Cleats in Clay Read online

  She topped off his glass with the last of the wine. “It’s all right, Bobby. I’m sure Nathan’s trying to prove with all his theatrics that he wants you to move on. You should.”

  Bobby swirled his glass, watching the circular movement of the wine.

  “When are you going back?” Sharon asked.

  “Once the commission stuff is done. Maybe Friday, if we close it up fast. I’m meeting with some lawyers in the morning.”

  “Then I shouldn’t keep you up late.” Sharon patted his hand. “I’ll miss you, you know.”

  “I’ll only be gone for the weekend.”

  Sharon gave him a studied look. “If you say so. But if there is something there, you should pursue it. Nate might just crawl out of the grave and drag you there himself if you don’t.”

  Bobby scowled at the zombie movie image that formed in his head. “From what I’ve been learning about him, he just might.”

  “Then don’t piss him off.” Sharon stood up and took one last glance at the note. “I’m off, then. Good luck with the lawyers.”

  “Thanks.” Bobby escorted her to the door and locked it behind her. He set the security alarm and cleaned up the kitchen. After putting the cryptic note back into the brass box, he snatched it up and went upstairs, where he left it on the nightstand in the spare bedroom. He studied that strange design as he stripped out of his clothes and got ready for bed.

  The thought of calling Odis did enter his mind as he crawled under the covers, but drowsiness from the wine dragged him into sleep before he could sit up again.

  MORNING sun rudely invaded his room again. Bobby had once again forgotten to close the blinds the previous night. He got up, dressed conservatively, then went to the early morning legal meeting, which turned into a long day of “hurry up and wait.”

  After a brief greeting from a prim lady named Ms. Gentry when he first arrived at the legal office, Bobby was left sitting in the lobby for nearly twenty minutes until a young man, hardly more than a kid, pranced up to collect him. “We’re in conference room two,” he said over his shoulder as he quickly led Bobby down the hall.

  Inside the conference room waited Ms. Gentry and another presumed lawyer, who jumped to his feet and introduced himself. “I’m Mike Horbath; we spoke on the phone yesterday. Please grab some coffee or snacks from the buffet and have a seat,” he said while motioning to the table of donuts and croissants near the corner.

  After getting a croissant and sitting at the table, Bobby exhaled sharply. “I don’t want this to turn into another big thing. I’ve decided to just take their settlement.”

  “If that’s what you want,” Mike said while trying to hide his disappointment. “We’ll respect your wishes not to chase it. Let’s start by you explaining what they’ve offered so far.”

  Bobby described the previous phone calls from the commission and some of the ideas he’d spoken with Odis about. The lawyers got very excited when he mentioned the Monday-morning phone call he got while in Texas. Mike jotted down a few quick details and rushed from the room with Ms. Gentry, leaving Bobby feeling abandoned and a touch nervous.

  “Don’t worry,” the kid said when he saw the concern on Bobby’s face. “You’re in good hands here.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Our firm is part of the Lambda Legal Group. We take LGBT issues very seriously.” When his phone buzzed, the kid glanced down at it briefly. “I need to step out for a minute. Anything you need or that I can get…?” he asked with a tiny hopeful glint in his eye.

  “No, I’m fine,” Bobby told him.

  The kid got up and nearly ran out of the room while fiddling with his phone, leaving Bobby to sit alone.

  He was beginning to feel lost and forgotten until Ms. Gentry poked her head in the door. “Apologies for the wait. We’re still on the phone. I can send Kyle back in if you need anything?”

  “No, I’m doing okay,” Bobby told her as he got up and returned to the buffet for another cup of coffee.

  He started to get a bit aggravated after another hour passed. He glanced up when the door opened again. Kyle breezed in with a handful of bags and deftly yanked out containers of food. “I thought you might want some lunch.”

  Bobby took one of the Styrofoam containers, smelling the bread and meat. He opened it to find a club sandwich fashioned from flatbread, with a helping of turkey and a container of mayo on the side.

  “Wasn’t sure if you’re veggie, so had ’em put that stuff on the side.”

  Bobby loaded the meat and mayo into the sandwich. “I’m not.” He took a big bite.

