Archive of Our Own ^beta

1.  First Day
“Is this a fucking joke?”

Probably, Ted’s brain answers before the uproar of the press room overwhelms his thinking self entirely. Eventually Rebecca quells the ravening hoards, but Ted can’t help notice Trent Crimm, the Independent, sitting still through all of it, glasses in hand and a skeptical furrow in his brow.

Trent’s there at the next press conference, and the next, asking Ted questions about basic soccer— sorry, football— knowledge. His questions aren’t pop-culture ones like some of his colleagues try to get by. No, Trent asks about the core aspects of the game, the offsides rule, the purpose of the midfielders and defenders, as though it’s an oral exam and Ted is his only student. Ted wants to be offended, but as he’s proven already the questions are fair enough, and so Ted finds himself studying more, reading the small library Beard has brought over in his spare time: not to keep up with Beard or bond with the team, but to satisfy that stern teacher in the second row, to win a smile from his wide mouth.

2.  
Trent has a background categorization running in his brain at all times regarding every male-bodied person he encounters: fuckable or not fuckable. The lists are permeable; there tends to be more motion from fuckable to not fuckable, as he gets to know people better and their flaws overwhelm any physical beauty, but people have moved the other direction.

It’s not typically an in-depth analysis, as he meets a large number of fit— in every sense of the word— people in his occupation. Most of the Richmond team has remained on the fuckable list, since he doesn’t know them well; Roy Kent and Jamie Tartt are the two personalities who stand out on the team, and both personalities move them quickly to not-fuckable. George Cartrick, of course, started and remained not fuckable.

The new American coaching staff is more difficult to pin down. Beard is intimidating, but appears to know what he’s doing, so is tentatively fuckable (later he will move to the other list, because Trent has never trusted zaniness). Ted Lasso is even more difficult. Trent distantly registers that his build is better kept than many coaches, but his entire demeanor is so ridiculously incompetent that he is fairly quickly a tentative not-fuckable.

But he keeps showing up to press conferences, doing the work, open to criticism, supporting his team with every fiber of his being even when they don’t deserve it. Trent realizes that some of the initial incompetence may have been jet lag, and uncategorizes him again; and after their day together for the profile he is somewhat horrified to find himself piping up in Ted’s defense to Roy Kent, and Ted becomes definitely fuckable.

Trent blames literature.

But it’s not a big deal; the list is background, just noise, and does not interfere with Trent’s job or his life outside of work, which is mostly tied up with his daughter. He carries some faint hope, when he thinks about it at all, that Ted will move beyond fuckable into the much-less-used third category, tentatively labeled “friends I like too much to fuck.” Somehow knowing a person well enough, even when they are a lovely human being, often removes a man’s fuckability.

3.
Trent knows better than to look at any feedback to his articles, but he’s confronted by it in the flesh when he takes Lyra to their favorite bookstore a few days after the Wayward Ted article comes out, and the subject is there himself. “Trent Crimm, the Independent!” Ted exclaims. “This your daughter?”

(“You got kids, Trent?”
“A daughter.”
“Then you know— like walkin’ around with your heart outside your chest. I read that somewhere, can’t remember where. I’m hoping it all works out but I sure do miss Henry in the meantime.”)

Lyra is clinging to his first two fingers; he leans down and picks her up. Her dark eyes stare at Ted. “Yes, this is Lyra.”

Ted’s smile is bright enough to overtake the sun. “Howdy, Miss Lyra. My name’s Ted. Phillip Pullman?” he adds to Trent.

“Indeed.”

“What’s your favorite animal, Lyra? You got a daemon yet?”

Lyra ignores this. “There’s hair on your face,” she informs Ted instead. Trent kisses her hair to hide his smile. At two-and-a-half, Lyra has the communication skills of at least a four-year-old; Trent’s father says he was the same way.

“There sure is,” Ted agrees. “How old are you?”

She contemplates him a minute longer, then summons all her fine motor skill and holds up two fingers. “And a half,” Trent adds. “She’ll be three in April.”

“A fine time of year,” says Ted. “I won’t intrude on your book store experience— that’d be heresy there— unless—” he eyes Lyra with a playful sideways glance. “Unless you wanted to read a story with me and let your dad browse. I bet he’s a good browser, huh Lyra?”

“Do you routinely try to kidnap near-stranger’s children?” Trent asks lightly. He can’t fear for Lyra with Ted, and it’s probably a kind thought on Ted’s part. But forward, definitely.

Ted laughs. “Nah, just missing that developing-brain time. I’ll leave y’all to it. Hey, nice article, Trent. ‘Preciate you giving me the benefit of the doubt.”

“You’re welcome,” says Trent as Ted vanishes out the door, waving still to Lyra, who lifts her hand in response as soon as Ted’s back is turned.

Trent only realizes later that Ted didn’t have any book in his hand, or his usual backpack. Well, maybe he hadn’t wanted to buy anything, a concept Trent has never managed to wrap his head around.

He and Lyra have a standing date at the bookstore, once a month on Sundays. Ted’s already there the next time they arrive, reading an Agatha Christie in the corner armchair, which means he must have been there as soon as it opened— Trent and Lyra get there early themselves, small children not being late sleepers. Ted sees them come in, lifts a hand and waves, but doesn’t leave his book or try to talk to Trent. It’s Lyra who makes friends, wandering over when Trent is taking his five minutes of solo browsing time, commenting on the continued presence of Ted’s mustache. Trent hears the words in the back of his mind and looks up several minutes later to find Lyra and Ted in serious conversation over a lift-the-flap book she’s selected. Ted’s whole focus is on Lyra, listening solemnly to her discourse, and Trent melts a little bit. Stronger than parental anxiety is the knowledge that Ted Lasso, when he turns his full attention on you, is the best listener Trent has ever met, and Trent can’t help but like someone who clearly likes his child.

It keeps happening. Ted either comes to the bookstore every Sunday or has gotten their schedule out of Lyra— Trent doesn’t think he’s mentioned it himself— and it’s only another month before he has Lyra wedged beside him in the squashy chair, reading to her as Trent enjoys proper, undivided-attention browsing for the first time in years.
There’s a book about a birthday party, and Trent hears Lyra inform Ted, “It’s going to be my birthday soon.”

“Oh yeah?” Ted says. “Are you gonna be… sixteen?” She giggles and shakes her head. “Forty-two?” Trent rolls his eyes.

“I’m going to be three!” Lyra scolds Ted, holding up the requisite fingers.

“Well that’s very exciting. What day is your birthday, Miss Lyra?” And when she tells him, “Do you like cookies— sorry, biscuits— with icing?”

“Yes!”

“And sprinkles. Yes or no?”

“Yes!” Trent can barely hear the word, her pitch is so high.

“I tell you what, I will give your daddy some iced biscuits with sprinkles for you on your birthday. Ain’t every day a girl turns three.”

“You can give them to her yourself,” Trent says, his hand settling Lyra’s hair as he comes up. “She’ll spend the morning with her grandparents and they’ll drop her off at Nelson Road so we can have a special lunch. Birthday tradition— well, it will be once we’ve had a few more years of it.”

Ted smiles as broadly as Trent’s ever seen. “Then I will see you in a few weeks on your birthday, Miss Lyra.”

She’s skipping as they walk away.

Trent had registered, with the part of his mind struggling to maintain a professional boundary with Ted, that Ted’s shirts had been a little more wrinkly for a few weeks, his eyes a little more shadowed, his affability in the press room more of a veneer and less emanating from his skin. He’s glad to see Ted’s smile reach his eyes, the unguarded chuckle Lyra gets from him. It’s the tabloid reporters who spread about the reason: divorce. Trent tries very hard not to learn more about it than that. He’s seen enough friends and colleagues go through divorces to know how hard they are, even amicable ones, and he doesn’t want Ted to have to think about it, here in this sanctuary of books.

4.
Pieces of Ted’s brain are cheeping anxiously at his after he leaves Rebecca’s office, happy to see Higgins again, worried about the cookies— they were Lyra’s cookies— you have more cookies at home— do I have time to get them— what if someone had promised Henry cookies and didn’t deliver— she’s three— she’s too smart to not notice—

This is why he’s part of a team. He texts Beard that something came up, he’ll be half an hour late, and jogs home to box up some extras. The boys have barely started their drills when he gets to the pitch.

It’s worth the anxiety when he sees Lyra’s face later. Even the parts of Nelson Road open to journalists are echoing and noisy, and she’s on Trent’s hip with her face in his shoulder when Ted spots them just before noon. Trent nods to him and whispers to Lyra, and she peeks out.  She is slight, like her father, with the same dark hair, still toddler-silky, and skin a shade lighter than Trent’s olive.

Ted smiles and waves, bright as he can, and she wiggles until Trent puts her down. “Happy birthday, Miss Lyra,” Ted says once she’s scampered over to him, and squats to give her the cookies. She needs help with the box, and gasps with delight once she sees the rainbow sprinkles.

“Can I have one, Daddy? Pleeeeeease?”

Trent eyes them. “One. And one more after lunch, if you’ve still got room.”

“You having a good birthday?” Ted asks her as she dithers over which cookie to select. She doesn’t notice the question.

“My parents spoil her rotten,” Trent says dryly. “She’s managing to enjoy her day somehow.”

“Hey, that’s what grandparents are for,” Ted says. “Make that two bites, hon, you’ll enjoy it more.” Lyra gives him a stink-eye— he’s not supposed to pull parent-advice on her, he’s the fun one— but obeys. Ted smiles.

“I’ve gotta get back to work,” he says, standing. “Enjoy your birthday lunch, Miss Lyra. I’ll see you around.”

“What do you say to Ted?” Trent prompts Lyra.

“Thank you!” she mumbles, managing to keep most of the cookie in her mouth.

“You’re welcome. Good to see you, Trent.”

Trent nods. He keeps a curtain of reserve between himself and Ted, and Ted understands why: conflict of interest keeps journalists and coaches from being friends. It’s too bad. He and Trent could be friends, he thinks, based just on their bookstore habits. Beard doesn’t read children’s novels. But doing the job right is important, and Ted is grateful Trent lets Lyra be his friend.

He waves her off down the hall, and returns to work.

5.  Second season with Richmond

Ted doesn’t look well as he scuttles off the pitch. Trent tries not to worry about him. He does, of course, but he almost manages to pretend it’s for Lyra’s sake, and he almost manages to pretend his burning curiosity is purely the journalist in him.

(Even after Ted lies to him, he remains fuckable. It’s very annoying.)

Ted feels bad about lying to Trent. He doesn’t like lying, but he can’t even tell Beard this. Beard knows him better than anyone— except maybe Rebecca, now, the only one who knows this part— but Ted has a deep conviction that this thing in him cannot be brought to light. Boxed up deep in the closet of his soul, maybe it will shrivel.

And so he draws back from Trent, inasmuch as Trent had let him get near at all; he skips a Sunday he knows the Crimms will be at the bookstore; he doesn’t do more than nod at Trent when he sees him in the halls. It’s safer, even if it makes him feel worse.

6.
Lyra’s birthday falls on a Sunday this year.  Ted’s not at the bookstore as often as he used to be, but he makes sure to be there that day, box of cookies and all. Trent actually smiles when he sees him, and nudges Lyra over.  “Happy birthday, Lyra,” Ted tells her.  “Sorry I haven’t been here as much.”  He’d like to add some excuse, but can’t come up with one that would get past Trent.

