Page 72 of Draft Pick

I nodded. "We just found out the other day. According to the doc, she's healthy and strong."

"Oh my God," she said, her eyes welling. I didn't know if it was because she was overwhelmed or devastated. It could've gone either way.

But my dad took it another way, gesturing wildly. "Look what you've done to your mother! You think this is how she wanted to hear she's going to be a grandmother?"

For that, I was sorry, but I refused to back down on my position. "Be that as it may, she's coming so everyone better get on board with the idea or get left behind."

"What are you saying, Cason?" My mom said incredulously, the hurt in her tone. "Are you threatening to walk out on your family over this?"

I didn't want to answer, but I was ready to go the distance to show them I meant business. I was done with the heavy-handed management of my life.

"You have no idea the mess you've just made of your goddamn life," my dad growled, starting to pace. "This family has made countless sacrifices for the sake of your future and this is a bullshit way of showing your gratitude."

"Don't start, Dad," I said, glaring. This argument always sent me through the roof. "I'm done with your bullshit guilt trips. You never asked me if I wanted a career as a professional football player, you just pushed me that way until I had no other way to go. So spare me your song and dance about how you've selflessly done all this crap for me. You did it for yourself and your ego. I've known it for a long time but out of respect never called you out on it but I'm done with that. I'm not a kid anymore and I'll make my own decisions."

"Yeah, and you're doing a bang-up job so far," my dad shouted.

My mom's eyes filled with tears at the discord. "Please, don't fight. Not in this house. Your brothers will hear you. I don't want them to find out this way."

But my dad was relentless. "You're going to get a paternity test — and until the results come back, you're not going to do a damn thing. We need to get ahead of this situation before it tanks your entire future."

"Stop!" I shouted, my fists balling from frustration. "I don't need youmanagingme."

"Your dad's just trying to help," my mom tried interjecting, but I wasn't buying it.

"No, he's not, he's trying to put his hands all over my life, just like he always does. He doesn't fucking listen to a word I say and runs over the top of me if I happen to say something he doesn't like. Well, I'm having a kid, Dad. Do you hear me? A kid of my own and I've already got the paternity test results. The baby is mine. And if you can't start accepting that you're about to be a grandfather, then I hear your choice loud and clear. However, understand this...if I walk away, I'm not coming back."

My mom, realizing the gravity of the situation, snapped out of her stupor and stepped in. "Enough!" she exclaimed, her voice cutting through the tension. "Both of you, acting like loud, abrasive jackasses trying to win a braying contest. We're a family, for God's sake. This is not the way to handle the situation. We just need to take a minute and think this through."

"Gina, this isn't something we can ignore," he barked, still glaring at me. "We don't know anything about this girl. Where is she from? Where did you meet her? How do you know she didn't try and trap you? It's the oldest trick in the book — you're poised on the brink of a career most people only dream about —

"She didn't trap me," I growled, ready to walk. "It was an accident but you know what? I'm not sorry. I'm glad. No, actually, I'm ecstatic! Finally, something bigger than my goddamn football career for us to talk about. I haven't had a conversation with you since I was in junior high that didn't revolve around football. Did it ever occur to you that I might just want you to be my dad? Not my manager. Not my bullhorn. Just my dad."

My dad stared, his nostrils flaring as if ready to hurl a hot denial, but then something pierced that hard head, and he seamed his mouth shut, giving my mom an opportunity to jump in.

Silence settled between us, the clock ticking in the distance, the only sound. The red-hot burn of anger receded, leaving a raw wound of hurt. Why couldn't they just be supportive? Help me if Iaskfor help but allow me to figure out my own life, for fuck's sake? Why did it have to be a fight whenever I wanted to do things my way?

My mom broke the heavy silence with a tentative, "Cason…who is she? Do we know her?"

I looked at my mom, admitting, "No, you don't."

My mom was desperately seeking common ground. "Oh, I see, h-how did you meet? What is her name?"

My dad, shaking his head, looked away as if he wasn't ready to hear or participate in this conversation. I knew how his mind worked – he was worrying about the financial ramifications to my future.

As a lawyer, my dad thought everyone had something to hide or ulterior motives. I didn't know how to make him see that Starlie was nothing like that kind of person.

"Her name is Starlie Morris, she's a child development major at San Jose State. She's smart, beautiful, and she can sing like Taylor Swift. That's how we met, actually. I was at a karaoke bar and she was singing. I couldn't take my eyes off her." The memory of Starlie on stage still took my breath away.

My dad exhaled a short breath as if annoyed but kept his comments to himself, which was probably wise.

"I want to meet her," my mom said, her voice trembling. "May I ask…how far along is she?"

"She's due in March, so she's in her second trimester right now."

"Convenient," my dad muttered. "Right before the draft."

"Dan!" My mom snapped, shutting down her husband's mutterings. My mom rarely contradicted my dad, but when she went against him, it was for a good reason, which was probably why he seemed to realize he was treading on thin ice — with both of us.

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