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Second Wind

Page 11

by Aimee Nicole Walker


  “You need to make time,” she said. “Ophelia sure does.”

  “Mom,” I said in a warning tone. “All I want is for Phee to be happy.”

  “That’s all I want for you too.” She smiled sweetly at me across the table. “I’d love for you to meet a nice girl and…” Her voice trailed off. I figured my facial expression mirrored the emotional upheaval occurring inside of me. “Lincoln, what is it?”

  “What if I want to meet a nice guy instead?”

  Mom didn’t say anything, didn’t even move except to blink. She just sat there with her fork suspended in the air. When she closed her eyes briefly, I wondered if it was because she couldn’t look at me any longer. Tears seeped from the corners of her eyes and ran down her cheeks.

  “Mom, I…” My voice broke; I couldn’t say anything else.

  My mom slowly opened her eyes and set her fork down. I was relieved that I didn’t see disgust in her eyes, but she couldn’t hide her sadness.

  “I think I always knew,” she finally said. “How could I not see how crazy you were about Rush? The two of you were inseparable in ways that extended beyond friendship. I knew it then but was afraid for you. I prayed every night that I was wrong and that your father would never find out. God seemed to answer my prayers when you met Ophelia the first week of college.” She paused and swallowed hard. “It wasn’t real though, was it? You were trying to live a life not meant for you. That was so wrong of me, Lincoln.” Mom reached for my hands across the table; I met her halfway. “I should’ve never prayed for something so cruel, but I can’t regret my beautiful grandbabies. You’re a remarkable father, Lincoln. I’m so proud of you.”

  “I’ll never regret them either. Kennedy and Holden are my heart and soul, Mom,” I said in a raspy voice as tears streamed down my face. “Or Ophelia. She’s my best friend, and I can’t imagine a world without her. So, instead of us wasting time on regrets, let’s just say that things worked out the way they were intended to all along. We can’t turn back the clock, but we can make sure we never repeat past mistakes. How does that sound?”

  “I think a hug is in order,” Mom said. I rounded the table and held her tight as silent, grateful tears continued to fall. I wasn’t foolish enough to believe that my news would’ve received the same amount of acceptance when I was younger, but I meant what I said about not wasting precious time on regrets. “So, have you met any nice guys?” she asked against my chest.

  I pulled back and looked into her smiling eyes. “Not yet. I decided that I needed to come clean to you and the kids first.”

  “Ophelia knows?”

  “Yeah, she found out the weekend we came home for the funeral.” Then I told my mom about Granddad’s ammo box and the keepsakes it held. “Phee took one look at the photos and knew my secret.”

  “She took it well, I assume.”

  “Yeah, but I think it helped that she was already smitten with Jackson,” I teased. “She just wants to see me happy.”

  “That’s all anyone will want for you, including Kennedy and Holden.” My mom tipped her head to the side. “Does Phee know that you named your son after your first love?”

  “She does now,” I said sheepishly. “I’m glad she wasn’t upset. I tried to be a good husband to her, I really did.”

  “No regrets,” my mom said before patting my face. “Remember that.”

  After dinner, I decided to tackle all my demons by visiting my favorite haunts as a kid. Scoops was packed, so I drove on out to the high school. Not much had changed since I moved away, except that the football field was turf instead of the natural grass I played on. I climbed the old concrete stadium steps and sat down at the fifty-yard line. I closed my eyes and was transported back in time to when I was the king of the gridiron, leading my team to two consecutive state championships. I heard the roar of the crowd, the marching band playing our fight song, and felt the eyes of the town on me as I took my position on the field. There was only one pair of eyes that I cared about though. I knew that Rush was standing somewhere on the sidelines taking pictures for the school paper and the yearbook. I felt his focus, and it made me strut a little bit more after each touchdown.