Lyra starts to open the box, and Trent stops her.  “Not in the store, daemon.  We’ll have to wait until we’re home.”

"I’ll read a story if you like, though, Lyra,” Ted offers.  “Or two or three even.”  Lyra nods, and Trent mouths thank you over her head at Ted.  Ted flicks his eyebrows up at Trent, the universal parental rueful look.  They’re all in this together.

After twenty minutes Ted’s read Lyra three books— she’s got a good attention span and sits through longer ones than Henry did at this age— and Trent come back from the speculative fiction to reclaim her.  Ted finishes up the fourth book with Trent listening— The Day the Crayons Quit, a good one for voices— and boosts Lyra down to pick something else.  

“Thank you,” says Trent.  “Time to myself is a minimum; I appreciate you reading to her.”

Ted stands up and smiles at Trent.  “No problem,” he says.  “I miss story time.  Thanks for letting me hang out with Miss Lyra.”  He’s curious, but doesn’t ask, about Trent’s family.  Lyra’s grandparents have gotten brief mentions occasionally, but never a mother or partner of any kind.  Given Ted’s recent history, he can hardly pry. 

Lyra pulls out three books and frowns at them.  Ted and Trent watch.

“I feel I should apologize, Coach Lasso,” Trent says.

Ted looks over and lets his eyebrows do most of the talking. “Why’s that, Trent?”

”Your first press conference. I was, perhaps, unnecessarily harsh.”

Ted laughs: of all the things that might have offended him these past eighteen months, that doesn’t rank in the top hundred. Come to think of it, Trent’s never offended him.  “You didn’t say anything more than what everybody and their uncle was thinkin’. Kinda nice to have it out there in the open. You’re a straight shooter, Trent Crimm, and I’d rather have that than someone spyin’ around tryin’ to dig up dirt.”

Trent nods, understanding. “Yes, the Sun is something quite spectacular, isn’t it.”

Lyra interrupts them, pulling insistently at Trent’s sleeve. “Daddy, I want this one.”  Trent bends down to her, and Ted leaves them to their day together.  

7.

Trent sighs as Nate leaves the tiny coffee shop they’d met at. Everything makes sense now, and he wishes he were still in the dark. He doesn’t know what to think of Nate: Ted made him, and Nate would betray that? It seems unlike Ted to so misjudge a person.

He writes the article, every word a drop of blood; the only way he manages it at all is imagining what The Sun would make of it. He can spare Ted that, at least.

Once it’s gone past his editor he gets Lyra from her nursery, makes dinner, tucks her in to bed. “Would you like to go to the bookstore tomorrow?” he asks after her final book, and realizes he’s already decided what to do.

He texts Ted. No comment, comes the response, to his utter lack of surprise.

He texts his parents, I’ll be unemployed tomorrow afternoon. Want to have lunch?

He sleeps well that night.

8.  Third season with Richmond

Ted’s heart jumps up a little when he comes into Rebecca’s office and finds Trent Crimm there asking to write a book. He understands why Rebecca doesn’t want it; he can see everyone’s point of view, but he’s just so happy to see Trent he can’t bring himself to care. Trent Crimm, keeping him honest.

As Ted leaves the building Trent’s there, waiting in what Ted is starting to think of as his spot, shoulders against the sun-warmed brick. “Ted!” Trent calls, straightening, but Ted has already turned toward him.

“Hey, Trent! I wanted to say, personally, it’s real good to have you around again. And I’m honored you think we’re interesting enough to write a book about.”

“That’s the first thing I wanted to say, actually,” Trent says, the sun turning his smile into a squint. “Thank you for letting me stay— I know none of the others were at all keen.”

Ted had watched Trent’s face, albeit peripherally, for every second of that decision in Rebecca’s office, and he knows Trent had looked only at him. “How’d you figure that?”

Trent’s squint turns wry. “As both a parent and a former journalist, my bullshit detector is top-notch.”

Ted huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, I guess it’d have to be.” He tips his head a little as he considers Trent. “You know what my first solid memory of bein’ here at Richmond is?”

“No,” Trent says, visibly keeping himself from reaching for his notebook.

“You, asking me if this was all a fucking joke. I’d been awake for about thirty hours at that point, and Rebecca was rushing me all over the place, and that just really cut through the crap nicely.”

Trent laughs out loud. “God, Ted, I am sorry. Of all the memories to hang on to.”

Ted grins back. “Nah. Good to have you there. Always keepin’ me honest, Trent Crimm.”

Trent sobers, though there’s still a smile lingering. “That was the other thing I wanted to say— I shan’t grovel for doing my job well, but I did want to apologize in person for writing about the panic attacks.”

Ted’s thought about this, maybe more than is healthy but that’s what the anxiety’s for, right? “It woulda happened one way or another, Trent. You did it better than most people would have, I bet. Kinder.”

Trent looks away. “‘Kind’ isn’t a word journalists get called very often.”

“And you’re not a journalist anymore. Math checks out to me, Ida Lee.” Ted hesitates. “My therapist says, the truth will set you free, but first it’ll piss you off. I guess you made me a little more free.”

Trent looks back at him, intent, the setting sun bringing out red highlights in his hair. “Here’s to freedom, then,” he says.

“To freedom.”

9.

The players may not be talking to Trent, but Beard and Ted aren’t limiting themselves, and Trent hears three different word-puzzles before the morning is out. He assumes Beard, with his chess background and local girlfriend, has found these already, so it’s Ted he approaches with the morning’s crossword the next day.  “Have you tried British crosswords, Ted?” he asks.  Ted looks up and smiles— Ted always seems genuinely happy to see Trent— and looks at the newspaper Trent offers him.

 “I haven’t,” he says. “They different from American ones too?  Those are mostly just trivia, and while I do love me some trivia it’s a bit much for every morning.”  

“Word play added on,” Trent says.  “It seemed the sort of thing you might enjoy.”

Ted looks at the two Trent has managed to fill in.  “Ooo. Oh, this is a good one. Coach, you seen these crosswords before?” He looks over at Beard.

“Yup. Jane beats me at it every morning.”

“Well, hell, why didn’t y’all share? This beats the New York Times crossword hollow.”

Trent smiles.  At least Ted won’t kick him out.  “Feel free to keep that one; I never get very far.”

Ted smiles back. “That’s real thoughtful, Trent, thank you.” And he solves half of it in the next twenty minutes.  Trent tries not to melt into a puddle in the face of such competence.

10.

Beard is the only one in the office the morning Trent arrives with Lyra in tow, and his greeting is the most normal response Trent has yet seen from him. Beard smiles at Lyra, a real, warm, adult-seeing-cute-child smile that crinkles his eyes and brings out dimples— dimples!— and says, “Hey there! Who are you?”

Lyra still finds the echoing hallways a bit much, and only stares. “This is my daughter Lyra,” Trent says, smoothing his hand down her ponytail. “We had a bit of a hiccup in arrangements today, but I thought she’d be able to stay with me for a few hours anyway, and then we’ll leave a bit early.”

“Sure,” says Beard. “I’m Coach Beard, Lyra. It’s nice to meet you. Do you want a cushion to sit on?”

Lyra nods, and settles in enough by Trent’s chair to whisper to him, “Does everyone here have hair on their face?”

“No,” Trent begins to reply, and then Roy walks in. “Well, perhaps yes. This is my daughter Lyra,” he tells Roy. “She’s with me today, and was wondering about facial hair on the Richmond coaching staff.”

Roy grunts thoughtfully. “Never thought about that before. It’s nice to meet you,” he nods at Lyra. “My name’s Roy, I’m going to use a lot of grown-up language around you even though I’ll try not to. Don’t let your dad hear you repeat it.”

Lyra nods solemnly back. “My daddy says grown-up language shows a limited vocabulary and lack of imagination.” Trent covers his smile with a hand. Lyra’s been to enough football games to have heard salty language in spades, and that is indeed what Trent tells her.

“Too right,” says Roy. “I played too much football and didn’t read enough books when I was your age.” He nods to Trent, who returns the gesture.  One of the biggest surprises of following Richmond has been that Roy Kent has actual people skills, when he chooses to use them, and apparently this extends to small children.   Trent is beginning to understand how the polished, brilliant Keeley Jones spent a year or more with him, though he’s still too intimidated by Roy to put him back on the fuckable list.  “My niece has a swear jar for me, and I pay her at least a thousand quid a month. Her mum says it’s for a house of her own someday.”

Trent is about to make some remark when Ted comes in. “Miss Lyra! To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“Everyone here has hair on their face,” Lyra informs Ted, who looks around the coaching staff.

“Huh,” he says. “You know, I never thought about that. Trent, you want to start coaching, you need to work on that.”

“Doesn’t work, I’m afraid,” Trent replies.

“But what’s up, Lyra?” Ted asks her.  “Why you here with us today?”

“Elaine is throwing up,” she tells him.

Trent jumps in. “She was going to spend today with her friend Elaine, but as she says, there’s an illness, and my parents are out of town. We’ll leave a bit early, and she’s got plenty to do for a few hours.” He doesn’t mind what Roy and Beard think of Lyra, he finds, but Ted matters.

“Of course!” Ted says. “I am sure Miss Lyra will be an integral part of the coaching staff for today.” Roy is frowning at Ted, who looks up at him. “Now don’t give me that look, Roy, me and Lyra are bookstore buddies. She can handle herself.”

Roy grunts. Trent relaxes a little.

The Richmond locker room turns out to be surprisingly child-friendly, despite the language. Many of the players have nieces or nephews, a few small children of their own, and everyone seems happy to embrace a small female mascot for the morning.  Ted goes into dad-mode and somehow becomes even more himself, assuming responsibility for Lyra with a questioning smile in her direction and a nod at Trent. Lyra stretches and does some laps with the players, then runs back and forth happily between Trent’s side and Ted’s as she watches drills. It’s a good morning, everyone working hard and no one eager to cause drama, listening thoughtfully to each other and the coaches. Roy’s attempts to swear less don’t bear much fruit, but Lyra doesn’t seem to notice.

When they come back inside, following the players, and re-enter the coaching office, Trent can actually see Ted’s shoulder’s drop, relaxing as he sees Lyra. Ted sounds almost wistful as he asks if they’ll be back after lunch; Trent raises his eyebrows at Lyra who nods solemnly. “I’m going to draw pictures of beards,” she tells Ted, who grins.

At the end of the day— Lyra has lasted surprisingly well, and Ted has glanced at them several times as the afternoon goes on, checking she’s still there—Lyra passes out drawings to all the coaches, who all accept them as the masterworks they are. Ted immediately tapes his up on the wall, and Lyra grins at him. “See you Sunday, Coach!”

Ted’s smile back at her is different than almost every smile Trent’s seen on him. He didn’t realize until now that there’s a little anxiety at the edge of Ted’s smiles most of the time, but not when he looks at Lyra. Not when no one’s watching him, and he can just be a dad. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Miss Lyra,” he says.

Trent hustles Lyra out before he can see anyone else’s face at that particular exchange.