  Kyle smiled as he took a bite from his own sandwich. “Seems like so many people are nowadays. Always have to think ahead.”

  “Thank you for the lunch. What’s taking so long, do you know?”

  “Oh, you know how these things are.” Kyle shrugged. “I’m sorry, maybe you don’t. This is the arguing-back-and-forth-until-somebody-blinks stage,” he said cheerfully.

  Bobby glanced over at the twinky-looking Kyle. “How long have you worked here?”

  “Oh, I’m still on internship. I hope I get to stay, though. I really like kicking ass for the cause, you know.”

  Bobby chuckled. “I don’t know much about this legal stuff. Do you know why they got so excited when I mentioned that phone call Monday?”

  “Dude,” Kyle said with a hand flourish. “That’s, like, so far into the gray side of ethical, trying to railroad you into a quickie meeting and all.” Kyle grinned. “I’m sure they’re making the most out of that leverage.”

  “Humph,” Bobby said, then almost chuckled at himself. “If I’d been in town, though, I probably would have just gone to the meeting.”

  “So glad you didn’t.” Kyle finished inhaling his sandwich. “I’m the one that’s been pestering them to get your case. I’m a big baseball fan, and I want to make sure you’re taken care of.”

  Bobby glanced over at him again. “You play?”

  “Shortstop. Started with T-ball way back forever ago and played all the way up through high school. Decided to focus on studies in college, so I didn’t play any ball at Harvard.”

  Bobby thought about the kid’s quick reflexes and agility. “I bet you did well with that.”

  “Passable. My batting always sucked, though, so didn’t consider getting serious.” Kyle gazed over at him. “I play for the Rainbow League now. You ever thought about joining us?”

  Bobby shook his head. “It wouldn’t seem fair, being a pro and all.”

  Kyle gazed at him with his cutest smile. “I’d love to have you… join the League, I mean.”

  Bobby smiled back politely. He appreciated the flirting, but even without Odis in the picture, such a young kid didn’t arouse his interest. “I’m just too old for that now,” he said gently, trying not to squelch Kyle too forcefully.

  “Damn shame.” Kyle sighed. “I bet you’ve got plenty of miles left in that gas tank of yours.”

  “Well, even if I don’t play, it might be nice to go to some of the games.”

  “That would be awesome. Just look us up on the Internet. You can find all the schedules and stuff there. It would mean a lot to the players if you did visit.”

  “Then I’ll definitely look into it.”

  Kyle started to say something else, but the door opening interrupted him. Mike and Ms. Gentry scurried back in, both wearing huge grins. “I think you’ll be happy,” Mike told Bobby.

  “What happened?”

  Mike tried to look more serious. “First off, if you accept this, then it’s a done deal. You just need to drop by here in the morning for some paperwork to officialize everything.”

  “What was the offer?” Kyle cut in.

  Ms. Gentry spoke up as she passed a sheet of paper to Bobby. “Besides the substantial cash settlement, we got a section of box seats in the stadium to be renamed the Nathan Price Box, in which you have the first row of eight seats permanently reserved. They have also agreed to add sensitivity
seminars as part of spring training. For management too, not just the players.”

  Bobby’s eyes bugged out when he saw all the zeros in the settlement number. “This…,” he said while shaking his head.

  “Dude,” Kyle said, “I’m sure they could get more, but you said you didn’t want a big fight.”

  “No. I mean, this is too much. I don’t need all of this.” Bobby shook his head. “What the hell am I gonna do with so much money?”

  Kyle smiled. “Is there anything else you do want?”

  “No. The box seats are a nice touch.”

  “Thanks.” Mike beamed. “That was my idea.”

  Kyle took the paper from Bobby. “If you don’t want anything else, then take the offer.”

  Bobby glanced around at the expectant faces. “Okay,” he said while nodding slightly.

  “Let’s get it set in stone, then,” Mike cheered as he and Ms. Gentry left the room again.

  Kyle scooted his chair closer to Bobby. He smiled hesitantly. “I’m almost afraid to bring this up now. I don’t want you to think I’m just a shark smelling blood in the water.”

