It took the pair roughly 15 minutes to get dressed and to the truck, partly due to Coach's kissing on the boy, distracting him as he was trying to get the clothes on. They drove for another 20 minutes to a grassy cemetery on the outskirts of the smaller town. Clay pointed out the closest place to park and they both got out of the GMC.
"She's over here." Clay motioned to his right with a tilt of his head before the pair began treading lightly to the marker of her grave. The brick-sized, ivory, stone was nothing special, it simply bore her name and her date of birth before the dash and the date memorializing when Clay had discovered his mother's body. His father didn't really want to pay for even this small of a tribute.
Clay knelt to the left of the headstone and sat with his legs crossed. He placed the three flowers he'd chosen from a floral store on the way directly beneath it. They were radiant, yellow sunflowers. Her favorite. Clay sat in silence for a moment as his coach stood behind him with his arms crossed solemnly. When he did begin to speak, it was directed at the grave marker, and his voice was barely more than a whisper as the words parted from his lips.
"Hey, mom. It's been a while... Sorry about that, just have a lot going on lately... Oh! This is Coach Dunc, he's been pretty good to me lately. I thought you might like to meet him."
Clay turned back to the sentinel behind him as he spoke the latter part. Coach just smiled at the boy gently and then nodded to the gravestone.
"Nice to meet you Ma'am, you've got one hell of a good kid." Clay smiled lightly at the praise and returned his attention to where his mother rested. He was silent for a moment, then let his head hang down a bit
"God I miss you... I wish I could see you... Wish I could hug you... There is so much going on that I wish I could talk to you about..." At this point, Coach felt a bit like a third wheel. He figured the kid probably wanted some privacy for his conversation, so he spoke gently with an empathetic smile on his face.
"I'll give you two some time alone, kid. Take as long as you need. I'll wait in the truck. Clay nodded at the man in understanding, and watched him turn and walk away. He appreciated it when he did things like that. It seemed the man was good at knowing when he wanted him close and when he wanted some space. It was one of the things that was making him fall so fast for the older man. Which he very much was.
Clay didn't mind admitting it to himself, but he was still afraid to speak it out loud, not that there were any people he could talk to about it anyways... Sure, he could talk to Coach about anything so far, but not this...Not yet. It was another reason he wanted to come see his mother, she listened... She would always listen... Clay only wished she could still reply at that moment. But someone simply listening was better than keeping it inside, so he turned back to the marker and let her do just that.
"I know, I know, what the hell right? Yeah, I'm sleeping with my high school coach... I'm gay mom... I'll give you a few moments to roll over down there." Clay had expected that to sound funnier, but his dry humor wasn't helping him this time. He just sighed, and continued.
"I know everything about it should be wrong, but it doesn't FEEL wrong. At all... He's into some weird shit, but I think I am too... I'm honestly not sure... It's possible I could just be that into him. Like, REALLY into him though, Mom. I know it's probably just some "Lack of a father figure," bullshit, but he feels so right. I feel safe... I feel warm at night... I don't have to be afraid to let my guard down...I'm happy just when he's in the same room as me... My walls have been crumbling mom, and that scares me... I didn't want anyone to find out about what I thought was just another flaw, some other way I was a fuck up in life... That I couldn't even like girls right... but Coach doesn't make me feel like a fuck up at all..." His voice trailed off. He felt like he was rambling. A small piece of himself even felt kinda silly just sitting there and talking to a pile of dirt and bones, but speaking to anything about everything did make him feel better. So he changed the subject.
"...Dad's getting worse, and that's really saying something. He hasn't even been to his shop in months, his head mechanic is practically running things... The drinking is non-stop now. First thing in the morning, last thing before bed... I hate him, Mom... I hate him and I don't see how you EVER could have loved him... Not as shitty as he was to you... What he made you do to yourself... But maybe I'm falling in love with a toxic man too though, I don't really know. That thought scares me also..." He felt tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. That pissed him off. He hated crying. He had done more crying in the last three days than he had the last three years. Why now? What was so different? He was perfectly fine bottling things up this long... Nightmares or no...
Clay reached a hand up to swipe his tears from their perches before they could fall. He was tired of crying. He felt like crying should have been buried with his mother in this cemetery. Finding your overdosed mom cold and dead on cheap vinyl flooring when you were 12 was a reason to cry. Not over some teenaged boy crush.
"I wish I was stronger, mom... I wish you would've been stronger too, even if just so you could be here to tell me what I should do... But you aren't here anymore, no matter how much I wish that you were... I am though. I'm still here, and I won't waste that time crying anymore, Mom." Clay stood up. His gaze stayed on the marker as he did.
"The next time I come to see you, I'll tell you all about it. I'll tell you all about everything that happens... But for now, Mom, I really just hope you like your sunflowers." Clay brought his fingertips to his mouth, and he lightly kissed the ends before bending down and placing them gently upon the small white gravestone.
"I love you." He turned towards the pickup truck and began walking back to it. He made it a few paces before stopping and turning to look over his shoulder to his mothers final resting place one last time.
Halfway back to the truck, he noticed the coach was now on his phone speaking to someone on the other end. Clay only made it close enough to hear the final words before the call was ended.
"...it would be nice to see you guys, I'll see what the kid thinks, Alan. Holler at you later, man." Coach ended the call and looked back towards the kid. He flashed a smile that helped to melt away some of the overwhelming sadness the boy felt at finally airing some of those long bottled emotions. Clay smiled genuinely back before the man motioned to the truck and they got in. Coach Duncan turned to the boy and began.
"Get what you needed done?" His voice was layered with genuine care.
"I think so... thank you for bringing me, Coach." Clay let his head drop as he finished. Coach gently brought his right hand to the boy's chin and pulled it back up to stare into his eyes. The setting sunlight illuminated every bit of hope, sadness, longing, and even the growing love for the older man in the kid's eyes. At that moment,, Coach couldn't believe how amazingly lucky he could be to have a boy so beautiful and strong. Clay may not have realized it, but Coach knew the kid was a fighter. He'd already been fighting a living hell his entire life... That was one of the things he loved about the boy. One of the many, he admitted.
"Thank you for letting me come, Clay." They met over the console of the pickup with a lasting, passionate kiss in the dimming light of a Texas dusk. Coach brought a hand up to delicately cradle the back of the boy's head as they did so. When they did finally part, Coach asked the kid how he felt about something.
"So, that was my friend Alan on the phone, we go waaay back. He's a great guy, and him and two of his buddies will be passing through this area tomorrow night. They wanted to know if I'd like to meet up for dinner and drinks... I kind of told them a little about you and now they REALLY want to meet you kid. I told them I'd see if you were alright with having them over for dinner tomorrow? They would stay the night in the guest bedroom, but if you aren't comfortable with other people knowing who you really are yet I understand. Completely up to you, Clay." Clay thought about it for a few seconds.
"That sounds nice, Coach. Maybe I'll even get to learn about some of your dirty little secrets, huh?" Regardless of how confused and frustrated he may have been a few moments ago at that grave site, the kid now bore his own devilish smirk at his remark. Coach had an uneasy feeling for a brief second at having his signature move used against him, but he could only really smile back at the boy.
"Great, I'll let them know. I'll be sure to warn them not to scare you with too many details though." He flashed Clay a wink at the end of that statement, and shortly thereafter they were heading back home.
***
As always, feedback is appreciated guys! hope you have been enjoying the story thus far!