11.
Ted’s doing paperwork, Beard is reading, Trent is rearranging his book outline with the door slid open, when the music changes and Ted lifts his head.  “If I had a million dollars,” he sings along, and Beard joins in the echo without missing a beat.  Trent feels his eyebrows rise higher and higher as the two continue to sing along in perfect time.  Obviously the song was made for Ted, with its easy country sway and charming puns— and when had he started finding puns charming, Trent wonders, even as he snorts at “but not a real green dress, that’s cruel.”

He can’t help but roll into the doorway to fully appreciate the performance; when Ted and Beard ooo through the closing chords he applauds. Beard tips his cap and Ted grins at Trent, who sorts through several layers of comments that have built up— best not to point out they are both likely millionaires, nor that money hadn’t bought Michelle’s love, nor that Trent has quite a fetching green dress in the back of his closet from university drag days. “Dare I ask what Kraft dinner is?”

“Mac and cheese from a box,” Ted replies promptly.

“Cheesey dinner,” Beard puts in, and Ted turns to him.

“Really? They got Kraft mac and cheese all the way over here? Well, I may have to find my way to a grocery store sometime soon. How’d I miss that?”

12.
The morning of Lyra’s fifth birthday, Trent’s desk bears a familiar small pink box. Inside he finds, as expected, three perfectly iced biscuits, rainbows arching into puffy clouds. “Ted,” Trent says, “this really wasn’t necessary. But thank you.”

Ted comes over the lean in the doorway; Roy isn’t in yet, though Beard of course has his nose in a book and his feet on the desk in the other office. “I like to. Hard to keep cookies good all the way to Kansas, even overnighted, y’know?”

Oh, this man is ridiculous. Dogs and children as dating props— Trent has always known better than to fall for that. Still, he can’t help smiling at Ted. “When is Henry’s birthday?”

“July. Good planning in hindsight, though Michelle wasn’t too tickled by it— those summer birthdays make your school grade a little off.”

Trent is probably more relieved than he should be to hear that Ted will, in fact, be able to be home for his son’s birthday. “Well, if you’re craving small children’s birthday parties you’re welcome to come to Lyra’s Sunday. She’s only having a couple of friends over, and my parents will be there, but I expect the decibels to overwhelm our aged ears fairly quickly.”

Ted brightens right up. “Hey, that’s a real kind invitation, Trent. I’d be honored. Lyra got a favorite animal these days?”

“Bears, I’m afraid. Why, I couldn’t tell you, but her passion outstrips all previous passions.”

Ted grins. “Bears it is.”

And Ted does come, with a plate of biscuits iced like different types of bears— “I didn’t know if she had a preference between grizzlies or black bears or polar bears—“ and relaxes in the woodland tea party Trent and his parents have managed to produce, lighting up with every interaction the children bestow on him. The adults mostly hang back, and Ted charms Trent’s parents with tales of Henry, and Trent wonders again how Ted has lasted this long away from his son.  Trent’s mother gives him several meaningful glances; considering how difficult it was to convince her of his homosexuality he really feels she’s overly invested in his dating life.  Trent’s dad doesn’t say anything about Ted as a potential partner, but he and Ted have such a good time punning at each other Trent knows he’ll be mentioning Ted for months to come.

13.
Roy has gone, grunting noncommittally (but Ted can tell he was pleased) at Rebecca’s “Well done,” after his press conference. Beard got a text from Jane and disappeared within three seconds, flinging a hand over his shoulder at Ted’s “Good night, Coach.” Ted takes a moment to breathe, to savor the rubber-sweat-disinfectant scent of the locker room. He pulls out his phone and responds to texts from Michelle and Henry. The moments after a successful game, especially such an emotionally charged one, Ted is grateful for any time to consciously unwind.

Trent’s not noisy about packing his things, but his appearance at the door of the office breaks Ted’s reverie. “Well done today, Ted,” he says.

“Thanks, Trent,” Ted says, and when Trent doesn’t move he realizes it isn’t just the successful game Trent’s talking about. “Like I told you that one time, it’s not just about winning and losing. It’s about helping these young men be the best they can be all around.”

The side of Trent’s mouth tilts up. “I recall. And… we’ve come a long way, societally, but there’s still not another team in the country that would have been as supportive of Colin today. Certainly not another manager who would have made a speech like you did. It’s… quite gratifying.  Denver Broncos and all.”

“Hey, I appreciate that, Trent.” Trent has dropped some of his journalistic reserve in his months with the team, though Ted doesn’t think he’ll ever be outgoing, and sometimes he still tries to pretend he’s an impartial observer.  But more often, now, he gives Ted dry glances over the top of his glasses, and teases Ted about his Americanisms.  It makes Ted uncomplicatedly happy.  Now, instead of teasing back, Ted’s brain kicks in, and all the small small details he’s observed over years click into place. “Personal for you, huh?”

The other side of Trent’s mouth rises too, though he smiles down at the desk before meeting Ted’s eyes. “The vibe again?”

“Kinda. But also, couldn’t help but notice Colin seems to depend on you a little.”

“Mmm. It’s not something I talk about a great deal, but it’s not a secret either.  Colin and I had rather a heart-to-heart in Amsterdam.”

“Good, good. Glad to hear it.” And Ted is glad, too, that Trent considers him trustworthy enough to share that much of himself.

“Well,” Trent says, shaking himself a bit— Ted admires the ripple of his hair before it settles again— “I’d best go. Lyra awaits.”

“Can’t keep Miss Lyra waitin’. You say hi to her for me.”

“Will do, Ted. Have a good night.”

“You too, Trent. ‘Preciate you.”

14.
Trent is as excited and curious as the players to meet Ted’s mother— is the startling number of kebabs related to her visit?— but then he catches sight of Ted, almost hunched at his desk, outright frowning as he watches the boys cluster around her. Ted does not, as a rule, frown.

Trent asks his questions, and confirms some of them with Ted, and wonders. He’d done his research, before; he knows Ted is the only child of a widowed mother. He doesn’t know much else, and now he wonders: when did Ted’s father die, what was it like being the child of this woman, what is missing? Charming though she is, Trent is old enough to see past her stories into some passive aggression, some brittleness that might be difficult to handle, without ballast. Did Ted have ballast?

Today Rebecca seems to be taking care of it, so Trent holds his peace. He quite respects Rebecca by now, and she clearly loves Ted, somehow platonically (for Ted remains stubbornly fuckable), with her whole heart. Ted’s not alone now, if he ever was.

It's no surprise, the next day, to learn that Ted will be leaving at the end of the season.  Dottie Lasso was the prophet come to drag the hero back to his hometown; Ted was always destined to leave Richmond. 

15.  Final game day

Trent’s not back in his office as Ted walks out of the building with Beard.  He left his copy of the book with its note on Trent’s desk, but now he pauses.  There should be more to it than that.  He has Trent’s number, he knows where he lives, he could follow up and have a final book store date with Lyra before he goes.  It’s not enough.

”You go ahead,” he tells Beard.  “Forgot something.”  He waits until Beard has passed through the gate, and sets his shoulders against the wall in Trent’s spot.  They’ve left late, and it’s fully dark, though he can’t see the stars through the parking lot lights.

Trent comes out fifteen minutes later, moving slowly. “Trent!” Ted calls, and Trent turns back toward him.  

“Everything all right, Ted?”

Ted opens his mouth not knowing what’s going to come out.  “Can I touch your hair?”

There’s a chasm opening inside his chest, a vast echoing abyss. He knows that abyss; he’s fallen in it before.  It’s not a panic attack: it’s darker and more echoing, but his senses still work.  It’s easier to back away from the abyss than to try and close it, try and fly.

But sometimes, there’s a bridge across.

“May I,” says Trent, apparently automatically before his mind really hears Ted’s question, and the bridge across Ted’s chasm is steadied by the nitpicking.

“Trent Crimm,” he says. “May I touch your hair?”

Trent looks like he might be teetering on the edge of his own chasm, his expression utterly flabbergasted. “Why?”

Ted doesn’t know. He’s never known. And also: he’s always known. “Cuz it looks like the finest thing I’ve ever seen. And I’d like to.”

Trent takes a step toward him, apparently mesmerized. Ted takes that as permission and lifts a hand. Trent’s hair is not soft exactly, not like Henry’s downy baby hair or Michelle’s silkiness, but there’s a deep springiness to it, like it could take a man’s worries and bury them all on its own.

“It’s going gray,” Trent says, not moving as Ted touches gently, just with two fingers, along his temple, behind his ear.

And Ted’s on the other side of that bridge, the abyss still there but getting smaller every moment. He smiles. “That’s wisdom right there, Trent, and right good-looking, I’d say. Somethin’ awful distinguished about the salt-and-pepper look, I’ve always envied it. Now, I’ve got almost as much gray as you, prolly, maybe scattered a little more, but my head just gets duller and duller each year, nothing like that mane you’ve got. Silver fox, don’t they call it.”

Trent is smiling, warmth in his eyes as Ted natters on. “I believe silver fox is more the Michael Douglass look.” He raises his own hand, runs the pads of his fingers up along Ted’s temple. Ted shivers.

“Ted,” Trent says. “Have you ever kissed a man?”

“No sirree, I sure have not.”

“Would you like to?”

Ted looks at Trent, who is smiling at him, this man who swore at him not three hours after he stepped into England, this man who has become his dear friend, this man who, despite that initial question, has always taken him seriously.  

“Yes please,” says Ted.

The kiss is slow and gentle, a world away from Sassy’s take-no-prisoners approach, and it goes all the way through Ted, a full-body shiver coming right out his toes. It is like nothing Ted has ever felt before, and he stares at Trent mutely when Trent pulls back. How many decades has he gone without noticing this thing about himself, with just assuming he’s like everyone else because it wasn’t too painful to go along?
Trent’s smile has started to fade in the glare of Ted’s astonishment, and Ted can’t allow that. “I been doing this wrong for twenty years,” Ted says, and kisses Trent again.

Trent breaks their kiss again— Ted doesn’t think he would ever stop, given the choice— and regards Ted seriously, a questioning lift to his eyebrows. “Thank you,” says Ted wholeheartedly. “Trent— thank you.”

Trent smiles, a little wry, a little sad. “You’re very welcome,” he said. “It’s an honor, Ted.”

“Twenty years,” Ted says. “Longer— twenty-five. I been kissing the wrong people this whole time.”

The sadness is more pronounced in Trent’s smile. “Regrets?”

Ted has to think about that. “Yes— but also no. I mean, there’s Henry. And Michelle was my best friend for twenty years. I guess I wish that coulda been on a more honest footing. I wish I could be best friends with her and kissin’ you.”

“When do you leave?”

“Ten days.” Ten days to pack up his life in England, to say goodbye to all the people he loves here; ten days back to Henry.

Trent steps away; Ted’s heart falls. “We can’t start something for ten days, Ted.”

Ted sighs. “No. Not much point. But— but thank you for this.”

Trent’s smile is gentle. “Thank you for trusting me.”

Ted takes a step farther back. “I guess this is good night.”

“Goodnight, Ted. Thank you for the book feedback.”

16.

Two days later Ted checks his texts and his heart leaps at a notification from Trent: Would you like to come to mine for dinner tonight?