  “What?” Bobby asked softly.

  “If you don’t want this money, the idea of charity is bound to cross your mind. I’d like to give you something to think about in that regard.”

  “Okay.”

  “Let me tell you what the Rainbow League is really all about. Sure, we have lots of fun playing baseball with mostly gay and lesbian players, but everybody covers their own costs for uniforms and such. The real goal for the League is that all profits from the gate and concessions go to support the Rainbow Camp.”

  “Rainbow Camp?”

  “It’s kind of a summer camp social experiment. We aim for LGBT and urban kids to have two weeks at a facility together in the Appalachians. We try, especially for the urban kids, to get as many scholarships as we can, so they can come at no cost.”

  “Queer and urban kids together? How do you keep it from turning ugly?”

  Kyle smiled. “That’s where the experiment part comes in. Most of the LGBT kids are fourteen to eighteen, since they don’t usually come out sooner than that, but we try and get the urban kids as young as four or five. We’re hoping that by reaching out to them that young, the urban kids can see the greater opportunities and options they might not see otherwise. Those options could help keep them off that ugly road of drugs and gangs they’ll be confronted with later in life. And the LGBT kids get the self-esteem of being mentors for the younger ones.”

  “Wow,” Bobby said with a grin. “And that really works?”

  “This will be our sixth summer. And it’s going great so far. We had to turn away about twelve kids last year because the place we rented wasn’t big enough. I actually sponsored three of the kids out of my own pocket.”

  “That’s definitely something to think about.”

  Kyle patted him on the shoulder. “Then go look up our website—there’s lots more info there—and give it some consideration. And not just for the money, either. We can also use counselors and supervisors, especially ones with sports backgrounds. Your story could be very inspiring for the kids.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Bobby said with a shrug.

  Kyle patted Bobby’s shoulder again as he stood. “Just something to think about.” He started toward the door. “Let me check if they need you anymore. Back in a sec.”

  Bobby grabbed the paper off the table again and stared at what seemed like an incredibly, gigantically huge number.

  Kyle returned. “You’re done. Come by about ten o’clock tomorrow and we’ll finish it up.”

  “Thanks.” Bobby shook Kyle’s hand as he approached the door. “And I’ll look over that website too.”

  Kyle smiled. “Oh, and happy birthday,” he yelled as Bobby headed down the hall.

  Chapter 11

  BOBBY passed through the flimsy boarding tunnel and entered the Amarillo airport in the early evening on Friday. Gaining an extra hour as they flew across the country made the flight seem pleasantly shorter. Clutching his duffel bag close, he glanced around the open hallway past the boarding area at the overhead signs, looking for the arrows pointing to baggage claim. This time he’d decided to pack—maybe too much, he’d thought while dragging the stuffed suitcase into the Boston airport hours before, but he didn’t want to be caught short again.

  Following the signs, Bobby made his way downstairs to the carousel. The long-sleeved western shirt seemed a bit warm now that he was in Texas, and he hoped he wasn’t sweating too much as he and the other passengers formed a tired arc of bodies around the empty curve, waiting for the luggage to arrive. The belt started with a lurch, and the bags soon appeared one after the other.

  Bobby spotted his garment bag right away and claimed it. He was focusing on the revolving belt, watching for his blue Samsonite, when someone tapped him on the shoulder. “Mr. Lane?”

  Putting on his public smile, Bobby turned slightly, still trying to keep his eyes on the luggage parade. It wasn’t unusual for him to be recognized in public. Many people who weren’t baseball fans remembered him from the series of silly and humorous commercials he did for his watch company sponsor over the years. “Yes. That’s me.”

  “Sorry.” The low baritone voice of his audience nearly cooed with his Texas drawl. “Don’t mean to be distractin’ ya. I’ll wait ’til ya fetch yer bags.”

  “Thanks.” Bobby nodded, turning his attention away from the uniformed man and back to the belt. It was a brief wait before he spotted his blue suitcase. He walked over and grabbed it off the carousel.

