Trade Deadline - Avon Gale Page 0,21
or anywhere else for that matter.
Daniel cleared his throat and could only be grateful Micah was distracted with buckling his seat belt. “Where to?”
Micah looked up from adjusting the strap across his chest. “How do you feel about Cuban sandwiches?”
“I feel like I could happily eat one of those with a side of plantain chips right about now.”
“Well, you’re in luck,” Micah said cheekily, “because I happen to know the perfect place.”
He directed Daniel to his favorite Cuban restaurant, where they settled at a small corner table. Over cheesy ham and roasted pork sandwiches, crunchy plantain chips, and cups of steaming café con leche, they chatted about the aquarium and how Daniel’s family was coping with the move.
“Are your kids happy?” Micah asked. “They grew up in Atlanta, right? It must’ve been hard for them to leave their friends behind.”
Daniel curved a hand around his mug, warming his palm. “They weren’t thrilled about it at first, but they’re still pretty young. Gretchen just started first grade and Nathaniel’s in third. We got them to see it as a new adventure, you know? All the beaches, Universal, Disney World.”
Micah laughed softly. “That gave you some nice leverage, huh?”
Daniel chuckled along with him. “Yeah, but I’m not going to lie, it probably would’ve been a lot harder to convince them if my parents didn’t live close by. I think that’s what truly swayed them in the end, being near Grandma and Grandpa. They’ve already spent the night with them a couple of times.”
“I bet you’re happy to be near your parents again, too. You guys always had a great relationship, from what I remember.”
Daniel bobbed his head. “We still do. My parents have always been my biggest supporters. I know they never would’ve left Florida in the first place if not for how badly I wanted to play hockey. They didn’t want to send me off to live with a billet family, so they uprooted their whole lives for me. That’s something I can’t ever pay back.”
Micah tipped his chin down and his bangs fell over his forehead to shadow his eyes. For a second, his smile dimmed and instead of eating the chip in his hand, he crushed it between his fingers, letting the pieces fall to his plate. “I’m sure the fact that you’re living your dream is payment enough for them. That’s how it should be.”
Daniel hesitated. “What about your parents? You mentioned you don’t talk to them anymore. What happened? I mean, if you don’t mind my asking.”
Micah waved his hand airily and picked up his mug to drain the rest of his coffee. “It’s a sad story, but the too-long-didn’t-read version is they booted me out of the house when I was sixteen because they didn’t agree with my ‘perverted gay lifestyle,’ like I said before. I haven’t spoken to either of them since a couple of years after that when I made one foolish last attempt to reach out to them only to be rejected yet again.”
Micah said the words in a practiced, casual way, but Daniel heard the undercurrent of grief, and it turned his stomach. He couldn’t imagine a time when he’d stop speaking to his own son, let alone a reason even remotely good enough to put Nathaniel out on the street. Ever. That wasn’t what parents did, not in his family. At one time, he might’ve said the same about the Kellys. He’d known them as neighbors and friends of his parents for years. They’d been religious churchgoers and somewhat strict with Micah, but he’d considered them kind, charitable people. “Good” people. He never would’ve suspected they’d be heartless enough to abandon their own son over something he couldn’t help or change.
“I’m so sorry,” he said finally, forcing the words past the lump in his throat and the shock he was still trying to process. “That’s... That’s awful.”
Micah shrugged but didn’t meet Daniel’s gaze. “It’s been seventeen years since they kicked me out. I’m over it.”
Daniel doubted being tossed out on the street as a teenager was something a person ever simply got over, but he wasn’t about to press the issue.
“Anyway, this is not the fun dinner conversation I had in mind when I texted you.” Micah smiled wryly. “How about we pick something to share for dessert?”
Daniel reached across the table to squeeze his hand. “I’d like that.”
Chapter Eight
Micah watched the Thunder’s next few away games, which was an experience. He invited his friends Quinton and Justice over, who