looked Isaac in the eyes. “You have no regrets about this week?”

  “Nope. Not one. And I don’t want to see you regret anything either. So give the platform competition your all, okay? And win a gold medal for me, would you?”

  Tim laughed. “I’m glad you get it.”

  “I think there are only a handful of people in the world who do.”

  “I wish you’d been there with me today. It was hard to pretend to be happy with my parents.”

  Isaac pulled him close again. “I’m here now.”

  “Yeah. You’re…. Thanks.” Tim pressed his face into the space where Isaac’s neck met his shoulders. Isaac smelled a little sweaty and a little like minty toothpaste, but Tim liked it. And he’d have to figure out a way to get Isaac to come with him to Colorado, because he could not give this up. “Thank you, Isaac.”

  “You’re welcome.” Isaac took another deep breath. “I figure, what’s the use of going through what I did if I can’t hel
p others avoid the same fate?”

  “Yeah?” Tim sensed Isaac wasn’t just talking about the two of them.

  “Yeah. I’m starting to think that’s part of my purpose. Like, when I was drowning myself in cheap beer, I could have died. I almost did a few times. I did some incredibly stupid, dangerous things. And I think, you know, if there’s some kind of higher power? I think he had a reason for rescuing me. I know that’s some twelve-steps shit, but… I can’t swim forever or my body will fall to pieces, but I can help people. Coach, maybe. Become a mentor. I don’t know. But my experience has value, I think.”

  “It does, you’re right.” Tim yawned again. “Before I fall back to sleep, I have something to tell you.”

  “Pat’s in Madrid.”

  Tim jerked away, fully awake now. “How do you know that?”

  “He was in the stands. He came up to talk to your parents just before Luke dragged me away. I still think I could have taken him.”

  Tim laughed despite how tense he felt. “He came to see me at America House tonight.”

  Isaac pressed his lips together and nodded. “What did he say? No, you don’t have to tell me.”

  “Isaac, I do have to tell you.” Tim wrapped his hand around Isaac’s forearm. “He showed up all apologies. He said he came to see me at the Olympics to make up for all the times he missed my meets in the past, because he wants to be with me again.” He rolled his eyes.

  “Oh,” Isaac said. He seemed disappointed in that. “Do you think he meant it?”

  “He seemed sincere, but I—oh, Isaac, no.” Tim shook his head. “I’m not getting back together with him. There’s a reason I’m here with you now and not with him. So banish whatever you’re thinking from your mind.”

  Isaac smiled faintly. “That dickbag really came to Madrid to try to win you back?”

  “Apparently. I told him to go home. He’s too much of a distraction here.”

  “Will he?”

  “Remains to be seen.” Tim sighed and sank down beside Isaac. Seeing Pat had been horrific. He’d waited somewhere until Tim’s parents had left to return to their hotel; then he’d swooped into America House, signed a few autographs, and gone right to Tim to plead his case.