  Thoughts of the victories reminded me of the way we celebrated—hot kisses, even hotter touches, and one of us buried deep inside the other. Nothing in my life had ever felt so right, and I realized I still hadn’t been truthful with my mom. I had one regret: Rush. I regretted letting him get away from me and never knowing what became of him. I regretted that I never let him know how much he meant to me. Even years later, he was the one person I could never forget, no matter how much time had passed or how hard I tried. Lord knows I gave it my best, but Rush would come to me in the quietest or scariest moments. I would remember to be brave like him. I could’ve easily tracked him down with modern technology, but I didn’t feel that I had the right. I also knew that I couldn’t stomach seeing him happy with someone else. How fucking unfair was that? I went on to have a life without him; I couldn’t expect him to wait twenty-six fucking years for me to get my head out of my ass.

  I stopped by Scoops and picked up two strawberry milkshakes to take back to my mom’s condo. I planned to crash on her couch for the night and begin the drive to Chicago early the next morning in the rental I picked up at the airport. I could’ve flown into O’Hare, but I thought the road trip might do me some good, not to mention, delay the awkward conversation I planned to have with my kids.

  Even though Scoops was still busy, it was a younger crowd and no one there seemed to recognize me. I was relieved because I wasn’t in the mood for small talk and catching up since I wanted to get an early start. I had just about made it back to my car when I heard someone calling my name. It was a voice I’d never forget. I turned and looked into the eyes of the man I owed my success to, in one way or another.

  “Coach Holden,” I said, plastering a fake smile on my face. He was the last person I wanted to see. “How are you, sir?”

  “Fit as a fiddle,” he said then his face sobered. “I was truly sorry to hear about your daddy. Alice and I were away on a ten-day anniversary cruise and didn’t return until after his funeral. He was a good man, Lincoln.”

  “Thank you, Coach.” I wasn’t sure what else to say to the man. I hadn’t talked to him since I graduated college and the silence between us felt awkward. I held up my hands to show the milkshakes. “A little treat for my mom. I helped her move into her new condo today.”

  “You’re such a good son. Too bad they’re not all like you.” His voice dripped with bitterness and disgust.

  My heart sank because I knew he was talking about Rush. I’d heard the scuttlebutt the first time I came home from college. Rush and Jules left town and never looked back. My parents refrained from commenting out of respect for my friendship with Rush, but a few of my old high school teammates had no problem flapping their gums. The man who stood in front of me supposedly told Rush that he’d rather his son die than be gay. I had no way of knowing if it was true, but I wouldn’t put it past the man.

  I stood up straighter, towering over the older man. “Some parents don’t deserve the kids God blessed them with either. Some kids are better off to leave town and never look back. Goodnight, Coach.” I left him standing there staring at me with a shocked expression on his face. No one ever dared to talk back to the mean son of a bitch. I fumed all the way back to my mom’s house, thinking of all the other things I should’ve said to him.

  My mom was waiting for me when I walked through the door. “Oh, a milkshake. Please tell me it’s strawberry.”

  “I haven’t forgotten,” I told her.

  “What’s wrong?” Mom’s brow furrowed into a deep V as she looked at me. “I’ve seen thunderstorms that were tamer than the expression you’re wearing on your face right now.”

  I recalled my encounter with the coach for my mom and repeated what I’d heard all those years ago about Rush and Jules.

  “It’s true,” my mom said softly. “Alice
told me herself. I don’t think she ever got over it.”

  “She must not be too torn up about it if she’s taking cruises,” I tossed out there.

  “I think she’s doing the best she can to cope, Linc. You saw how domineering your father could be at times, and Butch Holden was a thousand times worse. I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for Rush to live under his roof.”

  “Who does he think he is discarding his kids then daring to bitch about them?”

  “He’s not a good man, but I don’t think your father would’ve been much different. I want to say that I would’ve stood up for you and told your father to go to hell, but I just don’t know. God, I can’t stand the thought of losing you like that.”

  I pulled my mom tight against me and rested my chin on her head, uncaring that our milkshakes were rapidly melting. “Shhh, Mom. Let’s not waste precious time on what might’ve been. We’re okay now, and that’s what matters.”

  “Okay,” she said tearfully. “I know that you’re right.”

