Safety Net (36 page)

Erick smiled at her. “Yes, I’m
Erick West.”

“I’m so sorry about this,” said her
mother. “We’ve been going to Crocker games all season. She’s a big fan.”

Her father bent down and said to
the girl, “See? That’s Lowell Menacker. You remember him from the Arizona State
game, right?”

The girl nodded, staring across the
table at Lowell. “He made three touchdowns.”

Lowell laughed a little. Erick said
to the girl, “And that’s Dale Lennart, our wide receiver. He scored a touchdown
yesterday.” Had it really only been yesterday?

The girl shyly looked at Dale, then
at her father. “He was hurt this year,” she said seriously, and her father
nodded.

“She is a big fan,” Dale said,
surprised.

“Go on,” her mother urged her. The
girl turned to Erick and said, “I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry you lost
yesterday but I hope you don’t feel bad because you were really really good in
the game and I love Crocker football and that’s all.”

“I’m sorry,” her mother apologized
to the table. “We were sitting over there, and when she saw you, she wanted to
say something. We watched the Rose Bowl yesterday. It was so close... Of course
we thought you’d win.”

Of course
. Erick had thought
they’d win, too.

He looked at the girl. She stared
at him with big brown eyes and twisted from side to side on her feet. The back
pockets of her jeans had panda faces on them.

Mama said, “Oh, that is so nice of
you. Isn’t it, Erick? We are so happy to meet you.”

The mother and father beamed,
relieved that their interruption wasn’t being taken as an intrusion, and took
their daughter’s hand. “Say bye-bye.”

The girl waved. “Bye-bye.”

Erick waved, watching until the
young family left the restaurant. He turned back to his dinner but they’d taken
the plates away already. He didn’t remember if he’d finished eating.

“Erick?” Lowell asked. From the
look on Lowell’s face, he must be covered in blood.

“Erick, honey? What’s wrong?”

Mama reached over the table and
squeezed his hand. So much strength his mother had in those bony thin fingers
of hers. She leaned toward him and said in a gentle whisper, “Oh, doll baby.
There now.”

Erick wiped his eyes. “Mama. I
wanted to win. I wanted to win more than anything else.”

“I know you did, honey. I know you did.”
Mama patted his cheek, brushing wetness away with her thumb.

Erick sat up straight, took a drink
of water, and smiled bleaky at the table. “Shit, sorry for this.”

“It’s okay,” said Dale, frowning at
him, and Lowell said, “Bro.” His look was soft, concerned.

Erick gazed at him, drawing
strength from that look -- Lowell understood perfectly. Lowell knew him
completely. No one said anything for a long moment Erick figured was awkward
for everybody else; he didn’t care because he was looking at Lowell.

Erick said, “Mama, did I ever tell
you this? Back in freshman year, I had a great idea that Crocker should put
Lowell on the football posters. I thought we could fill the stadium with all
the girls on campus.”

Lowell’s cheeks colored slightly.
His gaze flitted to Mama before coming back to rest on Erick, and Erick smiled
at him.

Dale explained, “Freshman year, the
stadium was empty most of the time. Even sophomore year, only the Hammer Game
sold out. It’s way different now.”

Mama touched Erick’s hand and said
to him, “You filled that stadium. They came to see you.”

“No, Mama,” Erick said, still
smiling at Lowell. “They came to see us.”

-----

On the walk back to campus, Dale
said, “I cannot believe you told your parents about me and Andy.”

Lowell bumped Dale with his elbow
and said, “That’s the only part of tonight you’re upset about?”

“I nearly had a heart attack,” Dale
protested.

Erick shrugged. “Sorry. I didn’t
think it would have to be a big secret from my folks.”

“It’s not that,” said Dale. “Fuck.
I don’t know what it is. Just that you sprang it on me, and I thought I was
going to keel over.”

Andy put his arm across Dale’s
shoulders. “Wanna know what I thought? I was surprised, then I was glad. I was
glad I didn’t have to spend the evening worrying about saying the wrong thing
or giving us away. And your parents were perfectly polite.”

Erick rubbed the back of his neck. “Mama
was strangely polite, if you wanna know the truth. She didn’t give Lowell any
of her dirty looks.”

“Oh yes, she did,” said Lowell. “A
couple of times. But at least she didn’t go for the jugular this time. I’d
prepared myself to be blamed individually and entirely for losing the Rose Bowl.”

Erick quickly glared at him. “That’s
ridiculous. How the hell do you figure that?”

“I don’t,” said Lowell reasonably. “But
I thought your mother might.”

Erick sighed. “I don’t know why she
was off her game tonight, but whatever the reason, I’m glad we didn’t have to
face both barrels.”