To be clear, I have every intention of kissing you again, and if you wanted to spend the night I’d be very happy.

What about Lyra, Ted texts back.

A sound sleeper, and if there’s anyone I trust to behave round my child it’s you

Ted grins to himself. Well, all righty then. A depressing portion of his apartment is already packed— really, did he even live here for three years?— and Beard and Jane have… delicately declined any offers of packing help from him, so he’s almost at loose ends for a week. Trent, who wants to kiss him, and maybe sleep with him (and how exactly will that work, Ted’s brain interjects), and is under no illusions that Ted is going to stay, is just what he needs to keep from spiraling for the next week.

17.
Trent returns to bed, coffee in hand, and regards the head just poking from the covers. Ted has cocooned himself in the duvet, which Trent as usual kicked off during the night.

What am I doing? he asks himself for the thousandth time in the last three days. Holding what you can, he answers himself. He’s had a crush on Ted Lasso for well over a year, if he’s being honest, and if Ted is going through a sexual awakening he doesn’t want a random twink ushering him through this. This will go nowhere: the first thing they bonded over was their children, and Ted is going back to his; Trent may not have a co-parent to consider in Lyra’s life but he does have his own parents and a general stability to maintain. You can write anywhere, says his treacherous brain, and he squashes it. He is not moving to America for a man he kissed for the first time three days ago. He is, however, going to enjoy that man to the fullest extent responsible parenting allows, before he is snatched away by an aeroplane.  

Lyra comes in, her stuffed otter (the closest he could find to a pine marten) tucked carefully in the crook of her arm. “Good morning, Daddy!” she carols, and he smiles. Next to him Ted stirs, his head emerging cautiously, and Trent reaches over a hand to rub his shoulder soothingly, even as he keeps smiling at his daughter.

“Good morning, daemon,” he says. “Sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you,” she says politely. “Pan and I want eggs for breakfast.”

“I think we can manage that,” Trent says. Ted works on sitting up, and Lyra registers him properly. “Why is he here?” she asks Trent.

“We had a sleepover.” A term that is perfectly understandable to a five-year-old, who has no sense at all of the things adults might do together. He turns to Ted, who blinks and starts to smile. “Would you like eggs?”

“Yes please. And do I smell coffee?”

Trent smiles back. He knows his hair has gained its usual 200% extra volume overnight, but Ted’s random spiky bed-head has to win the endearing morning hair prize. “Coffee’s ready in the kitchen. Shower if you like.” He gets out of bed— “I can’t sleep naked,” Ted had said; “I always thought Henry’s come in and find us and be scarred for life.  Never did, though.  Prolly ‘cuz I wore pyjamas.” 

Ted finds him in the kitchen ten minutes later, showered and dressed though not shaved, and kisses his cheek before pouring himself coffee. “Morning, darlin’.”

Trent may just dissipate into the sunlight, he’s so content.

18.
Ted gets six days with Trent. Well, sort of: Trent’s busy with the last chapter of the book, and the final edits all the way around— Ted had a vague impression books took a lot longer to get published than this one seems to be. And Ted has some packing still to do, at the office once his apartment is done, and a variety of lunches and coffees and meetings to wrap up.

But after a regular working day Trent gets Lyra from her daycare— they call it something else here— and the three of them have dinner at the Crimm residence, and maybe color or read some books before Trent tucks Lyra into bed. Ted’s happy to be, however temporarily, a little part of a family, and he’s happy Lyra’s a good sleeper. Once she’s in bed he and Trent explore each other, with mouths and hands but also words, stories about past lovers, family, Lyra’s infancy and Henry’s. Ted’s always thought you should make eye contact while telling a story, but Trent teaches him to tell the hardest stories to his neck, feeling safe and loved but also anonymous. Getting the words out, it appears, is more important than storytelling etiquette. And they fall asleep together, Trent happy to have his covers stolen, and wake in the morning when Lyra and her otter have decided what they want for breakfast.

Ted falls asleep every night more content than he can remember being as an adult, safe in the knowledge that he’s going home, that he’s cared for here in the meantime.  Every time Trent touches him Ted feels his new understanding of himself settle a little more comfortably into place.  He doesn’t have to think, sleeping with Trent; he doesn’t have to worry and fill the spaces with meaningless chatter the way he did with women— Michelle, bless her, was generous and reassuring, and Sassy seemed to get some kind of kick out of Ted talking.  Trent kisses him, and touches him, and Ted is struck dumb by the rightness of it all.

Two days before he leaves, he has a final session with Dr. Sharon. “So, some truth that’s definitely been setting’ me free,” Ted says once the niceties are out of the way. “Ain’t pissed me off yet, but that’ll prolly come.” And he tells her he’s been sleeping with the man who exposed his panic attacks to the world.

“Is this wise, Ted?” Dr. Sharon asks, which he’s pretty sure isn’t a question she’s supposed to ask as a therapist, but he’s glad to hear from a friend.

He rubs his hand over his mouth. “Maybe not, but…. I woulda spent a long, long time wondering about myself, about him, if I hadn’t asked to touch his hair. And he knows I’m leaving, and we been real clear we’re only a thing for this week. So if I’m doin’ wrong by him, he had plenty of time to say no, and if he's doin’ wrong by me… well, he’s not. I’ll miss him, but not as much as I miss Henry and home now, and if I’m gonna figure this part of myself out I’d rather do it with someone I already know and trust. And I don’t have that kind of relationship anywhere in Kansas.”

19.
The morning Ted leaves, Trent kisses him awake early to jerk him off before Lyra’s up. Ted lays there and enjoys it mindlessly, breathes in Trent’s scent, even with morning breath; kisses him gratefully afterward and pulls him into the shower to return the favor. “I’ll miss you,” he tells Trent as they’re trying to summon the urgency to turn the water off.

“Mm.” Trent leans up to kiss him again. “It’s almost nice to have had the end coming before we started. No chance to take the shine off.”

Ted catches his breath against the tiny hurt of that, runs his hand down Trent’s back all the way, makes him shiver, regards him thoughtfully for a sec. “We’re better friends than that, Trent.”

Trent makes a noise Ted can’t describe and turns the water off. “I know. Sorry. Just— I will miss you too, you know. It’s making me cross.”

Ted steps out and hands Trent his towel. “You’re welcome to visit any time that suits you. And I’ll come back after a while here, to visit. Couldn’t just abandon y’all for good.”

Trent lifts his face from his towel. “I don’t think,” he says, “I want to talk about it. Leave it at friends for now.”

They don’t have too long to linger over breakfast, the three of them, because Ted’s meeting Beard back at his flat pretty early. Ted tells Lyra he’s going back home to Kansas today: “What’s Kansas?” she asks.

Ted laughs. “Home for me. You come visit if you want and I’ll show you. It’s real flat and the sky’s bigger than just about anywhere else.”

“Isn’t it Montana that’s ‘big sky country’?” Trent asks. He pronounces the state carefully, a foreign word.

“Hey, you been studying?”

Trent snorts. “Read it somewhere. Don’t flatter yourself.” But he smiles at Ted.

Trent’s drawing back a little, keeping his body away from Ted, and Ted gets it. He doesn’t try to hug Trent goodbye, though he wants to; just gives him a kiss on the cheek and lets himself linger there a minute, breathing in Trent’s scent. Trent is watching him when he straightens. “It does make it harder to leave,” Ted tells him. “This. You. Still the right thing for me, just— I don’t want you thinking this didn’t mean anything to me. Meant a lot.”

Trent nods and kisses his cheek in return. “I know. Let me know when you’ve landed.”

Ted nods, and asks Lyra if he can have a hug goodbye— she graciously consents— and that’s that.

20.
Trent gets a text from Ted, a picture of Rebecca Welton on the front page of the Independent. Still strange to see this without your byline.

Trent texts back an eye-roll emoji and Have a safe flight, Ted.

21.  Kansas

It’s good to be back home. Ted misses Richmond— you can’t live in a place three years without putting down some roots— but it’s good to be able to navigate crossing the street without thinking about it, to know which of the fifteen brands of ketchup he wants— to have the proper amount of barbecue sauce available.

He spends a week in Michelle’s guest room, that used to be his guest room too, before finding a rental apartment in the college part of town. It’s absolutely not the right place for him, full of twenty-somethings devoted to fun, but it’s a summer sublet and the other half of the house is rented by a pair of medical students who are fairly quiet. He and Henry have long (by 9-year-old standards) discussions on what he should do next, and where he should look for a more permanent place. He gives Trent a FaceTime tour of the apartment, knowing he’ll get a kick out of it, and is roundly mocked for his student housing.

“I just wanted to get out of Michelle’s house,” he confesses. “Jake’s there way too much— he didn’t sleep over while I was there but I could tell he woulda at least a couple times— only polite to get out of their hair. And I’m not his biggest fan anyway.”

Trent hums. “Have you told Michelle yet?”

Ted sighs. “No. I know I gotta.”

The corners of Trent’s eyes turn sympathetic. “What about Henry?”

“What about Henry?”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“Oh.” Ted thinks a minute. “I’ll tell Henry when it’s relevant. If you come to visit, or if I decide to start dating again.”

“Would Michelle mention it to him?”

“Darn it, Trent, that’s a good thought and one I wish I did not have to have. Huh. I guess I’ll see how it goes with Michelle. She’s— okay, you know, but her family’s a little more conservative, might be a big leap for her.”

He asks Michelle if they can do a Henry exchange at a playground between them. “What, you don’t want me to see your new place?” she asks, laughing.

“I got something to tell you that I’d rather keep on neutral ground. Just between us, for now.”

She teases him for that too, but agrees. He’s getting Henry in plenty of time for supper, and the kid is happy enough to run off to a pair of girls he knows when Ted asks him to give them a minute at the playground. “What’s up, Ted?” Michelle asks, smiling. She’s being real nice to him, rewarding him for coming back to Henry, Ted supposes. Positive reinforcement.

“I—“ he stops as soon as he starts. “Sorry. It’s — I’d appreciate it if this could stay between us for now. Not tell D— Jake until I’m a little more settled.”

“All right,” Michelle says, puzzled.

He takes a deep breath, and pulls up a mental image of Trent waiting for an answer in the press room. “I started seein’ someone just before I left England. We both knew going in it was just for a little bit, I’m not in any real relationship or anything, it’s just— it was a man I was seeing, Michelle. I think— I’m pretty sure— I’m gay.”

She’s staring at him with her mouth literally an O, something he has not seen often in his forty-six years. “You’re gay?” she repeats finally.

“I’m gay,” he says, hands in his pockets, squinting down at the impersonal ground. It feels weird to say, but it’s true enough, he’s pretty sure.

“Is that— an excuse?”

That gets him to look at her right quick. “For our divorce? No. We had other things wrong between us, Michelle.” Her and Dr. Jake teaming up on him, for one thing. He’s forgiven her for that, but it’s gonna be a while before he trusts her the same again. “I’m sure it didn’t help, though.”

She’s quiet some more. They both watch Henry monkey his way up the tallest climbing structure, arms raised in triumph when he beats his friend. “I don’t plan to tell Henry until it’s relevant— if I start dating, or Trent comes to visit. Way things are these days, he’ll be okay, I think. No big deal.”

