Page 24 of Their Perfect Daddy

MICAH

L eaving Monty with his boyfriends— still a mind fuck thing to say —is difficult.

I want to stay and help my brother. Since the moment I realized he was hurt, I felt the need to come to his rescue.

Granted, that’s kind of been my thing since we were teens.

And I’m terrible about breaking bad habits.

Plus, I can see everything happening is taking a toll on him. His mental health has always been dependent on how he sees himself. If he’s not succeeding and gaining attention, then his mood tanks.

This is something worse than failing a test or being told he wasn't the best player on the team. This is him losing the ability to do what he loves. The thing he's passionate about.

How is he going to recover from this?

As I leave the hospital, I promise to be more active in his life. None of this avoiding him bullshit I’ve been known to do in the past. He's going to need me. He's going to need all of us.

I can't imagine not being a part of this journey with him. It would be like abandoning him when he needs support most.

My phone rings as I'm climbing into the car. I look down to see my mom's name on the screen. I answer right away.

"Hey Mom," I say. "Everything okay?"

She hums. "Yes, we’ve landed. We're waiting for our bags. I wanted to see if there’s anything we can do."

I blink at her words, surprised to hear she got here so quickly. Of course my curiosity won't leave it alone, so I ask how.

“You know your brother likes to send us money from time to time to pay bills and things.

We have told him we don't really need his help because things are fine now that we don't have two ravenous teenage boys around.

He hasn't listened, so the money has gone into an account for the last few years. Your dad decided paying for the convenience of a private flight would be worth it.”

I lean back against the seat and close my eyes. “What in the world? You two are something else,” I say.

I hear Dad chuckling in the background, which means he can hear me too. “You two are spoilsports. Monty would have loved me spending his money,” Dad shouts.

“Well Monty is currently in a hospital bed surrounded by…” I pause. “People who are worried for him. Soon you two will be encroaching on their territory.”

“Yes, we absolutely will,” Mom says firmly. “Because he is our baby, and we want to make sure he’s okay in person. The asshole who tackled him is going to get an earful when I meet him.”

I laugh at her fierce tone. “How do you intend get in touch with a professional player in the NFL? You just gonna knock on his front door, Mom?”

She scoffs. “I will do what I damn well please, young man. And don't speak as if I cannot find out information. I am pretty much a former FBI agent at the rate at which I can uncover things.”

“Amen to that!” Dad shouts. “Can't even eat a cookie in peace without the woman telling me I'm going to spoil my dinner. Mind you, I'm three rooms away.”

Mom giggles as if what he described isn't completely ludicrous. Shaking my head, I get on with the point.

“I'm actually at the hospital now. I can come pick you two up and bring you back if you want.”

“No need. We also hired a car to drive us there with the money he sent.”

“Okay then. Is there anything you didn't think to prepare for? Are you staying at a hotel? I feel as if I'm useless right now.”

“You're never useless, son. Updates on Monty are all we need.

Heck, simply talking to you has helped my nerves.

If you had sounded like you were upset, I would be worried about Monty.

But since you seem calm, I know he's fine.

We'd love it if we could see you too if you’re up to waiting for us.

It looks like it's about thirty minutes till we get there. Think you can keep yourself busy?”

“I'm sure I can figure out something, Mom. Let me send Danny a text to let him know so Monty can be prepared. I told him you were trying to make it, not that you'd gotten a private flight.”

There's silence on the other end, then Mom says, “Why is Danny with him? I thought Danny worked for you.”

I don't reply immediately. If there's one thing my mom hates more than being disrespected, it's being lied to. She says it's a double whammy when you add in the dishonesty, which is why she hates it so much.

“He’s there being supportive of Monty. I would rather not say why but know when you get here, you'll get all the answers you so desire.”

Mom clicks her tongue, then tells me she loves me and hangs up. I immediately call Danny rather than texting him because I want to make sure he understands the gravity of what I'm telling him.

“Hello? Micah?”

“My parents took a private plane. They're already here. Please warn Monty it's going to be less than thirty minutes ‘til they arrive. That's all the window you have.”

“What do you mean thirty minutes?! I'm not prepared to meet the parents. This is a disaster.”

I might have laughed at his overreaction any other time. Danny has already met my parents when they’ve visited. This is different though.

Skye's deep voice rings out in the background and then Monty's on the line. “Did you say thirty minutes ‘til our parents get here? How is it even possible?”

“Maybe because someone has been spoiling our parents with money they don't actually need, and they decided to put the money to use by coming to see you instead of using it for something else. Sound likely?”

Monty chuckles, then sucks in a breath. “Don't make me laugh. It hurts. And yeah I spoil them because they’re our parents. They put up with our bullshit when we were angsty teens. I want to make sure they have a nice life. Sue me.”