The campus was empty; classes didn’t
start until the following Tuesday and there were no meetings with Coach Miller
for the rest of the week. Erick made plans to show his parents around, and his
father scored tickets for the 49ers-Rams game on Sunday. Enough for Lowell and
Dale to come along, but Dale opted out to spend time with Andy, so Erick
invited Anson, and they had a great day at the game even though it rained.

Near the end of the fourth quarter,
with San Francisco up by ten points, Lowell nudged Erick and said, “Just think.
That’s gonna be us down on the field pretty soon.”

Erick had been thinking about it
all during the game, looking around at the fans, the sidelines, the coaches,
the press box. He couldn’t wait for it. It was terrifying and exhilarating. He
nudged Lowell back and smirked. “This field? I doubt it. The 49ers kicked ass
this season. They could be Super Bowl-bound.”

“You know what I meant.”

After Erick said goodbye to his
parents early Monday morning, he swung by Lowell’s room. Lowell opened the door
in his underwear, tucking his hair behind his ears and blinking sleepily. Erick
caught him by the waist as the door closed and brought him into a kiss, very
slow and delicious. They stood by the door and made out for a while until Dale
cleared his throat. “Ah-hem.”

Erick turned his head and Lowell
kept kissing, working on Erick’s neck. Erick said, “We’re not having sex.”

“Yet.” Dale crossed his arms over
his chest. “You couldn’t wait until you got into Lowell’s room?”

“No,” Erick said simply, and Dale
shook his head and stalked back into his bedroom, closing the door firmly.

“Harsh,” Lowell murmured.

“Fucking quarterback,” Erick
murmured back, looking at him lazily. He ran his fingertips up Lowell’s bare
back, and Lowell reached over and pounded on Dale’s door.

“Hey, Lennart, you better go out
for a run or something. Like, right now. In the next few minutes.”

Through the door they heard Dale
bitching at them, but Erick was not at all remorseful.

When winter quarter classes
started, Lowell thought things would start sliding back into place and the
off-balance vibe he’d felt since the Rose Bowl disappointment would evaporate.
But everything was still strange. He only had to take two classes this quarter
and one in the spring. They were seminars and tough (he hated writing papers)
but it was still the lightest course load he’d ever experienced since coming to
Crocker.

He thought he and Erick would get
more time together, but Erick’s schedule got tighter. There were more things to
take care of besides Crocker now. In the middle of January, Lowell met with an
agent for the first time, a man Erick’s father had recommended. His name was Ed
Brzechczyn and everyone called him Ed.

They weren’t allowed to meet on
campus, so they met in a conference room at the Westin where Ed was staying. He
laid out a bunch of papers with tables and stats and figures on them and said, “So
this is where we are. Are these numbers still correct?” he asked, pointing his
pen to a list of Lowell’s measurements and Crocker career stats. Lowell’s Rose
Bowl performance had already been factored in.

“My weight’s at two-forty-four now,”
said Lowell.

“Intentional?” asked Ed, making the
correction with his pen. “Does it fluctuate a lot?”

“Not a lot. My upper was
two-fifty-six in sophomore year. I’ve kept it around two-fifty since then. It
came down a little since the regular season ended.”

“You need to bring it up before the
Combine. Try two-fifty.”

Ed pushed another sheet forward,
and pointed at a few rows with his pen. “This is where I think you’ll be. You
have to understand, it’s not an exact science.” He smiled a little. “Kids
coming out of college think there’s a grand plan in place. Doesn’t work like
that. Even Erick West might not be the number one pick, though it’s safe to say
he’s first-round. After the Erick Wests of the world, however, it gets far
muddier. Are you surprised at the ranking or is this about what you expected?”

Lowell tucked a lock of hair behind
his ear, staring at the paper. “Uh, it’s a little higher than I thought,
especially since I wasn’t in the Senior Bowl.” Erick had been invited to play
in the Senior Bowl but on advice had decided to save his efforts for the
Combine and Pro Day; Lowell hadn’t been invited.

Ed moved that paper back and pushed
another one toward Lowell. “Like I said, it’s not an exact science. You could
be more right than me.” He sat back, toying with his pen.

“These are the teams I think will
be picking around your slot, and at least two of them could use good tight end
talent. But remember, you’ll be a rookie. Every team does things their way.
Some teams love to send their rookies out early; other teams, you’ll cool your
heels for awhile. Most teams it’ll be a mix, depending on their needs, who’s
injured, who gets traded, who the coaches like.” He looked at Lowell. “You’re
coming off three full seasons starting, right? Yeah. This is the reality check.
Do you think you can sit on the side again?”

Lowell hadn’t harbored many
illusions about starting as a rookie, especially not after getting periodic
e-mails from Breitenstein, who even now had only played in a handful of games.

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s not my
dream, of course, but the way I see it, it’s like when I came here and had to
redshirt. I’ll have to prove myself to a whole new group of guys.”