“Okay,” she says, so softly he almost doesn’t catch it. Then she jerks a little straighter. “Trent? Trent Crimm? Isn’t that who wrote the article about your panic attacks?”

“That’s the one, Obi-Wan.” Not his best work, he realizes, but she doesn’t notice.

“I’m so confused,” she sighs, and Ted laughs.

“Aren’t we all.”

Michelle does promise not to tell Jake before Ted and Henry leave, but Ted doesn’t have a real settled feel about the conversation, so he decides to mention it to Henry.

“Hey, bud,” he says on the drive to the apartment. “I don’t think your mom will mention it, but she and I were talking about me dating someday in the future, you know, like she and Jake are friends.”

“Yeah?” says Henry.

“Thing is, I’d probably date a guy. Just somethin’ new to explore.”

“Okay,” says Henry.

“But I’m not planning on dating anyone at all for a while,” Ted hastens to explain. “And you get veto rights, obviously. I bring anyone around you don’t like, just say the word.” Henry’s met Trent a few times, at the bookstore and that weekend at the clubhouse. Henry’s met Lyra, even. He didn’t seem to mind them, but he was mostly focused on Beard and Ted. And Jamie Tartt, of course.

“Okay, Dad,” says Henry, and Ted smiles at his tone. Grown-up talk, geez Louise. “What’s for supper?”

22.
Ted has to light a candle after he gets bored enough, three weeks back, to contact Wichita State and see if they have any coaching openings. He hasn’t prayed since his daddy died, but sports folks are a superstitious bunch and this is too perfect not to send some gratitude and hope out in the universe, just in case anyone’s watching. Ted’s replacement on the football team is doing well and seems set to stay there as long as he’s allowed. That’s fine, only fair. But the women’s head soccer coach just had an unexpected health issue and retired with almost no notice, and the assistant coach is “excellent, really smart girl, but just a little green, Ted, you know.” Ted’s not too keen on taking away a smart young lady’s opportunity, but he goes round to meet her and have what might almost pass for an interview, and he does see their point. Head coach is a big job, and Lauren’s maybe twenty-five.

Everyone’s very confused at him switching sports, and some of the higher-ups make noises about the brevity of his tenure there the first time, but he talks up Henry, how settled he is in his school, how Ted has absolutely no intention of leaving his son no matter what, and a week later he’s sending out a flurry of texts that he’s got a job. Rebecca first, and Keeley, and the Diamond Dogs thread, including Roy— Trent never got added to that, shoot— and Michelle he’ll tell in person tomorrow. He calls Trent, who somehow knows all the questions the admins asked, and reassures him that he does know how to coach football— “No I will not call it soccer, don’t be absurd—“ even without Beard. That’s gonna be weird— Ted tells Trent about Beard’s history, and Trent tells Ted about the new jacket he’s seen Beard wearing, which can only be a Jane special. Ted’s glad to be stepping down a notch, from professional to college sports again. He got a real good feeling about Lauren, but Ted and Beard coached together for so long it’s gonna be hard to coach with anyone else. Good to not have quite as much pressure on the players, while he and Lauren figure themselves out.

“Wichita State isn’t a staging ground for women’s major league football?” Trent asks sleepily but snidely.

“Now don’t be catty, babe, that don’t suit you.”

“WHAT did you just call me.”

“Sorry! Sorry, just slipped out, you know how I am with pet names.”

There’s the sound of Trent rolling over in bed— he was only lying down, he swore, not really trying to sleep yet, but Ted should definitely let him go soon. “Oh, well,” he sighs. “I don’t really mind it. Just don’t go all possessive. That would be the ultimate irony, after moving a continent away.”

Ted’s phone starts buzzing. “Hey, Rebecca’s calling, I better let you sleep, Trent. Say hi to Lyra for me, and I miss you, okay?”

“All right, Ted,” Trent murmurs. He’s definitely half asleep. “Miss you too.”

“Now that I got a job, I’m gonna buy a house,” Ted tells Rebecca, and he texts Trent the same thing later, when he knows it won’t disturb Trent’s sleep.

23.
Trent finds he’s not at all surprised that Leslie Higgins is the one who reaches out to keep him in the Richmond family, and so he takes Lyra to the Higgins-Richmond barbecue just before the new season starts. The party is already crowding the little yard and spilling into the street in front of the Higgins’ home when they arrive, and are greeted by Julie Higgins, who bends down for a kind and quiet welcome to Lyra, who’s a little overwhelmed by so many people. Lyra clings to Trent’s leg for about ten minutes, Julie chatting and leading them gently toward the food, and then consents to be introduced to the daughter of Rebecca’s new man, who’s apparently already a fixture. Anneke is only a little older than Lyra, and speaks a little English, and the language of children is fairly universal; soon the blond girl is leading Lyra to the pile of chalk that seems to be the hub for the various children there.

Matthijs lounges next to Rebecca like an astonishingly good-looking blond bear, and laughs when Trent says, “I suppose I’ll be learning Dutch next to keep up with her. Trent Crimm, nice to meet you.”

“She travels quite a bit with me,” says Matthijs, “so she speaks English better than she might let on. Also French. Has to be able to make herself understood anywhere.”

There is the usual parental small talk, how-old-are-they-where-are-they-in-school-small-girl-interests— Trent is quietly proud of Lyra’s continued unique passion for bears— before Keeley compliments the press coverage of The Richmond Way, and Rebecca makes a noise that could almost come from Roy Kent’s throat and says, “I still think The Lasso Way was a better title.”

“It was Ted’s choice,” says Trent mildly. He looks around at everyone gathered there, a family gathering unlike the bar nights most football teams might have.  “And I must say, the Lasso way seems to be becoming the Richmond way quite seamlessly.”

Rebecca’s lips are pressed tightly together. Trent knows she misses Ted; he sympathizes, of course, but he was not rebuilt by Ted’s kindness the way Rebecca was, and so he has the perspective to reassure her, “He’ll come back. Next year. He just wants Roy to have a chance to settle in on his own.”

“Do you have contact with Ted, then?” Keeley asks, and Trent has to consider what he’s willing to share. He has no desire to be Ted’s dirty secret, but he’s quite sure Ted’s not ready yet for the kindly uproar coming out will bring. Only Michelle knows, so far.

“Yes, frequently,” he answers. “A year with the team, we got to be quite good friends.”

24.
Lyra’s crabby, and wobbling with fatigue, when Ted picks her and Trent up at the airport, so Ted doesn’t even offer her a hug. He does get one from Trent, also tired but handling it a little better; Trent mumbles into his shoulder about the ridiculous place Ted lives, far too difficult to get to, and hands his suitcase off to Ted so he can pick up Lyra.

“You don’t want us bothering you when you’re moving,” Trent had protested when Ted extended the offer, but he had sounded half-hearted, and Ted had promised it was no trouble, he wanted to show it off, with everything he’d jettisoned from his life the last few years of moving countries the boxes would be unpacked in no time. “And I’ll put y’all to work for anything left.” So Trent sighed and agreed they would come before Lyra’s school year started.

It’s the first week of school for Henry, and he’s spending it at Michelle’s, but he comes over for a couple hours after the first day to tell Ted all about it, and walk Lyra carefully through his room, what she can touch and what she can’t. There are three bedrooms in the new house: one for Henry, one for Ted, and one for guests; and it’s a five-minute drive from Michelle, in the same school district, a distance Henry will be able to bike on his own in just a year or two. Ted’s tickled pink about the place, even if it hasn’t been redecorated in thirty years and he’s gonna have to figure out how to strip wallpaper. Henry’s valuables mostly travel back and forth with him, and they stick a few more things on the highest closet shelves, but generally Henry seems content to share his things with Lyra; and Lyra is wonder-struck at having a Big Kid pay attention to her.  Ted is pleased, and proud, and he sees through the relaxing line of Trent’s shoulders that he too is relieved the kids can get along so far.

Ted wakes at some godawful hour the next morning to a deep, deep sigh from Trent. He rolls over and sees Trent up on one elbow watching him, his hair flat on one side and crazy poofy on the other. “Mornin’, darlin’. Jet lag gotcha?”

“Mmm.” Trent reaches over and strokes Ted’s hair, smoothing the spikes it produces, moving down to comb his mustache into order. Ted kisses his fingers. “I’m in love with you, did you know that?”

Ted’s frozen, but it’s a good frozen, a white-hot light kind of frozen. “You’re in love with me?”

“Mmm.” Trent doesn’t seem bothered that Ted hasn’t said it back yet.

“But I’m a mess,” is all Ted can come up with.

Trent snorts. “You hold a job, at which you excel, co-parent your lovely son effectively, and have many healthy relationships. You’re no more of a mess than anyone else.”

“Huh.” Well, Sassy did say she was a mess too, and Beard isn’t any kind of psychologist at all. “Thank you. That means a lot to hear, from you especially.”

“Because you think I’ve got my shit together?” Trent grimaces. “Listen, this doesn’t change anything, you understand. We’re together when we’re in the same country and friends when we’re not.”

“I can handle that,” Ted says. “Honestly that’s more clear than I ever thought you’d lay it out.” He takes Trent’s hand and snuggle it up under his chin. “Thank you for not saying ‘just’ friends. Even in different countries, you’re the first one I think of in the morning and the last person I wanna talk to at night.”

“I know.” Trent folds down into bed again, snuggling into Ted. “I haven’t had a friend like that— ever, really. I didn’t know it was part of being in love.”

Oh right. Ted’s forgotten something; he really needs some coffee. “I love you too. I mean, I love a lot of people, but you’re different— I mean, I’m in love with you too.”

Trent snorts. “And I’m not moving to America for a two-week boyfriend.”

“That’s it, babe, way to win my heart.” They lie there snuggling, faces turned to avoid each other’s morning breath, until Ted’s eyes droop again. “I still don’t get it,” Ted murmurs, “but I ain’t gonna complain.”

Trent sits up properly, and Ted wiggles over so his arm’s across Trent’s lap, able to close his eyes and breathe in Trent’s scent. Trent’s hand falls between his shoulder blades, rubbing gently. “That last game at Richmond,” Trent says. “Halftime. It was— all of what you’re good at, all of who you are, distilled into ten minutes. I knew I liked you before that, I knew you were fuckable, but that was when I knew it was more— you were breaking my heart and remaking it all at once. But I didn’t think I’d ever want to tell you. Until you were waiting for me.”

“Didn’t know for sure I’d see you again,” Ted tells Trent’s hip. “Couldn’t miss my chance.”

Trent laughs a little. “‘Sensible’ isn’t really in your game plan, is it?”

“No sir.”

When Lyra comes in Ted hauls himself up, and scrambles some eggs with her while Trent showers, and takes his own turn in the shower, and they have a nice morning. Ted’s actually grateful for the early start, because the soccer season is really picking up and he has practice every afternoon and a game Saturday. If they’re going to spend any time together, just the three of them, mornings are it.

