Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 158(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 158(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
“You don’t have to say this stuff. I don’t need it,” I lied.
“Well, I do. I can’t tell you how proud I am of you. I don’t have words. And it has nothing to do with the Olympics. Nothing at all. I’m proud of your determination, your drive, your sense of right and wrong. I’m proud of the fact that you never give up and that you’re willing to learn something new every day. I’m proud of you, Gabe. I’m proud of the man you’ve become. You have a good life. A nice home, good friends, a great career, and a partner who loves you. It doesn’t matter what happens in that pool in Japan, son. You’ve already won.”
Silence.
I honestly didn’t know what to say.
Sure, I wished he’d said even one or two of those things to me fifteen years ago, but…this was good.
“Thank you.” I cleared my throat.
His lopsided smile widened tentatively, then faded again. He looked away when his eyes welled.
“I’ve been told that I act without thinking, that I say the wrong things, and that I can be too intense. My teenagers don’t hesitate to put me in my place. And I guess…I thought you didn’t mind me. I thought we had our own understanding, and part of me didn’t think you needed me. I got it wrong, Gabe. I got it very wrong. And I am sorry. Very sorry. You might not forgive me, and I might not deserve it. But I’d like another chance. If that’s okay with you.”
I nodded in acknowledgment and stood with my hand outstretched. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah, let’s try again.”
Dad leaped to his feet and pulled me into a monster hug. When it ended, he clapped me on the shoulder bro-style, then looked around the room as if hoping to find a conversational diversion.
“Well…”
“Hang on.” I moved toward the fireplace and set my hands on my hips. “Listen…everything can’t be on your terms only. I’m not a kid. I can’t bend over backward to make you happy. The only person who gets that part of me is Derek.”
Dad nodded. “Good. I like him. He’s a good man.”
“He’s the best. And he’ll probably be sitting next to you in the stands in Tokyo, so you might want to make friends with him.”
“Not a problem. We’ve already bonded over chocolate tarts and French toast.” He moved to the front door and turned with his hand on the knob. “Hey, Gabe…I love you. See ya soon, son.”
I raised my hand to wave, but I couldn’t make my feet move. I was a little choked up and a lot overwhelmed. I didn’t think he’d ever told me he loved me. Ever. And yeah, it might be late in the game, but damn, I’d take it.
I was at the fucking Olympics.
No, I was competing in the fucking Olympics and living my dream.
Sort of.
One minute and three seconds on the clock, and the score was two to ten. Yikes. This wasn’t looking good.
I’d been kicked in the gut, held underwater, and gouged on my side and back. Anyone who said water polo looked easy had no fucking clue that it was a free-for-all. If the refs didn’t see it, it didn’t happen. Needless to say, I was exhausted and my right shoulder hurt like a motherfucker.
But I didn’t care. I was an Olympic athlete, folks. If the next minute was all I had, I’d enjoy every bit of it. I’d have plenty of time to ice up and moan about my injuries when the final whistle blew.
I adjusted my cap as I sucked in a lungful of air and scanned the pavilion, allowing myself one more “pinch me” moment. Win or lose, I’d made it.
I remembered watching the Olympics on television when I was five years old. My dad had a friend who’d played goalie for the Italian team and a couple of other buddies who’d played for the US. He’d pointed them out on the TV set and told me that one day, if I worked hard, I could go to the Olympics. I’d had no idea what that meant, but he’d seemed pretty pumped up at the prospect. Personally, I’d been very taken with the pageantry…so much so that I started paying close attention to a sport I would have been too young to play at the time.
In retrospect, I think I was just one of those weird kids who made big decisions early and stuck with them. Truthfully, going to the Olympics wasn’t all my dad’s idea. I wanted it and I was willing to work for it. Even when I was angry with him, I’d idolized the sport and worked hard to make it mine. I wanted to play with the best and against the best.
And it really didn’t get better than this.
Okay, so we most likely weren’t going to the podium, but I wasn’t disappointed. I had too much to be grateful for. I had an incredible support system and I loved my teammates. Even Crowley.