that he did what he wanted and what he felt was best was probably why he made a damn good general manager most of the time. But over the past few years, he’d gotten too used to his cushy office high above the park and lost sight of what was happening with the club he’d been hired to lead.
As I sat at a table in the back of one of his favorite restaurants, I tried to remind myself no good would come from pointing out that he seemed to have forgotten what he used to love about baseball. I was there to try and work out a deal that’d allow me to get back to playing, because the truth was, I missed the hell out of being at the park. I was almost desperate enough to put up with homophobic fuckheads just to swing the bat again.
I felt Brian’s presence before he came into view. Like I said, the man had this air about him that typically demanded attention. As I took note of the scowl on his face as he approached, I regretted telling my dad this was something I needed to do on my own.
I didn’t want Brian or anyone else thinking I had to hide behind my father to get the fair treatment I’d damned well earned. This wasn’t about me being Pete Nolan’s son, this was about me being able to connect the bat with the ball when I was in the batter’s box.
This was about me busting my ass to get guys out before they could get on base. This was about PJ Nolan, the respected baseball player who also happened to be gay.
“PJ, it’s good seeing you again,” he greeted me. I took his proffered hand, holding back a wince at the stranglehold he had on my fingers. He motioned for me to sit back down and I wondered if standing had been the wrong thing to do. “I’m glad you got in touch with me personally. It shows maturity I wasn’t sure you possessed after the way you walked out on your team, but I’m hoping we’ll settle that issue today.”
“Thank you for seeing me,” I said, forcing myself to maintain eye contact. Now that I’d had plenty of time to cool down, I wasn’t as sure I’d done the right thing by walking out. If this’d been any other job, I’d have been fired without question. “I’m sorry for behaving the way I did, but I’m sure you understand the tough spot I’d been put in.”
“I’d like to talk to you about that,” he assured me as he waved down a waiter. We both placed our drink orders and he waited until we were alone to continue. “What happened in the clubhouse that day wasn’t okay. I’ve talked to Duquette and Mercer to get their side of the story, but I’d like to hear yours from you rather than Pete or Doyle.
“It’s not that I think either of them would embellish the story to make you sound better, but you’re the one who was there. Once I know what happened from all parties involved, I’m hoping we will be able to come to an amicable solution that’ll allow you to get back to Jupiter. Your presence has been missed by more people than I think you realize, and a lot of your teammates are riding my ass to do whatever’s necessary to get you back in uniform.”
Hearing that did a lot to ease the worries that’d been plaguing me ever since I told Nate I was going to meet with Brian. There were bad apples everywhere. Even Milwaukee, the safe haven of the league, had their issues. But unlike my fellow gay players, I’d ran when I should’ve fought harder for the position I’d earned.
I’d allowed Mercer, Duquette, and whoever else thought I was a parasite to make me feel like I was no longer welcome in Miami. I’d unfairly decided that everyone on that team would treat me the way a few had when the truth came out. And so, for the millionth time, I ran down my first morning of spring training.
Brian steepled his fingers in front of his mouth, nodding or humming as I spoke, but giving no indication of how my account of that day matched up with what the others had said. He smiled at the waiter when he returned with our drinks and waved him off before he could take our order, as though he knew