Ted’s gotten them bus passes for the week; they’re close enough to campus that the bus system is pretty good and Trent won’t be stuck at his house or driving on the wrong side of the road. They have lazy mornings, and Ted pulls out Henry’s old bike with training wheels for Lyra— Trent gives him a Look at that, but Ted recognizes the besotted, proud parent look on his face when she wobbles down the road on her own by the end of the week. In the afternoons Trent and Lyra might find a playground while Ted’s at practice, or wander around downtown Wichita, and meet Ted afterward for a meal and an early night. Trent is careful not to intrude on Ted’s team, but he shows up in time Friday to meet Lauren. She’s mentioned her girlfriend to Ted before, so he introduces Trent as his gentleman friend, and is deeply pleased by the confounded look Trent gives him. (“It’s not the nineteenth century, Ted.”) Lauren, bless her, takes it in stride, asks Lyra if she likes football (smart cookie, Lauren is), and finds it entirely reasonable when Lyra responds that she likes foxes better.

Trent, Lyra, and Henry come to the Shockers’ first game of the season that Saturday. It ends in a tie, which isn’t ideal but Lauren and Ted agree it was a good start to the season, and now they have a proper sense of how the team works together under pressure. Henry and Trent both offer feedback afterward— Ted bites his lips to keep from laughing as Trent’s phrasing comes out of Henry’s mouth— and Lauren’s seal of approval is official for Trent, once she hears what he has to say.

Then there’s a ferociously awkward Labor Day barbecue at Michelle’s on Monday; she’s really trying and Ted didn’t want to say no, since Trent was game and Lyra will enjoy the swing set, but Jake is there, and even Ted’s mom has driven in forty-five minutes, and Ted hasn’t told her about Trent yet, and he doesn’t know what Jake knows at this point, and they really need some strangers to smooth over the social gaps but there aren’t any, just the seven of them, too many relationships in too many directions for a comfortable time. Ted smiles, and smiles, and is pretty sure his face has frozen; and Trent’s eyebrows go higher and higher, and they end up using Lyra’s persistent jet lag as an excuse to leave early.

Tuesday Trent and Lyra leave. There are big hugs at the airport, and a fierce kiss from Trent, and then Ted takes a deep breath, settles his thoughts, and drives to practice.

25.
Ted tells his momma over Christmas. She starts up in her roundabout aggravating way about him dating, moving on, now that he’s settled, and he pushes down the sharp flash of irritation and looks at her clearly, seeing the anxiety she doesn’t know how to express any better. “I put you through a lot, don’t I, Momma,” he says when she pauses. “One more thing, then I think I’m done.”

“What is it, Teddy?” She’s a little red-capped bird, head to one side, eyes bright with hope or apprehension.

“You met Trent this fall, and his daughter? I’ve been seeing him, off-and-on, when we’re in the same country. I’m gay, Momma.”  She blinks at him. “I know it’s a little late in the game for this kind of upset, but— I loved Michelle a lot, but it was never the same with her, not like it is with Trent. I just wanted you to know.”

She doesn’t have anything to say for a couple minutes. He’s not surprised by that: she’s not of a generation where people talked about these things, not like they do now. But she raised him to be respectful of others, and she does that herself, and he’s grateful. She clears her throat eventually. “Well,” she says. “All right then. You said that’s the last thing?”

He laughs a little. “I think so. I ain’t planning on leaving this job, or moving, or doing anything else too startling. I like my life right here.”

She nods, and asks about when he’s gonna travel more, and how Beard’s doing, and the night goes on.

26.
Trent misses Ted.

He should have made a clean break of it, cut off contact after Ted left— or better yet, never slept with him in the first place— but despite the persistent ache in his chest he can’t bring himself to regret that week. He can’t bring himself to regret the money spent on flights (he sneaks over for a few days in the New Year, abandoning Lyra with his parents), not when Ted’s eyes light up when Trent walks through the arrivals gate, and Lyra has learned to demand helicopters Trent feels himself ill-suited to provide. They’re just such good friends. Trent had work friends, before Lyra, and he has casual parent friends now, from Lyra’s nursery and school, but until he got to know Ted most of his adult contact outside of work was with his parents.  Unless one is quite extroverted, Trent has found, parents make friends with the parents of their children's friends.  Lyra's friend Elaine has two mums and a thoughtful air that makes Trent grateful the girls have bonded, but single people and a married couple don't mesh: there's a constant feeling that Trent will be set up with someone lurking at the edges of all their conversations.  Most parents look at Trent askance when he admits he named Lyra after a character from a book; no one who understands her name at all is football-mad.  No one but Ted.

So Trent keeps calling Ted; they have a regular time now, mid-afternoon for Ted and after Lyra’s tucked in for Trent. Sometimes it’s twice a day, if Lyra has a particular project she wants to show off, and sometimes it’s every other day, if Ted has a game. Trent texts him with Lyra’s funny comments (“Daddy, you’re funky.”), and Ted texts back Henry’s philosophical queries (“Dad!  Did you know they do poop transplants on some people?”).  Lyra tells Ted all her accomplishments each week, and Trent compliments Henry gravely on his soccer successes, because “Dad’s Dad, he’s not going to tell me what he really thinks, and you know more about soccer than he does anyway.” Ted and Trent both crack up at that.

Trent also misses his job. The Richmond Way gave him a purpose he loved, and the press surrounding its release and then its success kept him busy for a few months, and able to not worry about working for at least a while, but he needs something to do.  He gets a couple of other offers for book proposals, other teams that think he might give them the polish he gave Richmond, as though it was Trent’s doing that there was a story there.  He declines without regret.  He realizes in doing so that he is changing the trajectory of his life’s work, and it’s past time, really.  Trent has been gay in the world of sport for a long time, walking an extremely fine tightrope between prudent discretion and outright closeted.  He understands Colin saying, I don’t want to be a spokesperson, but no one is going to make a spokesperson of a middle-aged writer.  Trent can afford to be who he is.  He spends six months working on a book about queer people in sport, which turns harder into gender theory than his initial proposal had accounted for; he and his agent spend another few months arguing about it before Trent finally throws up his hands, takes his book, and goes looking for a different contract. He thinks about writing a different book; he thinks about writing something for Lyra, but he can’t quite place it in his mind. He writes some opinion pieces and turns some of the book into a series of newspaper articles, and he learns to cook anything Lyra expresses interest in, and he looks for the next thing.

27.

Ted feels satisfied with his first season back with the Shockers.  He finally understands enough soccer to at least keep up with most of Lauren's strategizing, and have a good sense of the players' strengths and weaknesses; and while they didn't win any championships they finished well above the middle of the pack.  And he stayed busy, which he's pretty sure was the most important thing for him to do, these first few months Stateside.  

With the team mostly not in session the second semester Ted has less to do.  A few days with Trent are great, spent in bed and reading the draft of Trent's new book, thinking about things he's never thought of before but which are obvious, the way Trent puts them.  Ted even has a few things to tell Trent, the way he's seen gender play out in various locker rooms, and Trent listens thoughtfully and makes notes.

Ted’s a little lonely when Trent’s not there, and around February he gives in and joins E-harmony, and bantr, which has expanded to the States. He talks to a few guys, and goes on a few dates— enough to erase any lingering doubt that it was just Trent doing it for him— but it’s not the same. Even the single dads— even the recently-out middle-aged ones like him— they have a good time, but it’s not the way it was with Trent, going looking for the spark rather than the surprise of finding it right in your office.

Ted decides online dating isn’t for him.

He knows Trent goes out sometimes, once a month or so, but he asked Trent not to tell him about it, so he doesn’t know any more than that. Trent’s been doing this a lot longer than he has, and Ted admits it’s only fair they’re each free to look around, but he knows he’d be jealous if he knew anything at all about Trent’s dates. This way he can pretend they’re only casual flings, pretend Trent’s heart is all his (and Lyra’s, of course).

He’s not jealous when Michelle dates anymore. She and Jake split up in October, Jake spooked by how well she and Ted co-parented and got along when they weren’t trying to stay married; Michelle finally put off by Jake’s self-absorption.  She’s dated here and there since, and Ted’s met a couple guys, and doesn’t mind being her litmus test. The most recent boyfriend, Derek, he’s got a good feeling about.  

28.
Beard’s wedding at the spring equinox falls the same day as one of their two spring semester games, so Ted has to miss it, but as soon as their mini-season has finished up he’s off to Europe. Trent blatantly abandons Lyra with her grandparents and meets him in Paris, which is really nice, especially because Trent’s been there before and knows where to stay and eat and walk to get the best experience but not the hoards of tourists.  “It’s not a surprise and I’m not going to propose to you,” Trent informs him ahead of time.  “But after all that hubbub about Michelle and whoever-it-was going to Paris, I’m not missing our opportunity.”

“You’re staying WHERE?” Rebecca had said when Ted told her his plans to come visit. “Why in all the world would you put him to that trouble? Trent’s nice enough but he can’t have more than a two-bedroom flat, surely?”

”Ah,” said Ted. “Well. I guess the times got kind of ahead of me. I oughta told you a long time ago— Trent and I have been seeing each other, kind of, for a while now. Since right before I left, actually.”

There is a profound silence.

There is a request to switch to video call.

Rebecca is in her office, and she looks as fierce as Ted has ever seen her. Ted quails a little, and is grateful there’s an ocean between them. “Are you happy?” she demands.

“Happy? At surprising you? I’m, I’m actually disappointed in myself for not telling you for so long. I’m sorry, Rebecca.”

She shakes her head. “No, Ted, are you happy with Trent?”

“Oh!” He’s much more relaxed about that question. “Yes. Absolutely. The transatlantic thing isn’t ideal, but, you know, it seems to be working so far. How’s Trent put it? We’re together when we’re in the same country and friends when we’re not.”

“And who else do you need to tell about this?”

“Ah— everyone over there, I guess?” He’s pretty sure Beard already knows, since Beard knows everything, but he’s also pretty sure that’s it, since Higgins hasn’t said anything, and the timbre of Roy’s grunts hasn’t changed at all.

“Do that. Let me know your plans when they’re finalized— I want you for at least two lunches and a dinner at Sam’s.”

“I was thinking I’d come to the season-end party— won’t that be at Sam’s again?”

She gives him a Look. “Ted. Go tell the others.”

“Yes, boss.”

It’s near the end of the work day at Nelson Road; no excuse to put it off. Ted calls Beard: “Hey, Coach.”

“Ted!” Beard is baseline manic these days, marriage and impending fatherhood agreeing with him. “When are you coming?”

Ted laughs. “Just a couple weeks now, Coach! I’m calling on Diamond Dogs business, though, related to my trip. You think everyone’s available?”

“Well, Trent’s not here, of course—“

“That’s okay,” Ted interrupts; “he knows about it already.”

“Uh-huh,” says Beard in the way he has that lets you know your secrets are seen, and reaches over for the desk phone. He doesn’t do more than howl in the receiver before Higgins must hang up on him to come running. Beard turns the phone around to show Nate coming over to hop up on the shelf, and Roy at Ted's old desk gives the phone a deeply unimpressed look but grunts, “Hello, Ted.”

“Hey, Roy! How’s it going?”

“Fine.”

“You looking forward to having a little time off? I tell you, I miss y’all but I do not miss the pressure of professional sports.”

Higgins comes panting up, and stands over between Roy and Nate so Beard can prop the phone and Ted can see the three of them, anyway. He knows exactly how Beard will look already.

“So listen, y’all, I appreciate y’all being there for me with my divorce, and everything after that, and not cutting me off when I came back home. And I’ve got some news that makes me feel really bad I haven’t shared it yet, I shoulda been more open—“

“Ted,” Beard interrupts. “Tell them.”