  We ended up eating popcorn and watching reruns of Magnum PI for a few hours before we both got too tired to keep our eyes open after the long day.

  “I had such a crush on Magnum,” my mom said.

  “So did I.”

  We burst into a fit of giggles at my confession. “Well, at least you have good taste in men.”

  “We’ll see if that still holds true,” I said.

  “Have faith, my son.”

  I left my mom’s house at five the next morning to get a jump on my nearly five-hundred-and-forty-mile journey. I didn’t want to wake her, so I left her a long, heartfelt note about how much I loved her and appreciated her support, ending the letter with no regrets. The drive was supposed to take just over eight hours, but it ended up taking closer to ten due to car accidents and traffic jams.

  I hadn’t bothered calling the kids ahead of time because I didn’t want them to freak out. The last time I showed up unannounced was when Phee and I told them we were getting a divorce. My news would be equally as big, but there was no need to stress them out before I even arrived.

  I booked a room at the Ritz Carlton and planned to order room service and crash early. Once in my room, I couldn’t tear my eyes off the Centennial Wheel on the pier. I couldn’t look at any Ferris wheel without thinking about Rush and remembering the moment I knew what love and bravery were all about.

  I suddenly felt an invisible pull to go to the pier and ride the damn thing. No, Rush wouldn’t be with me in person, but the memory of him would be. I walked the short distance and bought tickets for the Centennial Wheel. The pier was packed with families and friends just looking to have a good time and enjoy the beautiful June weather before the serious humidity hit later in the month.

  I felt a little silly as I approached the long line by myself, but I passed the time by texting Phee and checking my email. The line had suddenly stopped advancing, and I wondered if the ride broke down or something. Then I heard the chatter about newlyweds posing for photos with the grand Ferris wheel in the background.

  “Look how handsome the grooms look,” someone said.

  “It so good that people don’t have to hide any longer,” another person added.

  I stepped out of line to see for myself, and my heart thudded to a stop in my chest before it raced with recognition. It wasn’t the grooms that held me spellbound; it was the photographer. I’d know that stance anywhere because I sure as hell had seen it enough times growing up. The camera he held in his hand was a lot different and more expensive than the ones he used to own, but the way he stood and cradled it like a rare treasure was all the same. Rush! But how was this possible? My mind had to be playing tricks on me. This moment was nothing but a fantasy brought on by all the trips down memory lane I’d made the past twenty-four hours. I would wake up to find that I fell asleep in the hotel room instead of walking to the pier.

  There was no way in hell that Rush, my Rush, was a few hundred feet away from me. It had to be someone who resembled him. The photographer turned around and smiled at something his assistant said to him. I started walking toward him without stopping to think if I should. For the first time in more than twenty-six years, my world felt right. My Rush.

  It felt like I’d caught my second wind.

  “Um, don’t look now, but some hottie is heading toward us with a determined look in his eyes,” Nigel said.

  “He’s not packing a weapon, is he?”

  “What’s your definition of a weapon?” Nigel asked suggestively.

  “The lethal kind.” The intrigue I heard in my assistant’s voice made me curious, so I glanced up to check out the situation. My breath caught in my throat when I looked into familiar dark eyes. “I don’t fucking believe it.” I had to be dreaming, but my racing heart told me it was real. Fate wouldn’t be that cruel to me. I handed my camera to Nigel before I dropped it.

  My obligations were temporarily forgotten as I walked to Lincoln with joyful laughter spilling out of me. He opened his arms wide, and I landed hard against his broad chest. I circled my arms around his waist at the same time those strong arms wrapped around my shoulders.

  “I can’t believe it,” we said at the same time then laughed like we did when we were kids. And if that wasn’t enough, we both said, “Jinx.”

  “Okay, now it’s getting ridiculous,” I teased.

  “What’s ridiculous is that it’s taken me more than two decades to see you again,” Lincoln countered.

  I pulled back enough to look into Lincoln’s warm gaze and welcoming smile. I closed my eyes against the swiftly rising emotions that threatened to consume me and rob me of the ability to speak. I pressed my forehead against his and said, “It has been too many years, but my heart would recognize you anywhere, Linc.”

