Page 20

20

Christian

A fter Maya’s date with Spencer last night, which she didn’t seem too excited about, I still feel like the space between us is growing even wider. And I don’t know what the fuck to do.

So, that morning, when I come over and Maya says, “Since you did such a great job last night, would you be up for babysitting this afternoon?” I almost lose my shit.

“Why? You have another date with the fucking bench warmer?” I snap.

Maya rolls her eyes, and warns me, “Watch it with the swear words.”

“Sorry,” I mutter.

“And no, it’s not a date. I have a job interview!”

“Oh wow. Congrats.”

“All thanks to the bench warmer ,” she replies.

“Great.”

“It is great. Spencer told me about his aunt who works at a retirement home. Her boss agreed to meet with me about an activity director position. I sent over my resume an hour ago and she emailed to ask if I could come in for an interview at four today!”

“That’s…wow.” Shit. Maya might get a job here in Bethesda, which means the chances of her and Finley moving to North Carolina are dropping even lower.

“Right? It’s exactly what I had hoped to do.”

“So, if you get the job, you’re definitely staying here?”

“I’ve told you from the beginning that we weren’t moving,” she replies. “So? Can you stay with Finley for a few hours again today?”

“Yeah, I can stay with him. We had fun last night,” I tell her. “Good luck, I guess?”

“Thank you!” she says excitedly before running off. “Now, I have to figure out what to wear!”

Later that afternoon, I’m eating pizza at the table with Finley, who is still, unfortunately wearing his new, signed, Spencer Williams Warhawk’s jersey, feeling like a dick for hoping Maya doesn’t get the job when Finley asks me, “Did you always want to play hockey?”

“Yes,” I answer, pausing with my next slice halfway to my mouth. “Even though my dad wasn’t ever thrilled with the idea. Still isn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s a professor, a genius with a doctorate who teaches at a university. He thinks it’s stupid for grown men to chase around a puck on ice skates. For years, I thought he was just being an ah… being difficult.” I barely catch the swear word in time. “But then when I got older, I realized he mostly just didn’t want to see me get hurt.”

Finley nods as if that all makes sense to him. And he’s a smart kid, so it probably does. His intelligence all came from his mother.

“I wonder if my dad’s a professor. Or maybe he’s an astronaut,” he says softly. “That would be cool too.”

“That would definitely be cooler than him being a hockey player,” I agree before biting into my slice of pepperoni.

His eyes widen. “You think my dad could be a hockey player? Like you and Uncle Preston are, playing in the big arenas full of people?”

I swallow, then tell him, “Yeah, I do, so you got your skills from both sides of your family.”

Tilting his head to the side, Finley says, “How do you know?”

“How do I know what?”

“That my dad plays hockey. Do you know him?”

“Ah, well…” I pick off some pepperonis while I struggle to figure out how to answer his question. Having him ask me about his father while wearing another man’s hockey jersey makes me so fucking angry. And jealous. God, I’m just tired of lying, of pretending that he’s not my son and I’m not his father. While I know Maya wanted to wait and tell him on her own timeline, Finley deserves to know the truth. He deserves to know that I’m not just some random hockey player he looks up to babysitting him for a few hours, but that I love him so damn much I would do literally anything in the world for him.

“You’ve already met your father, actually,” I tell Finley, swallowing around the sudden tightness in my throat. Not out of fear of Maya’s reaction, but a new fear of how Finley will handle it. I didn’t even know to worry about that before now, but it still doesn’t stop me from saying, “In fact, you’ve spent the whole summer playing hockey in the backyard and eating pizza with him.”

“But…” Finley trails off as he bites into his cheese pizza, chews it up, takes another bite, all while thinking that information over. Finally, he swallows and tosses the crust down on his plate. “You’re the only one I’ve played with this summer. You and Uncle Preston.”

“That’s right.” I nod my head in agreement, letting him put the pieces together.

He blinks at me, staring at my face. “Are you my father?”

Holy shit, the waterworks instantly turn on and I have to blink the tears away after hearing him use that word in reference to me.

Giving him a smile, I say, “I am, Finley. I’m your father.”

And those are the last words I get to say before he storms off to his room and slams the door.

I imagined having this conversation with him so many times, and this is not at all how I expected it to go.

In the best scenarios, Finley would immediately throw his arms around my neck to hug me and tell me that he’s glad I’m his dad.

This version is definitely the worst. I should’ve expected the anger for lying to him for weeks. Just because he’s a kid doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t be hurt by the betrayal.

After wiping off my greasy hands on a napkin, I go after him. I knock on the bedroom door and try the doorknob that’s locked. “Finley, please let me come in so we can talk about this, okay buddy? I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner…”

“You lied to me! Every day! You’re a big fat liar!”

“I wish I had told you sooner,” I reply. “And I’m sorry I didn’t. Your…family thought it would be best if we got to know each other as friends first, and that was all my fault. Your mom and uncle weren’t sure if I was up to the job of being your dad, so I had to prove it to them. That’s what I’ve been doing all summer. Not lying to you, but proving to your mom that she could trust me to take care of you.”

He doesn’t respond to a word I say the rest of the afternoon through the door.

And when Maya comes home from her interview, I lie and tell her Finley was tired and went to bed early before leaving. I just don’t have the energy to fight with her, too.