Jake's Regret

Chapter 1 There sure were a lot of funerals going on in the cemetery that afternoon. Damian Grant wondered how he would figure out which one was for Jacob Fields. It was the sort of cemetery where big marble headstones and carvings of angels littered the ground. Most of which were now old, cracked and covered in weeds and other growth. An old cemetery, Damian guessed. Maybe dating back a hundred years or so. His hands tightened on the steering wheel of his sedan and for a moment he considered driving away. Before anyone noticed him. Not that he expected to be recognized or anything. He hadn’t played football for a few years and Jacob Fields’s family wouldn’t know him. Hell, Jacob Fields himself had hated his guts. Turning off the engine, Damian opened the car door and got out, shielding his eyes against the midday glare. Should have brought his sunglasses. He was forever forgetting to take them with him. To his left he spotted a group of mostly old white people, including a short little bitty lady wearing a widow’s veil. Jacob hadn’t been married at the time of his death according to his obit, so it couldn’t be that group. In the middle was a mixed group of white and black folks. Jacob Fields having been a bigot, Damian doubted there’d be any black folks at his funeral other than himself. Finally to his right was the funeral he guessed must be for Jacob. A mix of young and old alike. All white, of course. He squinted, trying to see if he could spot the reason he’d come all this way to this tiny little town in Alabama. But he didn’t. Still, he knew Jacob Fields Junior…Jake would be there for his father. Years ago Jake had given up everything important in his life to please his father…even Damian. Damian began the walk toward the group, his muscles stiff and tight. The long drive made sure his limp showed. The injury to his left knee had ended his football career as a quarterback and even now after numerous surgeries it was never the same. He’d donned a navy suit for the somber occasion. He felt a bit stupid in it. He never felt comfortable in suits, though sometimes life insisted on them. Damian could just make out a dark haired man taller than most of the other guests. He couldn’t be quite sure, but he thought it must be Jake. Jake, a former wide receiver, was six foot-five and difficult to miss. Just then an older woman wearing a black pantsuit shifted to the left. Straight through the space she had just occupied stood Jake. Damian’s heart twisted. His step faltered and he stopped in the middle of the parking lot. Jake Fields. The one man he had loved in this world more than anyone and the one who’d broken his heart. For several heartbeats, Damian just stared. The man was simply breathtakingly gorgeous. Strong, broad shoulders, big bulging biceps…visible even in his black suit…square, rugged jaw. Even from this far away, Damian could see just a touch of silver at Jake’s temples. He wasn’t that old. Only thirty-eight. But on Jake it looked absurdly sexy. Jake’s gaze was on one of the mourners and Damian could see Jake waving his hands as he spoke. He hadn’t yet noticed Damian. If he turned and hobbled back to his car Jake might not even know he’d been there. Damian snorted derisively. “You may be a lot of things, Damian Grant. But you aren’t a coward,” he spoke out loud to himself. No, he’d come this far. He would see it through. See Jake again. Years ago they’d been teammates and lovers. Jake was Damian’s wide receiver of choice back in the day. It seemed completely natural as quarterback to seek out Jake’s tall, muscular frame and throw his pass to him. Time and time again they combined to make the touchdowns for their team. Then after the games, they’d have intense wild s*x that left both of them breathless. Life and the two of them seemed unstoppable. Damian grimaced at his own fanciful thoughts. He took a couple more stiff steps toward the funeral party. One of the other mourners, the woman who’d previously blocked Jake, noticed his approach. Her frown deepened and she stepped away from the rest to greet him. “I’m sorry, mister,” the woman said, looking to be in her sixties. “But I was told the next funeral wasn’t scheduled for another hour. We’re not quite done here.” Damian nodded. “This is the funeral for Jacob Fields, right?” She stiffened. “Yes.” “I came for that funeral,” he said simply. He tried not to notice her pursed lips. He went to move past her. “Excuse me,” she said, speaking in a sharp tone. “But just who are you?” “I’m a mourner like everyone else, ma’am.” “Well, I am Caroline Fields, Jacob’s sister, and I can assure you that I do not know who you are.” He nodded again and kept moving toward the mourners…toward Jake. He was aware Caroline Fields was blustering behind him, but he paid her no attention. He was only a few feet from Jake now. Just then, Jake stopped mid-sentence and turned to look at him. The piercing crystal blue eyes blinked rapidly. Damian remembered those damn eyes so well. They were the most gorgeous set of peepers he’d ever seen. And the same long, thick lashes framed them. Jake’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and then he muttered something to the person he’d been talking to and walked toward Damian. “Damian?” He said the name as though asking a question, yet Damian guessed Jake already knew it was him. “Jake, do you know this man?” Caroline Fields asked behind him. Her voice was frosty like the wind in a snowstorm. “Yes, Aunt Caroline. Why don’t you go back to speak to the minister?” The slight Southern accent was still noticeable in Jake’s voice. Back when they’d been together Jake had wanted to get rid of it entirely, but Damian had always found it appealing. Jake kept his gaze focused intently on Damian. He crossed the remaining distance between them. “Hello, Jake,” Damian managed to say. To his surprise, Jake grabbed his hands and drew him farther away from the prying eyes of Aunt Caroline and the other guests. Jake looked back over his broad shoulders, but he did not release his grasp of Damian’s hands. “I can’t believe you’re here,” Jake said. “When did you…how?” “I read the obituary for your father,” Damian explained. “I’m sorry about your dad.” Jake nodded. “Thank you. He’d been ill for a while.” Jake shrugged, causing the suit coat to stretch across his broad shoulders. “The minister’s about to have the graveside service. Would you—can you stay and come over to the house afterward? I’d really like to talk to you.” “Of course.” Damian followed him over to the group, aware of the stares he received. Some were just curious, others more hostile. He took it in stride. Being a big, former professional football player he was used to stares. The minister started the service and Damian stood nearby, remaining silent and respectful, his eyes downcast, even though he wanted to look at Jake. “Jacob’s son will now say a few words,” the minister said. Damian watched Jake move forward to stand in front of the gathered mourners. “As most of you know my father and I had our differences. Growing up, my mom often played peacemaker between us. It was a dark day indeed for both of us when she passed. But even though we didn’t always see eye to eye on things, my father loved me and I loved him. In these last few years while he’d been ill we got a little closer.” Jake paused. “There were a lot of things left unsaid still. But I think my father was happy he would be joining my mother in rest now. They’ll be reunited in Heaven.” Damian knew very well some of the things Jake had left unsaid with his father. Like the fact that he was gay. Thirty-eight years old and Damian was pretty sure Jake’s father went to his grave thinking his son was straight. After the mourners threw dirt on the coffin, Jake gave him a slip of paper with his house’s address on it and then he walked off with his Aunt Caroline toward a big dark car.