by Rebecca York
Julia’s silence had made him ache for his son’s innocence and sent tears to his eyes, but this was no time to display weakness. He’d tried to control the anger swelling within his heart and mind, but failed. “Talk to me, Julia. Did you consider the boy’s feelings at all, even if you didn’t consider mine?” he yelled.
“Calm down, Lars, there’s no need for shouting. Let’s keep this civilized, shall we? I’d never keep Jeff out of your life. I know he loves you. Once our attorneys figure out the particulars, I’m sure we can come to an amicable agreement regarding visitation and joint custody.”
Lars had heaved a giant sigh. “Julia. This doesn’t end here. We’ll see how this plays out. You’ll be sorry you fucked with me.”
Julia had ended the call after his threat, and never answered the phone after that. Lars had an immediate consultation with his new attorney, courtesy of the team, and the man suggested they ship a cell phone specifically for the child to the house with Jeff’s name on the package. Lars wrote a loving, positive note to Jeff and included it with the shipment.
A follow up letter emailed from his attorney to Julia’s confirmed the cell had been activated the day it arrived, complete with a warning she wasn’t to interfere with their communication - thus father and son were able to face time in private.
So far, Julia had complied with the edict without argument or causing trouble. Lars called his son every night, after dinner and way before bedtime, so his estranged wife couldn’t use the man’s timing as an excuse to disallow the calls.
Saturday night before the season opener when Lars had called Jeff for face time, the boy had sent him a wide grin and asked, “Are you gonna be playing football tomorrow? I want to watch you on TV because you’re my daddy, and it’s so cool you’re a field goal kicker. You almost never miss, right?”
Not wanting to alert his son to further bad news with the divorce looming, Lars hadn’t disclosed his broken ankle to the boy, and even Julia wasn’t aware of the extent of his injuries. Part of it was due to the helpful expertise of the team doctors who respected Lars’s need for his privacy. His surgery was kept on the QT and out of the news – and even social media hadn’t a clue.
He now realized it was only a matter of time before the press would start providing answers as to why the team’s star kicker wasn’t playing – like on Sunday’s season opener.
“Jeff, I’m sorry to have to tell you, but I’m not going to be able to play football this year,” he told the child gently. “I broke my ankle last month, and the doctor had to operate on my bone.”
“Geez, Daddy, then why didn’t you come back home, if you ain’t playing?” he asked with a troubled expression. “Is it cuz of that divorce thing Mommy’s doing?”
How does a man clarify such complications to a six-year old kid regarding his parents’ divorce? Or make him understand the surgeon had strictly forbade him to travel, until a walking cast replaced the one he now wore, to protect the pins that had been implanted in his ankle?
Since Lars had always been upfront with Jeff, and answered the boy’s questions honestly considering his young age, he searched his mind for a simple way to explain his plight.
“Jeff, one of our defensive linemen fell on my ankle during practice. You remember how big those dudes are, right?”
“Yeah. They’re huge, like giants. Did he do it on purpose?”
Lars smiled sadly at the boy’s innocent question, even though at the time he’d been extremely angry one of his own teammates had inadvertently ruined his season – or perhaps more seasons to come, if another surgery proved necessary.
“Nah, it was an accident. The defensemen were pushing and shoving, and one of them tripped the dude who fell on me.”
Jeff’s brown eyes went wide with sympathy. “Gee, Daddy, did it hurt real bad?”
“Like a mother-f**ker,” Lars recalled, but kept that comment to himself.
Instead, he said, “Hey, kiddo? Remember when you fell off the swing and broke your arm last summer?”
He watched Jeff flex his completely healed, left arm. “Yeah, Daddy, sure I do. You and Mommy took me to the hospital and I had to wear a cast on it. It was itchy and I didn’t like how it felt, and it stunk how I couldn’t go swimming in the lake.”
Lars arranged his features into one of exaggerated understanding. “Well, buddy, I know how you must’ve felt, because I have a big white cast on my ankle right this minute.” He placed the phone screen so Jeff could see the cast propped on the ottoman. “Mine itches the bottom of my foot so badly it makes me want to yell my brains out.”
When Lars hollered, “Oh, darn, but this sucker itches,” his son giggled, so he continued. “Anyhow, the doctor is going to take it off next week, and he’ll be able to let me know how the bone’s healing by taking pictures of it. It’s called having an x-ray. He said when the bone’s better, he’ll put on a different cast I can walk on, so I can travel and come see you.”
He saw the child’s face screw up like he was going to cry. “What if Mommy doesn’t let you come here to see me?”
The man’s gut twisted. “Then, I’ll get a hotel by the house, and we can visit there.”
“Whatsa hotel?”
