“Yeah, well he must be doing something right,” Cam countered. “He’s got one of the top-rated shows on the network. Not many people in the world can say that.”

“True, but what does he really do? He just visits restaurants around the country and shoots the shit with the owners and patrons,” Jason added, obviously in agreement with my opinion. “So, are you going to tell us how many weeks we have to watch him? Because as much as I love you, I’m not sure I’ll make it through to the end without throwing something at the television.”

“There are only ten episodes left.” Cam was getting better at deflecting the constant prodding for him to tell us how he did on the show. Jason perked up, assuming Cam was giving him some sort of clue that he’d made it to the finals. His shoulders slumped forward almost as soon as Cam started talking again. “Remember, I spent a month living with these people. Even if I’m not on the show, I’m going to want to watch to see how they did.”

Jason groaned. “Babe, you’ve got to give me more than that. Seriously, the only reason I’m watching is for you. Once you’re cut, you can keep watching and I’ll be able to fuck around on the computer without feeling guilty.”

Cam shrugged and turned back to whatever he was working on on the stove. “Guess you’ll just have to wait and see along with everyone else.”

He glanced over his shoulder and blew Jason a kiss. Jason scowled, but no one would have believed that he was genuinely upset. If anything, it seemed this had become some sort of ritual for them, and would likely end later tonight when everyone had gone to bed, with Jason trying to coax the information out in exchange for sexual favors.

With sex back on my mind, I realized Bryce and Drew still hadn’t come out of the bedroom. I excused myself and ambled through the great room. I hadn’t made it halfway down the hall when my phone started ringing. Jason glanced at the screen and wished me luck as he tossed the phone in my direction.

It was Sam Carlson, my agent. I tried to tell myself it wasn’t necessarily bad news, but with every day the Sound head office waited to sign my new contract, the less certain I’d become of my future with the team.

“Sam, tell me you have good news for me,” I answered, skipping over pleasantries. It was a holiday week, which made it odd that he was calling now. I couldn’t imagine most of the decision-makers were doing much deciding when they could be off spending time with their families.

Sam sighed heavily and my heart plummeted. I’d been with him since I was in college and I’d learned to read his non-verbal cues to figure out the meaning behind what he was saying. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t good at his job, but he had a tendency to try to soften the blow and make average deals seem better than they were. He had his few heavy-hitters who did a sufficient job lining his pockets, so the rest of us were just extra padding to him.

“I’m afraid I don’t, Eric.” At least he sounded upset for me. “They’ve opted out of signing a new contract. Now, don’t worry too much because I’m in talks with a few other teams to see if they’re interested in you now that you’re a free agent. There’s plenty of time before the start of next year. I’m sure something will come along.”

That was easy for him to say. He wasn’t the one who’d just gotten the ax. As much as I didn’t want to get sent down, it seemed like even more of a blow that they were cutting me outright from the team. There was no security, no forty-man roster to assure me I could work my way back to Iberia Field. I was cut loose with no guarantee anyone would want me.

When I was younger, I had plenty of confidence in my abilities. I put up solid numbers even though I was never going to be a record breaker. My coaches and managers called on me for my ability to go out there and play a smart game every day, knowing that I wouldn’t let them down. Now, I was creeping up on forty, which felt ancient with all of the kids in their early twenties being called up every week. Granted, I still had a few years to go before hitting that particular milestone, but when sitting next to guys who were barely into their twenties, that didn’t matter. I was fucking old.

I wasn’t as confident as Sam that another team would want me. Last year hadn’t been my best, but I’d also had a lot on my mind. Seattle had never felt like home to me. It was the place I’d been shipped off to play whether I liked it or not. And then my grandpa died and I was left to deal with that. And yeah, the drama with Mason and Sean being outed took an emotional toll on me as well. I wanted to be there for them, to help make sure they weren’t going to fall apart when faced with the assholes coming at them with disgusting slurs. I shouldn’t have let any of that affect my play, but I know it all had.

And honestly, I wasn’t sure I’d take a deal if it was offered to me unless I was guaranteed I wouldn’t be back in the minors. Having to go down and wait for the skipper to call me into his office at my age would be humiliating. Not only that, but where the young players looked at it as a way to groom themselves into the players of the future, for guys like me, it was no different than being sent out to pasture.

“Thanks for letting me know, Sam,” I responded. I didn’t let him know about any of the reservations I felt at the time because I didn’t want him to think I was giving up. I wasn’t a quitter, it was more that I was starting to realize that baseball couldn’t last forever and it might be time to get ready to hang it up.

“I’m sorry I dropped this on you right before the holiday,” Sam apologized. “But you needed to know as soon as I did.”

“I understand. Happy Thanksgiving.” When I hung up the phone, I realized all eyes were on me. Even Cam had stopped cooking, waiting to see what was going on. I choked on the words, not ready to voice to those closest to me what I already knew. “I’m a free agent. Seattle decided they didn’t want to sign the new contract.”

Drew was by my side immediately, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Hey, something else will come along. Maybe even something where you won’t be all the way on the other side of the country.”

“Yeah, maybe.” I wished I still had the optimism he held toward the game. He was just entering his prime and had yet to realize just how shitty it was to realize that the glory days don’t last. I slid out of his grasp and told everyone I’d be back. I needed a few minutes to clear my head and wasn’t in the mood for anyone to try and cheer me up.

I probably shouldn’t have been driving, but my car was the only place I could think of where no one would try interrupting my moping. I drove for over an hour before parking my car in front of Sean’s house. I wasn’t even sure if they were still home, but I needed to talk to him.

The house was dark except for one light shining from somewhere in the back. I stood in front of the door and debated whether or not to ring the bell. I jumped when the front porch light turned on, blinding me since my eyes had adjusted to the pitch black night.

“Halloween was a few weeks ago, kid. You’ll have to come back next year,” Mason teased. He stepped outside and closed the door behind him. As much as I liked the guy, I wasn’t in the mood for his comic relief. Then again, he was the one person in our circle of friends who might understand the bullshit swirling through my mind. Maybe it wasn’t Sean I drove over here to see at all. “Hey, you okay?”

Mason gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. I had no clue how he wasn’t freezing his ass off. It couldn’t be more than forty degrees and the forecasters were calling for snow tonight, and yet it didn’t seem to bother him that he was only wearing his old Bulldogs T-shirt.

“Had better days,” I admitted. “Would it be rude to invite myself in? It’s fucking cold out here.”

“Yeah, sure. Just keep your voice down until we get to the basement. Asher’s teething again and he’s not a fan. It took Sean over an hour to get him calmed down enough to go to sleep.”