Page 80 of My Wife
“There’s nothing to worry about. I’ll give authorization. I have full custody of the kid.”
For now.
“Great. Any information, records, and such that you have on file would also be helpful.”
I shake my head. “He only came with a note.”
The meaning of this batters me like an entire fleet of hockey players armed with sticks and pucks. If only I’d known about the kid, I could’ve done something sooner to help. “I don’t know if he went for regular checkups and had his hearing evaluated, or if it was overlooked entirely.”
She shifts as if uncomfortable.
Swallowing back a thick lump in my throat, I say, “Thanks, Jessica.”
She nods and then pats the steering wheel as if wanting to change the subject. “Thank you for this. I think I’ll name him Bigfoot.”
“How about not?”
“That’s no fun. Life is about relationships.”
“You can’t have a relationship with a vehicle.”
“Tell that to Shy Eye Good Guy. We made a lot of memories together.”
She starts to tell me about them, including how once a duck jumped into the passenger seat like she was a cab driver.
Jessica breezes past my moods like nothing can bring her down. Not that I’m trying to diminish her. But it’s impressive how she just keeps on smiling. Must live a charmed life.
For the next few days, I have one boot on the ground and the other on the ice until we travel to Pennsylvania for a game against the Generals. They’re a decent team and I need to keep my head in the game.
The front line is relentless, reminding me of Jessica. Beau refuses to let the puck in the net. Our defense is tight with speed and agility. ‘Bama and Hayden each get goals. The Generals do too and the game is tied at the close so we go into a sudden-death overtime with three on three.
Pierre gets the job done.
Unfortunately, our flight back is delayed due to a band of storms dipping down from Canada. I take the opportunity to call my parents who gloat about having moved from Brookking Sound northwest of Toronto to sunny San Diego, at least during the winter months.
They’re both on speakerphone, encouraging me to visit. Little do they knowmeis now awe. A trio, if I add my assistant and nanny, Jessica.
I brush my hand down my face, wishing I were at home with them in Nebraska. However, with the chill in the air, I wouldn’t say no to a family trip out west.
So why haven’t I told Mom and Dad that I’m a father?
My mother asks, “When is your next game in Los Angeles?”
“We’ll come up,” Dad says.
“My assistant will let you know.”
“Oh, Jessica? She’s a darling,” Mom says.
My jaw smashes into the worn linoleum floor of the airport. “What?”
“She and I swapped recipes.”
“When? Where? Why?” This is news to me. I immediately start pacing because of what this could mean.
Mom answers, “She wanted to know when your birthday is.”
“But how’d she get your number? She must’ve gone on my phone. That sneaky little rule breaker.” My voice is tight.