Ed smiled. “This is why I love
working with Crocker kids. You’re smart.” He leaned forward and tapped the
paper again. “In my opinion -- and it’s my opinion only, you understand -- of
these teams I’ve listed, I think the Portland Knights would be the best fit.
How do you feel about Portland?”

Lowell struggled to come up with an
opinion about Portland; this all seemed completely unreal. As unreal as Erick
going to New Haven.

“They have a brand new stadium. Um,
Tobias Jennings is their veteran TE. Kellen Forrester’s the QB. I don’t know
much about him.”

Ed smiled again. “Most kids say, ‘It
rains a lot in Portland.’ I love Crocker kids, I really do. Yes, Forrester’s
the QB now. He was a fifth-round pick three years ago. Jennings is their senior
TE, but last year they recruited George Pell out of TCU. My take? Jennings is
thirty-three. He’s great but not a lot of mileage left. Pell’s still
inexperienced -- he didn’t see the kind of on-field action in college that you
saw. Portland can create a TE dynamic duo with you. You and Jennings could make
some trouble, and your experience as Pell comes into his own could be great.
But. This is me armchair-coaching. I have absolutely no idea how Portland would
use you, if it’s Portland. Any of these other teams catch your eye?”

Lowell looked at the list again. “Well,
uh. Green Bay.”

Ed raised his eyebrows. “Any
particular reason? Their QB?”

Lowell smiled a little. “I grew up
in northern Indiana, close to Chicago. We’re all Bears fans. We hate Green Bay.”

Ed’s smile was business-like. “Your
family would disown you?”

Lowell felt a little stupid now. “Um,
no.” He shrugged. “It just caught my eye, because of that.”

“I don’t think they’re shopping for
TEs this year. Do you have any thoughts about Cleveland?”

“Not really,” Lowell admitted. He
had even less of an opinion about Cleveland than he’d had of Portland.

“Cleveland could use offensive
talent wherever they can find it, starting with a good QB and working their way
down the roster. Could mean more field time sooner for a rookie.”

Lowell sat back and said, “These
are the ones you said are most likely. The only NFC teams are Green Bay and
Dallas.”

“Yeah.” Ed gave him an assessing
look and said, “You’re not one of those Dallas fanboys, are you? Grew up
wanking to the Cowboys cheerleaders? Because -- and this is strictly and
entirely my opinion here -- I would not steer you in their direction this year.
There are some issues there. If you read the blogs, you’ll get a sense of it.
Wait for free agency, if that’s your dream.”

Lowell laughed a little. “Oh, no,
nothing like that. No, it’s just that some of my friends... They’re in the NFC
or probably gonna be in the NFC.”

Ed gave him a friendly, paternal
look. “Ah, okay. Got it. Unfortunately, the cold hard truth about the NFL is
that it rips apart college friendships. Players almost never end up on the same
team. As in, I can’t name a time when that happened, not in the original draft.
But look at the bright side, if you’re in the AFC you’ll only play your buddies
maybe once every four years or so, unless you both make the Super Bowl. You can
be rivals without hating each other for the entire season every year.”

That was the bright side, was it,
Lowell thought bleakly.

Ed gathered the papers and put them
in his laptop case. “As long as there are no surprises at the Combine and Pro Day,
I think this is solid information going forward.” He zipped up the laptop case
and asked off-handedly, out of curiosity, “If you had a choice of those teams
we talked about, right this second, where would you go?”

Lowell didn’t give it much thought.
“Portland, probably.”

Ed didn’t respond but shook hands
with him and said, “I’ll stay in touch, but you won’t see me until after Pro
Day.”

“Not until then?”

Ed smiled. “Don’t worry. Do what
you’ve been doing, you’ll be fine. The scouts are going to be a bunch of sharks
around Erick West. You’ll get some of the attention, so make the most of it.
Right now, prepare for the Combine. Get back up to two-fifty.”

As they walked to the conference
room door, Lowell said, “I’m actually going to become a professional football
player. For real.”

Ed grinned and opened the door for
him. “I love it when it sinks in. This is my favorite part of the job.”

Near the end of April, Erick, the
number one draft pick, was selected by the New Haven Hawks, and Lowell was
selected by the Portland Knights.

-----

Winter quarter had been strange.
Lowell was lucky if he saw Erick once a week; since February, Erick had been
traveling, doing media, going to meetings, or privately working with Crocker’s
other quarterbacks. Spring quarter -- with the NFL draft a couple of weeks into
it -- was surreal. Lowell came back from the rookie minicamp in Oregon with his
head spinning, full of advice, facts about Portland, gossip about the Knights,
cautionary tales, and lots of financial files from Ed. Lowell handed Dale the
financial stuff, and Dale picked it over carefully, putting his impending
economics degree to good use.

