it. If you don’t have time to bowl, you don’t have time to live. C’mon, give me your shoes. It’s part of the rental.”
I don’t know what I was expecting. He always forces me to bowl when I come here. I take off my loafers and hand them over.
“That’s more like it. Hold on. I’m gonna get one of the kids to man the desk.”
One of “the kids” turns out to be an adult female alpha with short, spiky blue hair and the same pin on her uniform as Ed. I wonder if he makes all of the employees wear one.
“I’ll be back in a few,” he tells her and leads me toward the only empty lane on the far end of the room. I know the drill. I’m supposed to pick out a ball while he gets the game set up. Then I’m supposed to play both sides of the game because the arthritis in his fingers is too severe for him to bowl.
I select a large green ball from the display case by our lane and then sit down on a black plastic seat next to him.
“I really need to talk,” I say.
His crooked, boney finger selects a few buttons, then he looks up at me. “What’s stoppin’ you? I’m right here.”
What should I say? Do I come right out and tell him what happened with Lu?
“Well, if you’re not going to talk, you might as well bowl. Go on, now.”
I stand up, because the idea of bowling poorly is less embarrassing than telling him I had sex with someone who isn’t my mate.
“Now remember, go for the pocket,” he calls out. Whatever that means.
I bring the ball up to my chest, because I’ve seen other bowlers do that, and then swing it behind me, before flinging it down the alley. It goes wide and ends up rolling in the gutter.
“You’re releasing too late. You gotta let go of it. Let it do its thing.”
“Let it do its thing? What’s its thing?” I ask, returning to the chairs.
“Let it roll. You’re robbing it of its power.”
I sigh. I didn’t come here for bowling advice. It’s time to come clean.
“You know that omega I told you about?”
He raises his eyebrows. “Yeah?”
“Well, I… slept with him.”
He leans back in his chair and smiles. “Well, how was it?”
That’s not the reaction I was expecting.
“Ed, I cheated on my mate.”
“Your mate is dead.”
He knows what I mean by cheating. I shouldn’t have to explain this to him.
My bowling ball pops up through the return machine. Ed looks at it pointedly. I return to the lane.
“Remember, release it just as your hand swings down.”
I wish I would have gone to get my kids instead of coming here. The ball goes wide again, plopping onto the lane and rolling toward the gutter.
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re terrible at bowling?” Ed asks.
“Just you. Every time I come here.”
I sit back down and rest my head in my hands. I don’t know what I expected. Ed can’t fix what I’ve done. No one can.
“Let me tell you something you’re not terrible at. You’re not terrible at being a dad. Your kids know they can depend on you, and they love you. Also, you’re not terrible at being a mate. You’re just lonely. Ain’t nothing wrong with that after being alone for four years.”
He should tell that to Lu, who spent the better part of thirty minutes crying in my arms because of what I did to him.
“You’ve been a widower for far longer than four years,” I say.
He shrugs. “Bill was it for me.”
Allen should be it for me too. That was the agreement we made. Mates for life.
Ed reaches forward and squeezes my knee. “I don’t think you understand what I’m saying. Bill was the only person I’ve ever felt attracted to. Some of the younger folks call it graysexual, I suppose.”
Why did Ed never tell me this before? I thought he made it through all these years on will power alone.
This time when my ball rolls back up, I stand and grab it without prompting. I’m not angry with him, but I am… jealous. This would be so much easier if Allen was the only person I’d ever been attracted to.
Without thinking too much, I go through the motions of stretching my arm back and use the momentum to launch the ball forward. Ed whoops as the ball sails down the lane, curving toward the center at the last moment, and knocking all