Page 62 of Press Your Luck

I took a moment to breathe as I worked to grapple with the task of bonding with my son while also having to face off against the woman I longed for but couldn't have.

"Hey, what do you say we order some room service?" I suggested, eager to take advantage of the hotel's amenities to make this trip memorable for Porter.

Porter's eyes widened with excitement. "Like a restaurant but they bring it to our room?”

I nodded.

“Can I order?"

"Of course.” I handed him the menu and watched as he eagerly scanned the options.

“I want a hamburger and onion rings. Mom says French fries are better because onions make your mouth stink. But I like onion rings.”

“I do too. We’ll order two servings.” After we placed our order, I thought I’d remind him how things were going to work. "Tonight, after we eat, there will be a little press conference.”

“Coach Naomi will be there.”

I nodded. “Yes. Tomorrow, we play.”

“And the next day, we can go to the special zoo?”

“Yes.” It had taken hours of shoot ’em up games, but finally, I was able to learn that along with gaming, Porter liked animals. Big cats especially, but other wild animals as well. When I learned we were invited to play in San Diego, I knew I needed to bring Porter to the zoo here. So while my team would fly home the day after tomorrow, Porter and I would hang out for an extra day. I wondered if Naomi would join us. Ugh... no.Stop thinking about her.

When our meal arrived, we sat at the table overlooking San Diego. I wished they’d built the ice arena closer to the beach. It would have been nice to see the water. Maybe I’d still take Porter to the beach.

“Did you play in tournaments when you played hockey?”

Porter’s question caught me off guard. He rarely asked questions about me personally. The last one was why I’d been with his mom. At least this one I could answer honestly. “I did.”

“Were you good?”

“I did alright. I wasn’t as good as Bo was.”

“I bet you could beat Coach Naomi.” He dunked his onion ring into his ketchup.

I had to tread carefully. I didn’t want Porter to have an idea that men were better at things simply because they were men. “Back then, maybe. But now, I’m not so sure. Your old man is old now. And Naomi was an outstanding player when she played.”

He studied me over the soda straw. “I think you like her.”

“I admire all great hockey players.” I shoved my burger in my mouth, hoping to hide any evidence that he was right.

“How come you’re not married? If you're old, you should be married.”

“Not all people get married.” I didn’t ask about Jeannie because Porter had let me know that he’d already had two step-dads. Both ex-hockey players. One, I knew well back in the day.

“Don’t you like girls?”

I took a bite of an onion ring as I tried to figure out how I could coax this conversation away from what I worried might be coming—a discussion of the birds and bees.

“I like women. But I also like my job. And I also like being your dad.”

His eyes rounded like he didn’t expect that. “You do?”

“I do. A lot.” God, I wanted to reach over and hug him, but while we’d made progress, I didn’t think we were at the hugging stage.

He looked down. “You’re a pretty good dad.”

My heart leapt in my chest. He’d yet to call me Dad. That was the closest to it. “Thank you.”

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