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Tommy

Of course, Owen was the first person I called when I finished the first draft of my manuscript. “One hundred ten thousand words. Can you believe I had enough to talk about to have that long a manuscript?”

I asked, causing him to laugh.

“Dude, if you wrote about you and Amos, I’m not surprised.”

I paused. “I-I’m not going to publish it. I mean, I would never hurt Amos that way. It was just good to get it all out, you know?”

“Tommy, you should let Amos read it. Get his opinion. He might not mind—”

I laughed, interrupting him. “Trust me, he’d mind. Of course, he’d mind. This would end his career and put me in the spotlight too. No. Fuck no, this is just for me. I’ll probably delete it.”

“No. You do that, and I’m kicking your butt. Print it out and stick it in some safe deposit box, but do not delete it.”

I wanted to argue, but if I decided to delete it, I didn’t need Owen’s permission, so I let it drop. “Oh,”

Owen said as we chatted, “I heard from Jake, the guy coaching the high school team. He said Amos is kicking teenage butt and doing an amazing job.”

I smiled. I imagined that was true. “So, do you think he’s going to become a high school coach?”

“Dude, they’d kill him. No, but I think you should go write that article about him. I think now you’ve written your book, it might be good to freelance that article like you said. Let Amos help you get back what he caused you to lose.”

“Owen, Amos isn’t the reason I lost my job.”

“Isn’t he? I mean, if you had just disclosed the drag contest we were in—”

“Then I’d be a shithole that doesn’t deserve any friends. No, that wasn’t Amos’s fault. That’s just the nature of the business I decided to take on.”

“Regardless,”

he argued, and I recognized the stubbornness Owen always had when he sunk his teeth into a subject, “you should go, observe him, and write the article. It’s a win-win for him and you, not to mention the team.”

“Maybe. Listen, I need to go. I’m going to go take my grandma some contraband fast food. She’s not supposed to have it at the home, but what’re they gonna do, kick her out?”

Owen laughed like I knew he would. My grandma was a pill, and he’d known her before her mind had started to go. She would’ve totally snuck in food for someone, especially if someone had told her not to.

I had an hour to waste before I was supposed to visit her, but I didn’t want to discuss going to New Mexico with Owen any longer.

I went back out to the porch and sat on the swing, one of my go-to places when I was a young man who needed to think.

I knew at least three online magazines that would love the story about Amos coaching a team.

I had already seen a few articles wondering where Amos was now that he’d been benched.

I needed the job, and although a freelance article wouldn’t pay much, it would help me keep my name in the spotlight and help Amos. I texted Owen.

Me: Okay, send me the address where Amos is doing his thing.

Then a few seconds later.

Me: Also, I need you to let the coach and Amos know I’m headed out to write the article.

Owen immediately texted back a smiley face, and then a thumbs-up.

Owen got his way.

There were few things the man loved more than that.

I grabbed my keys and headed over early to see Grandma.

Yeah, she’d still be busy with her gin rummy game, and the fast food I’d stop to get her might get cold, but if I was going to take off again, I wanted to spend a little extra time with her before I did.