Lars suddenly snapped his fingers and grinned at the phone to alleviate the child’s sadness. “Hey, Jeff. I have an even better idea. Let’s ask Pop-Pop Whitney to bring you to see me here in Jersey. Pop-Pop loves to fly, same as you. Now, don’t cry, okay? I’ll call him later and I promise to see you just as soon as I’m able. Okay?”
Jeff wiped his nose on his shirt with a sniff. “Are you still gonna watch the game tomorrow? And is it okay if I watch the game, too?”
“Sure, big guy. The Jersey Giants will always need our support, right? Now give me smile, it’s probably close to your bedtime and your mother will probably want to be tucking you in soon. I love you, Jeff.”
The boy kissed the phone screen. “I love you, too, Daddy.”
“Okay, sweet dreams, and I’ll call you after the game tomorrow. Have a good sleep, Son.”
***
Lars shelved his recollections and turned the volume back on. The Jersey Giants won the toss and had elected to kick off to their rivals.
The emotional chaos subsided with his decision to call Adam Whitney during half time about the possibility of him flying down to Atlanta, and retrieving his son.
He also prayed for good news at his next doctor appointment, happy he had such a great dad to rely on - one who would eagerly agree to bring the boy to see him.
Chapter Five
October 2018: Just Sonia
Two weeks before Halloween, Sonia laughed out loud and clapped her hands like a kid after reading the latest review she’d received on her website.
“Five glorious stars awarded for Sparkles of the Season,” read the headline submitted by Satisfied Over the Moon Author. “Sonia’s creations mark the difference between good stock photos versus her originals, because her personal touch is phenomenal,” Sonia read aloud. “I’ve sold more books this last month than ever before, and I’m sure it’s because of Sonia’s memes. Plus, she’s so easy to work with and her fees are reasonable. Great job!”
Best of all, she spied a dozen new messages marked ‘to read’ on the inbox tab.
Then, remembering her manners, Sonia bowed her head in prayer and thanked God for her good fortune.
“And if You wouldn’t mind,” she whispered, “Please make sure David’s aware he was the inspiration for my business in the first place. Amen.”
Sonia sipped her tea in the kitchen before opening the messages, and recalled all the hard work she’d put into her developing business, ever since the first day she’d taken those pictures of David’s garden.
For a woman with no experience, she could’ve done a lot worse, even though there’d been instances when her days had been riddled with errors and frustration.
Like the time when she’d accidentally deleted her entire website before backing it up on a th
umb drive, and had to start all over again. Thankfully she’d had carefully written down all the steps down in a notebook, like her mom had suggested.
The second installation had proved easier, but she vowed never to make that mistake again. At least four thumb drives were stored in her desk, and she made sure to back up all her photos and the blogs she wrote and posted bi-weekly on her social media page – not to mention the all-important, growing list of clients and their contact information.
Sonia had also learned the hard way that keeping a glass of water next to her computer was a distinct no-no, after she’d knocked it over and the liquid destroyed her wireless keyboard and mouse.
All in all, getting familiar with navigating the new website and researching ways to generate a computer-based business sidelined Sonia’s grief – until late at night.
A few weeks after Sparkles of the Season was up and running, Sonia decided to put her sleepless nights to better use by marketing on Twitter and Facebook. For every tweet or share she received in groups specific to her specialty, she always returned the favors, and then some. Plus, she soon made new friends all over the world and even acquired quite a few international clients, while folks in the United States slept.
Word of mouth also became a Godsend when pleased authors shared their satisfaction with other author buds, which directed more referrals her way.
Miriam came over every other day and listened with a proud smile when Sonia shared her progress.
“Because my clients are pretty well finished publishing their holiday stories, business may slow down a little until after the New Year, when they’ll be ready to upload books for Valentine’s Day,” she’d said to her mother. “I’d better get some memes together and increase my photo stock.”
Then Sonia’s face had crumpled. “God, Mom, I don’t know how I’m going to get through the holidays without David.”
She accepted the tissue Miriam had handed over and wiped away the tears. “Sorry, Mom. Sometimes unexpected grief creeps up on me.”
“No worries,” the older woman said. “I completely understand, but you’ll manage, even though it’ll be painful. Change of topic, all right? There’s a practicality to think about regarding your business. Tax season is also right around the corner. Have you considered hiring an accountant yet?”
Sonia sent her mom a wobbly smile as a good idea popped in her mind. “Why don’t I hire you? Didn’t you do the bookkeeping for Dad’s business when he was alive?”
Her mother nodded. “Yes, but with all these Internet resources, why would you need me?”
“I know less than nothing about accounting, and you do, Mom,” she replied. “Besides, I think it’ll be good for me to have a partner – like a personal assistant. I can probably afford to pay you, too. What do you say?”