“You won’t starve,” he declared at
last. “But I don’t advise buying a private jet. I don’t advise buying anything,
to be honest. What do you know about your housing options?”

“There’s a woman from Player
Relations who’s supposed to call me about that stuff,” said Lowell. “Ed
recommended I find another rookie and rent a place together.”

Dale made a face. “That sounds like
swapping one dorm for another.”

Lowell slouched back in the sofa. “That’s
what I thought. The only other Portland rookie I met was this guy from Hawaii.
Offensive tackle. He’s six-foot-nine, sorta reminds me of Wotoa except he’s
gotta be at least three hundred and fifty pounds.”

“Could you rent a place with him?” Dale
asked dubiously.

“I don’t know.” Lowell sighed and
looked at Dale. “Why don’t you move to Portland? Just until Andy gets out of
the Peace Corps.”

Dale shook his head regretfully. “Sorry,
homeboy. Truth is, if there was an internship in Oregon, I’d take it. I’m gonna
miss your crazy ass. But I’m D.C.-bound. It’s all settled. While you and Erick
were living large, I found a place to stay in Maryland.”

Lowell silently cursed Oregon for
not being overrun with internships for economics majors. “Dude, that’s awesome.
What kind of place is it? Do you have to share?”

Dale leaned back in the desk chair.
“You remember Brent from Rockridge? He graduated last year. He’s going to grad
school at the University of Maryland.”

Lowell narrowed his eyes. “You’re
not gonna live with him, are you? An ex-boyfriend?”

“I live with you,” Dale pointed
out, and Lowell was uneasily surprised to learn that Dale had ever considered
him a boyfriend. “But no, I’m not gonna live with Brent. He’s living in grad
student housing. He put me in touch with some people, and I found a professor
who rents out a room in her house. Totally works out.” Dale sat forward and
tapped on his laptop. “Looks pretty nice from the pictures. It’s an attic
apartment, has its own bathroom, its own entrance.”

Lowell came over and looked at the
pictures over Dale’s shoulder. It was a granny suite, with the floral bedspread
and everything. But he supposed Dale could de-granny it. Besides, Dale was only
going to be there for a year.

“What about after the internship’s
over?” he asked.

“I’m not even thinking that far.” Dale
glanced at him. “Look. If I decide to go to grad school, I’ll look at programs
in Oregon. I promise.”

“Thanks.”

“You that scared?” Dale asked.

Lowell paced around the room. “Scared.
Nervous. Excited. It’s unreal. It’s happening, but it’s still unreal.”

“What does your mother say about
all this?”

Lowell stopped pacing. “My mom told
me to calm down and only think about things when I’m doing my morning run. She
said my brain’s gonna explode if I keep going like I’ve been going. After the
draft, that night I must’ve kept her up until three in the morning talking
about stuff. My mom said to forget about it for now, concentrate on wrapping up
here and graduating.”

“Your mother is a wise woman,” said
Dale. After a pause he asked, “And what about Erick?”

Lowell could guess all the ways
Dale meant that question. He dropped down onto the sofa. “The last time I spent
the night with him was spring break,” he sighed. “It’s crazy how much Erick has
to do.”

Dale gave him a sympathetic look. “Oh,
bro. I didn’t know it’d been so long since you guys had been together.”

Lowell licked his lips. “Um. We’ve
carved out some time to be alone since then. But the last time we had a whole
night where we could just talk about stuff, that was back in March.”

Dale’s eyebrow twitched. “I see. I
should’ve known. You two, honestly.”

Lowell shrugged. He used to feel
bad about his libido but right now he was feeling relatively monk-like. It was
something he’d have to get used to.

“Erick’s dad has a bunch of
connections, and this dude who’s a booster for Erick’s old high school owns
property around New Haven or something. He’s gonna get set up with a sweet
house and everything.”

Dale was watching him. He said
gently, “Lowell. What are you going to do?”

Lowell frowned. “I don’t know. I
don’t. And Erick doesn’t know. I know you think we don’t talk about it, but we
do. We just haven’t come up with any answers.” He blew out a breath. “What I’m
hoping is that we’ll both be too busy to be lonely. And then in offseason... Who
knows, you know? Brokeback football.” He smiled a little.

Dale didn’t smile back. “You’ll
have to be very, very careful. Like witness protection program careful. I’m not
kidding.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Lowell
couldn’t hold back the rush of anger. “You think I don’t realize how much we’re
risking? Don’t realize I could kill Erick’s career before it even starts? Dale,
I’m living with it every fucking day, all right?”

He buried his face in his hands,
ran his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath as the anger dissipated.
“I’d leave him, break it off completely, let him go right this second if he’d
let me,” he said quietly. “It’d kill me, y’know. I’d kill myself for him if it
would mean he got everything I wish for him. But I can’t.”