  “Let me,” the baritone man said from behind, taking the Samsonite from Bobby’s grasp and lifting the suitcase away as easily as though it weighed a mere pound. “Any more?”

  Bobby bristled and puffed out his chest as he looked up at the big man who had just stolen his bag. He relaxed a bit when he saw the Bruien County Sheriff Department patch on the arm of the brown uniform. He glanced up at the face of the tall officer and for a brief second thought he recognized him. But of course he couldn’t have—he’d never met this graying-blond man before. “No, that’s the only suitcase,” Bobby said, maybe a little harshly. “Can I have it back now?”

  “Hell, I’m sorry,” the officer said as he set the case on the floor next to Bobby. “I’m bein’ a rude-ass.” He put out his hand. “I’m Tucker Krickson. A friend of Odie’s.”

  Bobby took his hand and shook it. “Tuck, right? Odis and Gertie did mention you.” Bobby tried to ignore that warm little zing he felt as he held Tuck’s hand. He smiled slightly as he released the handshake. The demeanor of this handsome and mature man pushed the needle of his gaydar alarm high into the suspicious zone. “What brings you to the airport?”

  “Came up to give ya a lift to save ya getting a rental car.”

  Bobby picked up his suitcase and started looking for signs leading to the rental car area. “You didn’t need to do that,” he said over his shoulder as he moved west toward where the signs pointed. “I already have a car reserved.”

  “No point in wastin’ your money.” Tuck hurried around and got in front of him. “I ain’t takin’ no for an answer,” he said, bearing down on Bobby with his commanding cop stare. “I’ll drive you. I didn’t get to meet you last time you’s in town.”

  “Fine.” Bobby wilted. He was just too tired to argue with this formidable man.

  Tuck snatched the suitcase handle from Bobby’s hand. Bobby again noticed that warm tingle in his fingers when Tuck’s hand brushed up against his. “This way.”

  Bobby followed Tuck into the parking lot. He recognized the doodad-adorned tan SUV as they approached it. Bobby let out a chuckle. “We did meet last time I was here. Well, you glared at me, anyway.”

  Tuck opened the SUV’s back door and stowed the luggage. “When was this?”

  “When I was driving out to Odis’s the first day. I was in the Chevy you passed on the gravel road.” Bobby walked around to the pass
enger door. Tuck had already unlocked it with his electronic key ring, so Bobby climbed in. The tantalizing smells of musky man, leather, and coffee wafting in the warm air teased his nose as he buckled in. He inhaled the pleasant scents as he set the duffel on the floor in front of his feet.

  Tuck jumped into the driver’s seat and put on his seat belt. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to glare, if I did. I was rankled with myself.” Tuck started the SUV and pulled out of the lot.

  “Why?”

  “I’d been too busy fiddlin’ with the radio to notice ya on the road and only happened to glance up at the last second. Almost ran ya over.”

  “No harm done.”

  “I almost stopped to jump out and apologize to ya. If I’d known who was drivin’, I woulda.”

  Tuck navigated the streets and soon had them cruising down the interstate highway. Because he hadn’t said anything else, Bobby glanced over at Tuck. “Where’s your hat?”

  “Only wear it when I’m on duty. If I have it on too long, it gives me bad hat hair,” Tuck replied with a smirky scowl.

  Ding, ding, ding went the gaydar. Bobby smiled as he gazed out the windshield.

  As they drove in silence again, the tension seemed to grow more pronounced. Bobby couldn’t interpret the expression he saw on Tuck’s face the few times he chanced another long glance at the man.

  The silence seemed to almost solidify around them the farther they drove. Bobby finally had to say something to try to break the tension. “So, you’ve been friends with Odis a long time?”

  Laughing maybe a little nervously, Tuck smiled warmly. “Yeah, ya could say that.”

  Bobby waited, but Tuck never elaborated. He finally asked, “How long?”

  “I’m only three months older than Odie, so since we’s in diapers, most likely. We grew up in the same grades, same Boy Scouts, same Sunday school… just forever.”

  “Almost like a brother?” Bobby asked.

  Tuck’s face tightened. “Don’t go sayin’ a thing like that. We ain’t never been brothers.”