More than the Game by Jenni Bara

15

@HotShotDemoda:Supporting my team with three of my favorite people—Go Metros!

@EdwardDCampbell:Join me today with @VoteLorettaM at the Get Out The Vote rally in downtown Miami. We even have a special guest introducing the Presidential candidate.

It was a yearly tradition: Marc rented a house in the Keys for his parents’ anniversary, and Glory, his sister, came down to spend time with them. Since he had to come to Miami to help Ed “get out the vote,” Marc had decided to spend a few days with his family. What a fucking mistake.

Now he sat by the pool, sunglasses on, trying his best to feign sleep. It didn’t work; they all knew he was awake.

“If you’re so serious about this girl, why did you not invite her along?” Since Marc had stepped foot in the house, his mother had spent the entire time nagging.

“Mom, stop freaking out. It’s only been a couple of weeks; Twitter is making everyone crazy,” Glory said.

How many times had they had this conversation in the last few days? In the morning, at lunch, at dinner; in English, in Spanish. It was ridiculous. His sister was sick of it too.

“The boy knows better than to tie himself to one woman,” his father said simply.

Marc didn’t explain what was going on; he had decided to let the media story be the truth. He didn’t want to have to get into all the details.

“Yeah, three weeks is your record, right?” Glory said mockingly.

“Something like that,” Marc mumbled.

“When do we meet her?” his mother, Luciana, asked for the hundredth time. The reply Never jumped to his mind every time. It was ridiculous: Luciana was acting as if she had never met Beth in her life, but that wasn’t true. They had met several times through Helping Hands.

Were all families this annoying? The Evans family—they didn’t annoy each other. Well, to some extent they did, but they enjoyed the banter. Beth’s brothers had enjoyed giving her a good ribbing on Saturday afternoon when a blue jay flew into her window. Beth was worried about the injured jay, and insisted that someone help her check on it since she hated birds. Marc had ended up going outside in the rain with her to find the damn thing, and she had been relieved to know the crash had simply stunned it.

“Well?” Lucina asked, pointedly reminding Marc that she had asked him a question.

“Ma, you already know Beth.”

“Yes, well, I don’t know her as my son’s girlfriend.” Her accent got stronger, a sure sign she was working herself into a tiff, and Marc sighed.

“I promise she’s the same person, and if I marry her, I’ll introduce you before the big day.”

Frank choked.

Even if Marc were to develop a sudden interest in marriage, he knew Beth wouldn’t marry him. He suspected he was like the stunned bird that she didn’t want to help, but felt compelled to go out in the rain after. That was depressing the hell out of him.

“We’ve gone out a few times, nothing more to it.” He’d lost count of how many times he had given the same reassurance.

The vacation was for a week, but Marc had flown down late. He, Beth, and the kids had gone to the Metros game on Sunday to watch Corey pitch his first good game in weeks. Marc was also leaving early because of the Helping Hands carnival on Saturday. Still, he felt like it was the longest five days of his life. Having experienced the Evans family together made it more apparent how awful his family was. There was no way he was bringing any of the Evanses to meet his parents.

Two hours later, Frank got him alone and started the conversation Marc had known was coming.

“Marc, we need to talk about this girl.”

Marc didn’t like how his father referred to Beth, as if she wasn’t good enough to have a name. “Dad, it’s not a big deal. Beth and I are less involved than Twitter makes it seem.”

As if to prove his point, his phone chimed: Austin posting a picture of Marc and Beth to Marc’s Instagram and Twitter. Marc stared at the photo. He wasn’t sure when Austin had taken the candid shot. Marc’s hand was tucking a blonde curl behind Beth’s ear, and there was a hint of a smile on her face. God, she was gorgeous. He glanced at his own face—he looked like an enthralled puppy. It took him a second to realize his face bore the same expression right this moment. He shook his head and glanced back at his father.

“Everyone’s noticed that you’re spending all your time around the house.” His father’s implication was clear: Marc hadn’t been picking up random women at local bars. Even the idea of that left a knot in his stomach.

“What?” Marc hedged, unsure what to say, and not understanding anything he was feeling.

“Marc, you and I have always had what one might call a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ agreement about your sex life.”

Marc couldn’t help comparing his words with the open and honest dialogue Beth and her brothers shared about everything.

“Your mother and I know you’re sleeping in your bed every night while we’re here. It’s not your normal routine, and you even mentioned marriage earlier.” Frank said it like it was a curse word Marc couldn’t use. “Don’t tell me this girl isn’t different.”

“I like her enough that I won’t fuck around on her, Dad,” Marc said flatly, trying to keep all the emotions he didn’t understand out of his voice.

“That makes her different.”

“No. I don’t cheat. Never have. That’s not anything different.”

His father frowned.