“Oh, do you know already?” Nate asks. Ted’s glad to hear his open innocent tone, no annoyance in his voice.

“Think so.”

“Well, so, okay, it’s just, when I come visit y’all I’m gonna be staying with Trent, because he and I’ve been seeing each other, at least when we’re in the same country, for most of the last year.”
Higgins and Nate looks surprised, and one of Roy’s eyebrows twitches.

“Are you bi, then?” Nate asks.

“Ah, no, I’m pretty sure I’m closer to the homosexual end of the spectrum, but…. I mean, it’s Trent, you know, who could resist that hair.”

“Then why didn’t you come out when Colin did?” Nate again.

“I hadn’t figured it all out then. Let me tell you, an orgasm feels good no matter who it’s with, and that was pretty confusing for a good long while.”

Nate’s head tips as he considers that. “I suppose that makes sense. Well, good then, Trent’s lovely.”

“Yes,” says Higgins, smiling encouragingly at the phone. “Thank you for telling us, Ted.”

“Why the fuck’s he still here?” Roy demands. “Couldn’t he write in Kansas just as well?” The amount of disdain he puts into 'Kansas' makes Ted laugh.

“He doesn’t want to uproot his daughter, and heck, I can understand that. But they’re gonna spend some of the summer here, I’m hoping she’ll take to the place.”

“Don’t push it,” Beard says. “He’s gotta make up his own mind.”

“I know, I know, if I learned anything from the wreck of my marriage it is not to pressure a significant other into a major move.”

“Good.”

“That’s all I had to say. Rebecca knows too, feel free to arrange my schedule amongst yourselves. She had some pretty strong feelings on lunches and stuff.”

“Anyone else have any other business?” Higgins asks. Heads shake.

“Diamond Dogs dismount!” says Beard.

It feels good to howl with his friends.

A text from Trent: I’ve just been informed I’m having lunch and girl talk with Rebecca Welton tomorrow. It’s rather like being summoned by the queen.

And Beard calls, clearly walking home from work. “Nice work, Ted.”

“Thanks, Coach. Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

“No worries. These things take time.”

“How long have you known?”

“Aaaaahhh…. since the post-season celebration before you left.”

The night after Ted had first stayed over. “Ah, hell, Willis. You shoulda said something.”

“Nah. I had my own stuff. Didn’t even think about it.”

“Fair enough. You happy there?”

Ted can hear the smile in Beard’s voice. “I really am, Ted. You happy there?”

“Sure am, Uncle Sam.”

“Good. Hey, see you soon.”

“Can’t wait.”

It’s a good trip, a really good trip, from Paris with Trent to Ola’s, where the food has gotten even better, to a resurgence of Biscuits with the Boss, as an apology for not keeping Rebecca updated. He’s mobbed by players, and hears about all their milestones over the last year, football and otherwise. Colin gives a Ted a solid nod before going into his stats for the season, of which he’s rightfully proud; but he keeps up with Trent, of course. Ted’s glad to see Keeley sitting on Roy’s lap at the end-of-season party, Roy nuzzling into her hair as though he can’t believe he’s allowed to again. They’ll be all right; Roy’s too smart to make the same mistake twice.

But it’s better to get back, even if his bed feels a little lonely. He loves Richmond, but Kansas is his real life, here with Henry and a job he can see lasting until he’s old, where the air smells the same as where he grew up. Richmond was a fever dream, and only Trent can bridge the gap between the two.

29.
A new edition of The Richmond Way comes out, and Trent writes a new afterword.

This book was originally called the Lasso Way, after the coach who turned Richmond around. But Ted objected, saying it was never about him, and I respect him far too much not to honor his request. 

In the year that has passed since Ted’s departure from Richmond, however, I would just point out: many of the players keep in frequent contact with Ted, from Sam Obisanya to Jan Maas, and the coaching staff communicate with him daily. It’s not about the sport, his or theirs. It’s not about staff management issues. It’s about life, the daily connections that tie us all together: parenting queries, restaurant reviews, endless word plays. I find it significant that none of the players I’ve spoken to want to leave Richmond; several have indicated they would actively resist a transfer, salary notwithstanding. Roy Kent, contrary to all expectations, is becoming a manager in the mold of Ted Lasso, and Rebecca Welton cares about each of her players as she never did before Ted taught her to. BELIEVE remains in pride of place above the managers’ office. It has become the Richmond way, surviving now past one remarkable manager: but it was the Lasso way first.

Trent carries a copy of the new edition in his suitcase when he and Lyra go to visit Ted, and fiddles with glasses while Ted reads the afterword. Ted puts him out of his misery quickly: reads quietly and leans over to kiss Trent. “A remarkable manager, huh?”

“Surely you know that by now.” Trent leans forward to kiss Ted again: they’re in bed, mugs of coffee half-drunk on the nightstands.

Ted hums comfortably into the kiss and they slide down the headboard, Ted pressing Trent down— lovingly, floats through Trent’s mind— before he pulls back a little to regard Trent. “I’m glad you’re there. Lettin’ me know it’s not all fallin’ apart— Roy and Beard wouldn’t be so honest.”

Trent runs his hand through Ted’s hair and scratches his scalp comfortingly. “You built a strong foundation. They’ll all be fine.”

Ted nuzzles at the side of his face.  It's their first morning together again, and they have limited time before Lyra gets up (Henry sleeps later, untroubled by jet lag), and Trent ought to lean into these moments, but with his book still in the bed with them he has other things on his mind.  “Ted, what am I doing?” Trent whispers.

Ted pauses, and looks down at him, that tiny crease between his eyebrows. Trent hates putting that crease there, though he knows by now that’s it’s not always worried: sometimes it’s thoughtful, sometime it’s a planning-a-delightful-surprise crease, sometimes it’s an interesting-sex-idea crease. Trent extracts a hand and reaches up to rub the crease away.

Ted smiles and nuzzles his hand. “Well, right now you’re makin’ me real happy. And you’re also, more generally, raising the next great wildlife biologist. But that’s not what you mean, I don’t think.”

Trent shakes his head. How odd, Ted-the-coach here in bed.

Ted leans on one elbow so he can stroke Trent’s hair. “What do you want to be doing, darlin’?”

“I don’t even know,” Trent whispers, and closes his eyes, inner turmoil warring with the perfect pressure of Ted’s hand in his hair.

“You want to write something?”

Trent nods. “But I don’t know what.”

“All right. Is there a rush to figure it out?”

Trent opens his eyes again.  Perhaps this isn't so difficult.  Perhaps he just needed Ted to tell him that.  “And I want to sell Queer the Pitch. I feel like I can’t move on until that’s out there.”

“And then you want to write something for Lyra.”

“How do you know these things?”

“Why do you think I coach Henry every chance I get? We give what we can, babe. That’s what I’ve got that’s good.”

Trent presses his face into Ted’s shoulder, messily, wanting to crawl into his skin. “I know how to sell a book.”

“Sure you do.”

“And there’s a bit more press coming up, with the new edition. I can keep busy with that.”

“Hey, you get too bored, a transatlantic flight will tire you right out.”

“Love you,” Trent murmurs, ignoring that. “Love you.”

“Mmm.” Ted finds his mouth again.

A while later Ted runs a hand through Trent’s hair and murmurs, “Remember romcommunism?”

“How could I forget?”

“Everything will work out in the end, and you are doing what you’re meant to be doing.”

“Here’s your secret,” Trent murmurs back. “Everyone just gives in to you out of exhaustion. It’s too difficult to keep resisting your charming bullshit.”

Ted chuckles. “I’ll take it.” There’s a pause, Trent only kept from sleep by the knowledge that Lyra will be coming in momentarily; they’re lucky to have had so long. “Hey, you know what a good romantic comedy needs?”

“Oh God.”

“A montage of you learning to ride a bike.”

Trent sits up and reaches for his shirt. “I’m going to make breakfast.”

Ted’s laughter follows him to the en suite. “Babe, it’ll be great!”

At the next Higgins/Richmond barbecue Keeley asks Trent, “How’s Ted? Did you have a nice time in Kansas?” And because Keeley is somehow a kind and generous person as well as a near-genius in her field, Trent takes out his phone and offers up his greatest embarrassment: a photo of himself, hair smashed out from the edges of a blue bicycle helmet, scowling at the photographer (Henry) as Ted vaults forward trying to keep his bicycle from tipping. Keeley laughs wholeheartedly and shows the phone to Roy, who grunts his amused grunt; and then to Rebecca, who raises her eyebrows at Trent and merely remarks, “The power of Ted.”

30. 

Ted can pinpoint to the moment when he thinks, this could work.  Trent and Lyra have been in Kansas for a week, and Henry’s due to go back to Michelle; she’s picking him up in time for supper and they’re all outside kicking a soccer ball around as they wait. Ted’s never kicked a ball around with Trent before.  It turns out they’re fairly evenly matched, and Henry runs rings around both of them, so they end up playing kids versus adults, really Henry versus the dads when Lyra wanders off to watch an ant hill.  It’s a hot sunny late afternoon, the grass dry but not totally brown yet, and Trent looks absurdly young in his jeans and t-shirt, laughing breathlessly after Henry’s nutmegged him to score a goal.  Ted high-fives Henry, and despite their sweat puts an arm around Trent’s shoulders in commiseration; he’s kissing Trent’s head when Michelle pulls up.  

31.
Lyra at six makes it through most of the first half of Henry’s football game before Trent has to break out the coloring supplies; Henry as a nearby Big Kid has become one of her idols.  In the second half she climbs down from the bleachers and begins to run laps behind them with the other bored smaller children forced to attend. There are a few extraneous parents keeping an eye on things, so Trent doesn’t feel he needs to do more than cast the occasional glance back at Lyra.

Michelle catches his eye as he turns back to the pitch; she smiles at him. “She’s doing really well.”

He smiles back. Michelle has been kind in their limited interactions, and doesn’t show any signs of resenting the vehicle of her ex-husband’s gay awakening. Probably, he reflects, it’s reassuring to have another reason their marriage needed to end, one that has nothing to do with her. “I’ve dragged her to enough football games at home that she’s used to it. This is much more fun than the stands at home.”

Michelle laughs. “Room to run free here. Make sure she doesn’t go under the bleachers and start poking people.” Trent looks back toward the children, alarmed, but everyone seems to be out in the open. “Is her mom into football too?”

Ah, Ted hasn’t told her. “No, she hasn’t got a mother. I hit forty without any particular prospects for a partner, realized I wanted a child badly enough to do it on my own, and started looking into surrogacy. It’s always been just the two of us at home.”

Michelle’s smile drops. “Oh, I’m sorry! I just assumed— but you know what they say about assumptions.”

Trent laughs wholeheartedly. “I do, since Ted educated the press room on that particular word play once. It’s doesn’t translate very well— an ass is only a donkey in the UK.”

Michelle smiles again, relieved, and they both look at Ted, who is all focus on the game. “Brave of you to have a kid on your own. I don’t know if I’d have survived without Ted.  Henry had a milk allergy, and he was a colicky nightmare for a few months until we figured it out.”

“I did ensure my parents, who live not far from me, were willing to be involved. I’ve an older sister with children, so I had some faint sense of what I was getting myself into.”