  “As would mine,” Lincoln said huskily. He chuckled then pulled back from me slightly. “Perhaps I should’ve asked permission to hug you instead of mauling you.”

  “I pretty much launched myself into your arms, so I obviously welcomed your robust greeting.”

  The rest of the world was all but forgotten as we stood there staring into each other’s eyes and smiling like goons. Nothing had felt so right since the last time Linc held me in his arms and slowly spun me around that empty classroom. Jesus, I hoped our parting was so much sweeter than it was the last time.

  “Um, excuse me,” Nigel said from behind me. “I hate to break this up, but the grooms have a reception to get to.”

  Lincoln reluctantly lowered his arms. I turned to face my assistant without putting too much space between us. I wanted to feel his body heat radiating off him even though it was eighty-five degrees. I found it comforting and familiar, not stifling. I just found Lincoln again and couldn’t stand the thought of parting from him already.

  “Hey, you take care of what you need to, and we’ll meet up later. That’s if you want to, I mean,” Lincoln added, sounding uncertain.

  “He does,” Nigel said.

  “I do,” I confirmed. Nigel stood looking expectantly between the two of us. I could tell he wanted an introduction, but I decided to torture him a little longer. “I’ll be tied up for the next hour or so, but I can meet you for dinner afterward.”

  “Sounds great. Where do you want to meet?”

  “There’s a diner called Jenn’s just down the way,” I pointed down the pier. “She makes the most incredible lasagna with sliced homemade meatballs in between the layers.” I looked at my watch and saw that it was almost four thirty. “I’m thinking no later than six thirty, but I can text or call if I finish earlier.”

  “Sounds perfect,” Lincoln said.

  We exchanged phone numbers and hugged once more. Neither of us wanted to let go, so we held tight to each other until Nigel cleared his throat impatiently. Without thinking, I pressed my lips to Lincoln’s for a brief kiss. For all I knew, he could’ve been married or in a relationship. His eyes darkened with desire just like always, and I had to leave while I still cou
ld.

  “See you soon, Linc.”

  “You can count on it,” he said as I walked away.

  “He’s not wearing a ring,” Nigel said out of the blue. “In case you were worried that you publicly mauled someone else’s man.” There was no censure in his voice, only joy. “Are you going to tell me who he is?”

  “Nope,” I teased. Nigel knew almost everything about my life, both past and present, but I’d never told him about Linc.

  “Okay,” he said calmly, which should’ve worried me. Nigel was the kind of person that had to know everything about everyone. Seconds later, I heard him ask, “Who was this Lincoln guy your brother was sucking face with at the pier when he was supposed to be taking wedding photos?”

  I turned my head fast enough to get a crick in my neck. That little shit!

  “Whaaaat?” I heard Jules yell through the phone. “Lincoln?”

  “Give me that.” I yanked the phone from Nigel’s hand.

  “What did he look like?” Jules asked, thinking she was still talking to Nigel.

  “Tall, dark, and very handsome,” I said. “He has a little gray at his temples and in his beard. Just fucking delicious.”

  “Oh, Rush. Is it really him?” I heard the happy tears in her voice.

  “It is, Jules. I couldn’t believe it when I looked up and saw Lincoln walking toward me.”

  “Sucking face? You don’t waste any time, little bro.”

  “Jules, it was one chaste peck on the lips.”

  “What’s Linc doing here?”

  “I don’t know,” I replied. “I didn’t have time to ask.”

  “You were too busy hugging and making moony eyes at each other,” Nigel said loud enough for Jules to hear too.

  “Moony eyes?” Jules and I both asked.

  “I’m meeting Linc after I finish this job.” I didn’t tell my sister where because I knew she’d hightail it downtown and crash our dinner… plans. I wasn’t sure the word date would apply since I knew nothing about Lincoln’s situation. I glared at Nigel and dared him to rat me out. He looked at me with wide-eyed innocence, but I wasn’t falling for his crap.

 

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