Dear old dad wasn’t faithful, and Marc had seen how it hurt his mother even as she turned a blind eye. He had resolved to never do that to another person, neither as the cheater nor as the other man. Marc had always promised himself he wouldn’t make his father’s mistakes—any of them. Including pretending to be a family man.

“The question I have is, when was the last time someone mattered enough to you that seeing another woman became ‘cheating?’” Frank asked expectantly.

Instead of admitting he had a point, Marc ignored it. “Just say what you want to say.”

“You and I are the same. We’re cut from the same cloth. You don’t need to be chained to someone else’s family, so don’t get attached and ruin your whole damn life.”

Marc sighed. This wasn’t a new conversation. But now it wasn’t only an idea that he shouldn’t get attached to; today, it was real people.

“I know Beth—great lady. I can understand her appeal.” Marc frowned at Frank. Realistically a man would have to be dead not to see Beth, but there was something inherently wrong with his father noticing his girlfriend. “She has strong ties to the community, not to mention two kids. A lot of responsibility. She won’t pick up and move because you got a job as the pitching coach for the Arizona Diamondbacks.” Frank observed Marc closely for his reaction.

Marc’s gut reaction was to tell him to go to hell. His father didn’t know what Beth would do or say. Still, he was probably right.

“Dad—”

Frank interrupted him.

“Marc, you’re thinking with the wrong head. Pussy isn’t something to give up your life to get. You can get it anywhere. It’s all the same. Don’t hang around here with your mother—go out.”

If Marc wanted some random fuck, he could get it. Been there, done that. But he didn’t want to explain it to his father. Instead, he took the easy way out and agreed to go out with Glory that night.

“Marc, are you babysitting tonight?” Glory asked him after twenty minutes at the bar.

“Nope,” he said, too sharply.

“Then why are you here? Because you don’t want to be,” she said. “You’ve never come out with me before.”

The pang of guilt told him his sister was right. He couldn’t remember any other time in his life that he’d gone out with her. They’d worked together for months, but he’d never offered to take her to lunch. He couldn’t remember a birthday dinner, and he was pretty sure he’d had a game the night Glory graduated from high school. What kind of brother did that make him? Even if he wasn’t close with his dad, it made him suddenly sad to realize that he’d formed no relationship with his sister—and perhaps not even with his mother.

Marc said nothing. He let his eyes scan the room, looking at the crowd.

“You know it’s okay to like someone enough that no one else matters. I mean, speaking as a girl,” Glory stumbled over her words, “I would love to find a man who could sit in a bar full of women looking at him like he was a three-course meal, and be completely distracted because he only wanted to be with me.”

Marc wanted it to be that easy, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t a love story causing his current unease; it was stress, disappointment in himself, annoyance with his parents, and lack of a sex life. He had no intention of telling his sister any of that, but she needed to understand that men shouldn’t cheat. At twenty-one she was old enough to know that already, but having grown up in their house, it would be easy for her to assume that it was acceptable behavior.

“I’m not going home tonight. I’m getting a hotel room. I’ll be there alone. The only reason I’m not going home is that Ma and Dad are driving me insane.”

This was a conversation that, a few weeks ago, he wouldn’t have had with Glory. He wouldn’t have wanted to have any type of talk with her, because he’d never wanted a close relationship with her. But now he felt like not having one was missing out on something. Beth had, in the few short weeks he’d known her, changed him more than any other person he’d ever known.

“Good men don’t cheat, Glory, even if you aren’t having sex with them. They won’t go looking for it elsewhere.”

Glory snorted.

“I mean it,” Marc said.

“You’re telling me if Beth wasn’t… you know… you wouldn’t?”

Marc could have lied, but he didn’t. “Beth and I aren’t having sex, and I’m not looking for it anywhere else. And trust me, it wouldn’t be hard to find.”

“What?” Her shock overwhelmed Marc.

He had never been a good brother, and he needed to fix it as best he could. Things were going to change between him and Glory from now on.

“I’ve been a shitty brother, Glory, and a terrible example. I’m sorry. Women are more than sex. Anyone worth your time should know that. I’m not saying men aren’t obsessed with sex; even men who like to spend time with you, they still want you,” Marc admitted, and tried not to cringe. This was harder than the Evanses made it look. “But the right guy will realize it’s worth the wait—you’re worth the wait—and will be respectful enough to have a condom.” He choked out the words, but he was determined to say them: “Because not using one is disrespectful to you.”

“Mom’s right; you’re different. Beth’s special, isn’t she?” Glory asked, turning the conversation back on him.

“I was talking about you and men. Not Beth and me,” Marc said, and got up. “Come on, we’ll order some room service and watch a movie. That way we both get a break from Ma and Dad.”

He couldn’t leave her at the bar, but he couldn’t handle any more of this serious talk. He hoped he had opened a door tonight—and he needed to make sure that, from now on, it stayed open.