“It's not a bad thing, really. I understand your logic. If I made as much money as you, I would probably do the same. It's just amusing to me that instead of actually doing what you probably intended them to do with it, they're using it to come see you.”

Monty agrees with me, saying, “Yeah, you're right. Then again, it's our parents. What can we do?” Before I can respond he rushes to add, “I've got to go. These two guys need a quick rundown on all things Tempest.”

They sure do.

“I’ll be coming up with them. Hopefully I can put out any fires.”

“Much appreciated, bro. See you again soon.”

Once I'm done speaking with them, I call Jett. My sweet boy has been buried underneath paperwork ever since Monty was injured. It’s how he has been coping with knowing his friend is not doing well.

His sole focus is on figuring out how to fill the gap that Monty being down creates.

The Bulldogs are a fantastic team with a ton of strong players, but they’re not impervious to the common mistake of relying too much on specific people.

With Monty out for the rest of the season—and likely early into next—they have to know that the second-string members can step up. It's that or they make a trade and bring in someone who can fill his shoes until he's ready.

Jett has been going over the possibilities for each variance again and again, running numbers and statistics. I've been keeping an eye on him to make sure he doesn't overdo it. At the same time, I’ve been giving him the space to do what is needed to calm the storm inside of him.

My boy likes order. This sudden change means he doesn't have the order he needs. So he's doing what he can.

The phone rings twice before he answers. “Daddy,” he says softly.

I smile as I say, “Hello, sweet boy. I wanted to check on you to make sure you've eaten.”

He hums softly, my sign he hasn’t actually put anything into his stomach today. The shuffling of papers follows the noise and then he clears his throat.

“I might not have,” he says plainly.

Holding back the laughter that wants to fall from my lips is tough. Rather than scold him, I gently tell him what he needs to hear.

“Well now is a perfectly good stopping point to get something to eat. Why don't you take me into the kitchen with you, and we can make a sandwich together?”

I can hear him moving through our shared space as he goes and does as he's told. He doesn’t need to respond verbally for me to know he’s following Daddy’s instruction.

“How long until you get home, Daddy? You could have brought me something instead of me having a sandwich.”

“While it would normally be true, I just got off the phone with my parents and found out they’re already in town. They've asked me to come with them to see Monty.”

“Oh,” he replies.

“Yes, oh. Which means I’ll be delayed for a bit. Would you like me to come get you?”

I already know the answer before he blurts out, “No! No, Daddy.”

My boy would much rather be home alone in comfort than to be in the hospital surrounded by germs and people who don't understand his personal space.

Of course he's not much better about personal space, it only happens when he's truly excited about something.

For instance, if I were to mention trains, he would be all in my face with a ton of facts and information. Any other time, he can remain distant.

I talk him through making a sandwich and grabbing some chips, then tell him to consider a nap as well after he finishes eating.

“I don't know if I can nap without you,” he says.

“Why don't we try and see if you can? If it doesn't work, then you are welcome to stay awake.”

“Okay, Daddy.” His easy agreement clues me in on how tired he truly is.

We spend the next twenty minutes with him listening to me go over Monty's care plan while he eats. Since he has a personal relationship with my brother, I pressed Skye, no longer Dr. Gellar, for information. My boy listens carefully and asks questions when he can.

By the time he's done, I already know he's going to sleep hard until I can make it home. The sound of his yawn echoes over the line, then his voice softly tells me, “I guess I am kind of sleepy, Daddy.”

This time, I let the laugh free. “It sounds like you are, sweet boy. Go get in bed and cover up with your blankie. I'll tell you a short story until you fall asleep.”

He hums, and I start telling him a tale about a handsome boy and his Daddy. It's similar to others I’ve made up before, but my boy never complains. As long as it's the sound of my voice, he's content to listen.

By the time his soft snores echo across the line, I see my parents climbing out of the back of a car with their luggage. “Good night. Rest peacefully, sweet boy,” I tell him before hanging up.

I hop out of the car and shout, “Mom! Dad!”

They turn to face me quickly. As soon as it registers who I am, they drop the handles of their luggage and run over. They wrap me in a tight hug.

“Oh it's so good to see you,” Mom says.

Dad adds, “Feels like it's been ages, son.”

When they pull away, I have tears in my eyes.

No matter how old I get, seeing my parents is still one of those things that catches me by the throat.

The two of them raised us as best they could as single parents.

But there was something magical about when they came together.

They created a family I never imagined yet love all the same.

“Let’s put your luggage in my car. I'll drive you wherever you're staying later. We need to get upstairs. I'm sure Monty's a nervous wreck by now.”

“Why would he be nervous?” Mom asks. “It's us.”

Dad shakes his head from behind her and rolls his eyes. I laugh as I stick her suitcase in the trunk. “No reason, Mom. None at all.”