"I'm listening," Jay replied attentively.
"I owe twenty thousand dollars to a bookie. And he's a serious guy. That's why I'm distressed. Not because I'm gay. Because I'm a bad gambler and I have bad habits. Just not the ones you think," Shorty confessed with shame.
Jay opened his mouth.
"Twenty thousand dollars?" Jay asked with horror.
"Twenty thousand. And I need you to lend it to me, or I'll have to move to another country. And I don't want to move to another country. I like my house. It has a new grill," Shorty said with hope.
"Do you take a check?" Jay asked with resignation.
"Cash is better," Shorty replied with a smile.
Jay sighed. He ran a hand through his hair.
"You're an idiot, Shorty," Jay said with affection.
"I know," Shorty admitted.
"But I love you like a brother," Jay said with sincerity.
"I love you too, even though you have a homosexuality detector that doesn't work," Shorty replied, laughing.
"I don't have a homosexuality detector," Jay denied.
"Mitchell has one, and he gave it to you like a cold. But of suspicions," Shorty said with mischief.
"It's not a cold. It's a way of seeing the world," Jay said stubbornly.
"It's a way of seeing the world that's broken. Like my golf swing," Shorty said with humor.
"Your swing isn't broken. It just needs adjustments," Jay said sincerely.
"My adjustments cost twenty thousand dollars," Shorty replied with a sad smile.
"That's not an adjustment. That's major surgery," Jay said, laughing.
Shorty smiled.
"Will you lend me the money or not?" Shorty asked with hope.
"I'll lend it to you. But I want you to know that this doesn't mean I'm gay," Jay said firmly.
"I know," Shorty replied.
"And that I'm not going on a picnic with you," Jay added.
"That's for both of us to decide," Shorty said with a smile.
"And that I'm not lying on a blanket with you to look at the stars," Jay said with discomfort.
"That's too specific, Jay," Shorty said, laughing.
"It's just that Mitchell told me that..." Jay began.
"It doesn't matter," Shorty interrupted. "Just lend me the money."
Jay nodded. Shorty extended his hand, and Jay shook it. It wasn't a firm handshake. It was a soft gesture, almost fragile, as if they were sealing a pact neither of them knew how to name.
Cameron approached me with bright eyes.
"This is beautiful," Cameron whispered with emotion.
"It's like life," I said.
"That too. But with more grass," Cameron replied with a smile.
We finished the round at noon. I had lost by fifteen strokes. Mitchell had lost by thirty. Shorty had lost by forty.
In the car, on the way home, Jay was at the wheel with an expression of fatigue. Mitchell and Cam were dropped off first at their house.
"Leo," Jay said without looking at me, through the rearview mirror.
"Yes?" I replied.
"Do you think Mitchell is proud of me?" Jay asked with doubt.
"For today?" I asked.
"For everything. For trying to change. For offering support to Shorty. Even though it ended with me lending him twenty thousand dollars," Jay said with a mix of pride and shame.
"I think so. But you shouldn't ask me. You should ask him," I replied sincerely.
Jay nodded.
"You're a good kid, Leo. Don't change," Jay said with a tired smile.
"I'll try," I replied.
"That's what people who know they're going to change say. But it's okay. We all change about fifteen percent, more or less," Jay said with wisdom.
"Fifteen percent?" I asked.
"That's what Mitchell said. That people can change about fifteen percent. It's not much. But sometimes it's enough," Jay replied.
"Thanks for coming, kid," Jay said. "Next time, I'll teach you how to really play."
"What if I don't want to learn?" I asked.
"Then I'll teach you how to lose. That's more important," Jay replied.
We arrived at my house. I got out of the car and closed the door softly. I stood for a moment on the sidewalk, watching him drive away.
The phone vibrated. It was Alex.
"Did you survive?" Alex asked with curiosity.
"I survived. Your grandpa lent twenty thousand dollars to Shorty," I replied.
"What?" Alex said with disbelief.
"It's a long story. I'll tell you later," I said.
"And the golf?" Alex asked.
"I lost. But I learned that people can change about fifteen percent," I replied.
"That's very specific," Alex said dryly.
"I know. But sometimes it's enough," I replied.
I put the phone away. I went inside. Mom was in the kitchen with a tray of freshly baked cookies.
"How was it?" Mom asked with a smile.
"It was good. I learned to lose," I replied.
"That's important," Mom said.
"That's what Jay said," I said.
"Jay is a wise man. Even if he has a statue of a butler dog in the guest room," Mom said, laughing.
"I didn't know you knew about Barkley," I said.
"Gloria told me. She said he was 'the devil with a mustache,'" Mom replied.
"Gloria always exaggerates," I said.
"Gloria always tells the truth. It's just that sometimes the truth is funnier," Mom said.
I took a cookie. I bit into it. It was warm, freshly baked.
"Thanks, Mom," I said.
"For what?" Susan asked.
"For the cookies. For being there. For everything," I replied.
Mom looked at me. In her eyes was tenderness.
"You're a good kid, Leo. Don't change," Susan said.
"I'll try," I replied.
"That's what people who know they've already changed say," Mom said with a smile.
I smiled. She did too.
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