Page 62 of Wood

I raise my glass with half an inch of whiskey in it. “I’m good.”

He settles into the armchair with a sigh and waits for the tumbler to appear. Once he has the glass, he takes a deep swallow then finally turns to me.

“What’s it like, Ben? Coming out?”

My eyebrows must be through my hairline at this question. I think for a moment, then decide I am living my truth, dammit.

“Twenty years ago, I told my parents. I was nineteen. They kicked me out and have not spoken to me since.” I take a sip of Scotch. “Never had a date, never had a boyfriend, too scared to lose my income. Twenty years of hiding, twenty years of living in fear. That’s the risk every gay person takes when they come out. That’s what it is like, Todd.”

“Fuck,” he breathes.

“Why do you ask?”

He clears his throat. “My son,” his voice breaks. “He’s fifteen. When he saw your interview…” He swallows. Looks away.

“He came out to you?”

He nods, taking another sip and finding his glass empty. “I didn’t know what to do, Ben.”

I hand him my glass and he takes it gratefully, sipping again. “There you were up there on the screen, holding that boy’s hand, happy… I just didn’t know what to do.”

“Just love him, Todd. That is literally all you have to do.”

He swipes a hand over his eyes. “He walked out, went to stay with his sister,” he murmurs.

“Sisters are good that way,” I reply. “Mine is throwing me a party when we get back.”

“How can I fix it, Ben?” he whispers.

“Send him a text. Right now. ‘I love you’. Start there,” I say softly.

He pulls out his phone and taps, breathes deep and sends, then sits back. Tilts up my tumbler and drains it.

“Fuck,” he grumbles. “Never saw this coming.”

I raise an eyebrow with a wry look. “Sitting having a Scotch with a friend?”

“Are we friends, Ben?” He turns watery eyes to me.

“I think we are now, Todd.”

His phone chimes, and he shakily lifts it and his face dissolves. He covers his eyes and quietly sobs. “A big heart thing, that’s good, right?”

“It’s real good, Todd.” I pat his shoulder. “That’s teenager for ‘I love you too, Dad, thank you’.”

He chuckles in his hand.

“Come to our party, Todd, bring the boy. He can talk with me and with Geoff some, too. Geoff is great with kids,” I laugh, shaking my head. “And I have a delightful gay neighbor couple with the most precocious five-year-old ever. Kid can chat with a stick and make it laugh, I swear.”

He nods. “I will, thanks.” He breathes deep again. “Thank you, Ben. Go cuddle with your new hubby. I’m just gonna sit here a bit longer. See you out on the links tomorrow.”

I rise and motion to the cocktail waitress to get Todd another. “See you tomorrow, Todd.”

The first round seems so easy, light. Like Geoff has put a force field around me, protecting me, keeping me laser focused. His ring flashes sunlight as he hands me my driver, and it settles me.

We aren’t touching any more than before on the course, not standing any closer than before. The smiles are easier, though, no fear. We won’t do anything to embarrass the IPGA, but we aren’t hiding.

James Beckett is still loud and jovial, shaggy brown hair tucked under a new Sundance Ridge cap. He offered a quick ‘Congratulations, Ben’ with a nod to Geoff as we approached the first tee box. The rookie, Bobby Calloway, is back to being a bundle of nerves, barely shaking hands hello as he stands off the tee box, waiting his turn. Our fourth is a local guy, Wendell Craddock, ‘of Craddock Ranch,’ he declares as he shakes hands, his face a picture of disdain.