She laughs. “There’s not really any preparing for the reality of a baby, is there?”

“No.” They watch the game a little; the sun is starting to stretch down into their eyes. “Ted’s very good with her, of course. I will admit it’s lovely to have another parent in the house occasionally.”

Michelle glances at him and then away. “You like him a lot, huh?”

Trent’s eyes are narrowed against the sun, but also to catch her faintest expressions. “I like him rather more than a lot. But we first really started a friendship over being parents. I always knew he was going to come home again.”

“Why Ted?”

She’s looking at her hands. Trent wonders why she’s asking: she fell in love with him once upon a time herself; has he changed so much? Does Trent seem so odd a match for him?  “At first I was only looking at Ted professionally,” he begins. “There’s no one else in professional football, in the UK anyway, coaching in anything like his style. And when I did that profile on him he was so kind— it was quite confusing, actually— And then that season it gradually became clearer that he is actually very very good at what he does.  A potent combination, kindness and competence.  And he likes my daughter, and we have the same taste in books.  And… spending more time with him the last year he was there— I just like him. Is it so strange?”

Michelle is looking out at Ted again, who’s clapping at something Trent’s missed entirely. Ted is focused, and glowing in the sunlight, and the line of his back is truly lovely. “No,” Michelle says finally. “I guess not.”

Trent watches her a minute more, unable to say what she is thinking. She is more private than Ted is, at least with Trent, and he decides finally he cannot worry about her overmuch. Ted has made his decision and picked his route in his relationships, and Trent is selfish enough to be glad of it, whatever Michelle might feel.

32.

It’s an idyllically suburban month, without any trips farther than a state park an hour away.  There's Henry's summer football league, there are zoo and waterpark expeditions, there is a heat wave Trent cannot quite comprehend, even in the midst of it.  Ted's assistant coach Lauren and her girlfriend Maria come over for a Women's World Cup game, and Trent sees Ted's community building at work again.  They spend days at local pools; Ted’s shoulders burn and Trent scolds him to put on more sunscreen.  “You mustn’t get skin cancer, Ted,” Trent tells him as he smooths aloe on that evening, and is shocked to find how much he cares.  Ted is a grown man, well into his fifth decade; he is perfectly capable of taking care of his own skin.  

The kids get along beautifully.  Lyra hero-worships Henry, and Henry is enough older and more mature to take it gracefully.  He teaches her paper-towel-roll sword fights, and lets her win sometimes; he teaches her various video games; and he lets her into his room if she wants a new book.  Lyra is reading well by herself now, and says “ooo” when Henry shows her his Garfield collection.

“Dare I ask,” Trent says flatly.

Ted laughs. “Ah, simple humor. Everybody loves Garfield when they’re a kid. We’ll get her on to Calvin and Hobbes soon— those don’t age so badly, you might like 'em— or hey, you won’t have read Bloom County—“ he turns from the bookshelf with his arms full, and sighs sheepishly at Trent’s raised eyebrows. “I’m just really glad you’re here, Trent. Both of you. Sorry. I know I get a little over-enthusiastic sometimes.”

Trent removes the stack of comic books from his arms, sets them on the end table, and kisses him. Lyra and Henry don't even notice. “It’s good to be wanted,” Trent says. “I’d rather have to set limits than pull affection out of you.”

Ted leans his forehead against Trent’s temple. “That should not be a problem.”

A few days before they leave Ted’s putting a load of laundry in and Trent says, “Let me sort that once it’s dry; we need to pull out our things.”  To Lyra he says, “Keep an eye out for your books, daemon; we need to start packing up.”

33.

The month leaves Ted thinking of what Higgins said that one time: “If you’re with the right person, even the hard times are easy.”  Ted’s not sure summer vacation in Kansas counts as hard times, but it was all easy: when Lyra had tantrums; when Henry was upset about soccer or some other, more arcane thing; when both kids got stomach flu (Michelle caught it from summer school and gave it to Henry) and they were all up for a miserable few nights.  (Ted and Trent don’t know how they escaped the bug, but were profoundly grateful.)

Henry gets a say, of course, but it turns out to be a very brief conversation.  He and Ted are on the couch watching a soccer game, and Henry says something about a play; Ted laughs.  "You sound just like Trent."

"Good.  Does anyone know more about football than he does?"

"Well, Roy, I guess.  Nate.  Hey," Ted turns toward Henry, "Trent was gonna think about moving over here.  How's that sound to you?"

"Really?!" Henry sits straight up and turns toward Ted, too.  "To live here with you?"

"Yeah, I mean, I dunno if it'll actually happen, but I'd like it.  Would you?"  

Henry sinks back into the couch again.  "Yeah, I like having a little sister."

So there's that.

34.

Trent doesn’t bring it up with Lyra until after Christmas, after Ted has come for a week at the end of his season and left them again to spend Christmas with Henry.  Lyra, at this point, loves Ted fully: greets him with delight and hugs, won’t let go of his legs when it’s time for him to leave, demands he read to her or build Legos in between.  Trent gives it another week, so she won’t be too influenced by Ted’s proximity, and brings it up at dinner.  “Lyra,” he says, “I’ve been wondering if we should move to Kansas to live with Ted.”  

35.

Ted wakes up to a text from Trent: Call me once you’re up. 

Ted's on the phone within a minute and a half, and Trent says, “Ted, my parents are taking Lyra for the half-holiday in March.  Have you any objection if I come visit?”

“Course not. You got a flight yet?" 

Ted’s there to pick Trent up from the airport; he opens his arms for a hug when he sees Trent, who kisses his cheek before leaning into him. He maybe leans a little harder than usual, but Ted’s happy to take his weight. He nuzzles into Trent’s hair and murmurs, “All right?”

“Mm.” Trent rests on Ted’s shoulder a minute, then sighs. “Long flight.”

In the car they’re quiet, Ted just happy Trent’s here, not willing to say anything to break the peaceful, sleepy mood. They’re almost at the house when Trent says, “My parents mentioned recently they were thinking of moving to Edinburgh, to be near my sister. They never planned to stay in London so long into retirement, and now that Lyra’s been in school and I don’t need so much help…”

“Yeah?” Ted’s not going to push. All Ted can do is lead him to the water, make sure it’s real attractive; he can’t make him drink.

“Mm.”

It’s a quiet evening, and a quiet day the next day.  They spend time in bed, make a big breakfast the next morning, plan dinner with Henry.  Ted might have forgotten to tell Henry Trent was coming, but Henry doesn’t seem to mind; he just says, “Oh, hi Trent,” when they pick him up from school the day after Trent arrives, and carries on with his account of his day.

“You want me to say it?” Ted asks that night. Trent is flipping through cable news channels, American politics being a sick fascination of his.

“Say what?”

“That if your parents move to Edinburgh, there don’t seem to be much keeping you and Lyra in London.”

Trent stares at the TV for a moment, but Ted’s pretty sure he can’t see Rachel Maddow. He clears his throat after a moment. “It does seem that way.”

“And I’d be pleased as punch to have you here. In this house, ideally, but in the same country would be a great start.”

Trent snorts and slings his legs over Ted’s lap. “‘Pleased as punch.’ You are a ridiculous man, and I don’t understand why I love you.”

Ted grins and takes the remote from him, tossing it on the end table. “Love you too, darlin’.”

Trent snorts, and kisses him.

36.

Trent had called his sister, when his parents broke their news.  He realized when she greeted him with surprise in her voice that they hadn't talked in a month. He used to call her weekly, trying to figure out how to parent his beloved daemon, but now he calls Ted with those questions. It's good to hear Molly’s voice, though, and he resolves to call more often again. He asks first about their parents moving to Scotland, and she tells him the neighborhoods they’ve looked at— he hadn’t realized they’d gotten so far. “I feel badly, if they’re up there the end times get dumped all on you,” he tells her, which she brushes off.

37.

They're doing dishes after dinner two nights later when Trent asks, “What is it like to live in a foreign country?”

Trent rinses the pan very thoroughly before he replies. “That’s a fairly good description, I think. Impermanent.  Except it alternated with moments of feeling I was in the exact right place in that moment, with the right people— that all was well.”

39.

Ted's been tracking Trent and Lyra's flight all day, no delays the whole way to Chicago and on to their connection, and he's at the airport just before they're due to touch down.  At the last minute there's some problem with landing and it's twenty minutes before he sees the line on the board switch to ARRIVED.  Ted breathes out and that's when it hits: the tingling hands, the ringing in his ears, the sense of the ground tilting underneath him... he tries to do his breathing but he's out of practice, he thought he was beyond this, there are too many people and carts and noisy things pulling him away from the swoosh in and out of his lungs... he stumbles over to a bench before he collapses.

Ted doesn’t know when it starts, but gradually he becomes aware of a small warm weight leaning against his left side, of fingers gripping his wrists tightly, of a familiar forehead leaning against his. “Ted,” Trent says softly. “Ted.”

Ted gasps, deep and shuddering, and presses his face forward into Trent’s. “Don’t leave. Please don’t leave.”

“Never, dearest. Never never.” Trent kisses Ted’s forehead and extracts a hand to run it through Ted’s hair.

“I’m sorry. I was so excited….”

“It’s all right. It’s all right.” Trent stands, and nudges Ted over on the bench so he can sit on Ted’s right, one arm woven around Ted’s waist, the other hand gripping Ted’s knee. Ted threads himself around Trent automatically, and puts his other arm around Lyra, who’s still leaning on his left side.

He kisses her head. “Sorry, angel. I used to get these attacks— hasn’t happened in a while. Now I ruined y’all’s getting here.” Lyra snuggles closer; she’s sleepy.

Trent shakes his head against Ted's shoulder, and Ted feels him sigh, deeply, as though something is settling into his soul.  After a moment Trent says, “It took me a long time to decide to move here because I thought it was— optional, I thought it was just about us wanting each other— I know you love me, God knows I love you, but we were both doing fine, it seemed, as we were.” Ted listens. Trent takes a minute to start talking again. “If you need me— if you’ve spent too much time in airports, or you need us to be your family, or whatever it is— that makes me want to stay. To be needed, properly. The last puzzle piece.”

“Number four,” Ted mumbles.

“Number four,” Trent agrees, and presses another kiss to Ted’s cheek.  When Ted looks at him he’s smiling a little, obviously tired but also fully relaxed for maybe the first time Ted has seen in a conversation about him moving.  “It doesn’t sound like anything a psychologist would approve— needing another person— I’ll figure it out more elegantly after some sleep. Regardless. It’s no bad thing that you’re flawed, my love.”

It’s Ted’s turn to sigh. He doesn’t entirely get it, but he knows Trent will figure out how to get the words right, how to explain it in a way Dr. Sharon would like. What does seem to have penetrated his thick skull, his wayward brain, is that Trent really does want to be there for Ted. He’s not going anywhere.

And Lyra. She’s dropped all the way down into Ted’s lap and fallen asleep, he finds.

Trent sees too. “I’ll find our luggage. Are you all right to drive?”

“I will be in a minute. Thanks, sweetheart.”

Trent kisses him again, and stands with a groan. It takes ten minutes to collect the suitcases, and then they wake Lyra, and drive home.

40.

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