Page 24 of Dibs
Before I could ask one, Gage said, “Funny story, I just learned that my ex is dating one of your former teammates.”
“No shit?” I balked. “Who?”
“Miguel Santiago.”
“Ah, that asshole?”
Gage furrowed his brow. “You don’t like him?”
“He’s a homophobic prick.” The words spilled out of my mouth before I could stop them.
Pat walked into the room and the conversation between me and Gage died off while we watched the game on TV. I was thankful too, considering the conversation might have led to us being even more awkward around each other.
* * *
“Thank you for a lovely meal,”Gage said to Jamie as we headed to the door to leave.
We had eaten, and the kids had built their gingerbread houses. This year Jase and Dylan teamed up against Cammie and Tyler and in the end, it was tied, of course. I kissed my kids goodnight, told everyone else goodbye, and then Gage and I walked outside.
“I’ll follow you,” I said.
“All right.”
He climbed into his Chevy Tahoe and I followed him as planned, pulling up to a public garage in the Gaslamp Quarter. After we parked, we got out of our vehicles and I asked, “Need any help?”
“Nah. I got it. You can go grab a beer and get a good seat.”
“I can do that.”
I left Gage to do whatever it was he needed to do and made my way down the street to the bar. After ordering a pint, I found a seat, which had a great view of the small stage at the end of the room.
The bartender kept glancing at me until finally he walked over and said, “Sorry to ask this, but are you Chase Matthewson?”
“I am.” I nodded with a small smile.
“I knew it. I’m a huge fan.”
“Thanks, man.” I took a sip of my beer. “Didn’t know there were Rockies fans in Padre territory.”
He smiled back. “I’m from Denver, so it’s in my blood.”
“Nice.”
“How’s retirement life?”
“It’s going well. Thanks.”
“Are you just here for a cold one or did you come to watch California Thunder?”
California Thunder? Was that the name of the band?
“Both,” I answered and looked toward the stage where Gage and his bandmates were setting up.
“Well, let me know when you need another.”
“Will do.”
I was on my second beer when a male voice came over the speakers. “Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!” The packed bar erupted into cheers. “I don’t know about you, but we are stuffed like a fucking turkey.” I chuckled at the guy’s play on words. “Anyway, we’re California Thunder and we hope to rock your night.”
