“I need you to take your baby.”
I know I’m hungover, possibly still drunk, plus it is only seven a.m., but there’s no way in fuck I just heard her correctly... right?
My baby?
“Uh, excuse me? I don’t have a baby.”
She has a strange look on her face, a mixture of sadness, embarrassment, and what seems like panic.
“So, uh, we met about nine months ago. You probably don’t remember much. I mean, I was bartending, and you easily put down enough shots to forget the night, if not the week. But we ended up in the bathroom at closing time, and apparently, we didn’t use protection because she’s here.”
She.
I have a daughter.
“Maureen... I...”
“It’s Miranda.”
“Sorry, I, uh, I think you have the wrong person. There’s no way I’m a father, plus I always use protection.”
It’s true. I always use protection, no matter what. I mean, even when I was on the team and would hook up with puck bunnies at our games, I never forgot protection. But... what if I did? If my math is right, this would have been shortly after I realized my career with hockey was over.
“Okay, Rex. Well, she’s here, and she’s yours. This is her bag, it has everything you’ll need. You’re much more capable than I am, even if it does seem like you’re struggling right now,” she says, glancing around my apartment, tears filling her eyes. “Look, I just want her to have a shot at a good life, and that’s not with me. I don’t want to be a mom; I never have.” I try to stop her by putting my hand up, but she easily ignores me, continuing on as if she’s afraid to stop talking. “Along with all her things, in the bag is her birth certificate and the paternity test I had done. Don’t ask, but I promise you it’s true. You can repeat the test, and you’ll get the same results. I, uh, I also signed over my rights. After this, she’s yours and only yours.”
The reality of the situation starts to hit me, and I realize that there’s no way my apartment is a good place for a baby right now.
“Uh, can you give me a minute? Come on in, I just need to gather my thoughts.”
“I can’t stay long; I have a train to catch in an hour.”
“Wait. You’re leaving already?”
“Yeah. I... I can’t stay. I thought I could do this, but I can’t, and honestly, this is going to make me sound like the worst person ever, but I don’t want to do it. I don’t want to be a mom. But I’m not evil. I don’t want her to have a bad life. You’re her father, her only shot.”
Is she serious right now? I can’t even take care of myself, and yet this woman thinks I’m able to take care of a baby that I didn’t even know existed.
“Can I make a phone call before you leave?”
“Yeah, no problem.”
Walking past the mess of my living room, I go back into my room to find my phone. There’s only one person for me to call, and I just pray she can get here quickly.
“Mom? I need you. Now. Please come over.”
REX
PRESENT DAY
I’ve been driving around this city for the last three days, sitting in interview after interview, but nothing feels fucking good enough.
When Bernard called me with a job offer, I told him no. Absolutely not. Don’t get me wrong; it was an incredible opportunity, but it was back in New York, and I’ve refused to return since I left the NY Cyclones five years ago.
Now, he expects me to just pack up my life in Austin, Texas, and move back home? It’s not as easy now as it was back then. I have more than just myself to worry about this time. I should have known better than to argue, though. Bernard was annoyingly persistent and smart enough to sweeten the deal a bit until I finally caved and accepted the job. Now I’m the new head coach for the men’s hockey team at Brooklyn University here in New York.
Bernard also helped pull some strings to get Rory into the university daycare. Apparently, it’s an amazing program that has a waitlist a mile long. I still interviewed almost every other daycare around us to make sure it’s the best choice, but it is.
It’s been exhausting traveling around New York and interviewing at least thirty different daycares this week. I’m worn out.