“I’d never accept a salary from my own daughter,” Miriam had stated. “But I’d love to help out. What else does a woman my age have to do? Being involved with your business will bring a fine and exciting, new purpose to my life.”
Sonia’s eyes shone with happiness. “Let’s shake on it then.”
Sonia and her mom had celebrated their partnership by meeting for a fancy brunch the following Sunday, complete with mimosas and Eggs Benedict, at the restaurant where David had proposed to her.
Although Miriam had feigned ignorance about dealing with the Internet, she installed an Excel file system on Sonia’s computer to calculate her daughter’s expenses and income.
“You’re not charging enough, honey,” her mom had told her. “Look at this cost analysis. I’ve listed the bills of running your website, and multiplied the hours you spend at the computer marketing. Plus, you have to consider the time it takes for you to photograph outside of the house. If you really want to get crazy, figure in gas for the car, plus wear and tear on it, stuff like that.”
Her mom’s expertise for bookkeeping summoned Sonia’s gratitude and she smiled. “Yeah, you’re right. I never gave the time spent actually marketing or creating the memes monetary thought. It’s so fun. Are you saying I should draw a salary?”
Miriam laughed. “No, I guess not,” she replied shaking her head at the file of expenses versus the business’s income. “At least you’ll be able to take a loss on Sparkles of the Season for this year.”
“Among other losses,” she’d replied with a sigh.
***
Sonia was an avid football fan, and favored the Jersey Giants, but she’d been so busy with work at the beginning of the season, she hadn’t taken the time to watch a game until the business showed signs of slowing down.
“I’m not going to work on Sundays anymore,” she told her mom during their next Sunday brunch, which had become a regular event.
Miriam also liked football, but rooted for one of the Jersey Giant’s rivals. “They are my home town team after all,” she stated, after mother and daughter got into a pretend argument of which was the better team.
“Who cares about those Cowflops?” Sonia had asked her with a mock frown. “My team has more worries. Did you know our field goal kicker’s out for the season?”
Sonia’s mom nodded with a grim expression. “Yes, I heard about it on the sports network. That really stinks.”
“Well, I guess that’s not my worry,” she replied. “I’m far more interested in trying to focus on reality. Like mine.”
Miriam clasped her daughter’s hands and gave them a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “You actually looked happy today,” she said. “Before we talked football.”
Sonia met her mother’s eyes and hesitated. “I’m – happier,” she admitted. “Do you think David and his parents, and Dad, too, are watching us from Heaven?”
“Absolutely,” Miriam said. “I believe our loved ones are always with us. Did something else happen to erase the sorrow and put that shine on your face?”
Sonia nodded with a smile. “Yeah, I guess you could say so. One of the messages I found in my email today was from the Chamber of Commerce.”
“Really?”
Sonia nodded, an excited glint in her eyes. “Yes. Almost all of my clients have already published their Christmas stories, like I’ve mentioned, so my work will slow down for a while. There is something else I can do in the meantime, though,” she shared.
Miriam leaned forward. “So, what do you plan on doing?”
“The committee asked me if I’d be interested in taking photos of the children with Santa Claus during the town’s annual Christmas event,” Sonia told her. “The pay’s not much, but I think it’ll be a fun way to spend my time, until business picks up after the holidays. My clients won’t start preparing to upload their Valentine’s Day novels until after the holiday season. But, that’s not the best part.”
Miriam held her breath. “Well, don’t keep me in suspense, darling. Go on.”
“The Chamber of Commerce also wants me to submit some meme borders to use for the Santa pictures they take at town hall, too. Most of the members have seen my photography and commented favorably on my pictures. If they pick one of my borders, maybe my website will go viral!”
Chapter Six
October 2018: Just Lars
Lars leaned on his cane as he waited for his father Adam to arrive at the luggage turntable at Newark International Airport, with his precious cargo in tow.
It had been three months since Lars had last seen Jeff in person. “Damn, but I’ve missed that kid,” he muttered aloud as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him.
The battle between his attorney and Julia’s to gain permission for the trip was tough, but worth the wait. With the divorce finalized via emails back and forth between the attorneys because of his inability to travel, his ex-wife finally decided to travel to the Caribbean with her new boyfriend for an undetermined amount of time.
Thus, Lars’s custody concerns pretty much settled themselves.
“Daddy! Hey, Daddy, I’m here,” he heard his son yell from the crowd.
Lars wanted to sprint down the
ramp to greet his son, but running wasn’t an option. The walking boot on his right foot not only prevented such a foolish endeavor, but his medical aid Donald, recently on loan from the team to accompany Lars to his appointments and such, had stilled him with a firm hand on his arm.
“Don’t do anything foolish,” Donald told him. “I know you’re anxious to see your son, but let the boy come to you.”
Lars nodded. “Once my father’s here, you’re free to leave, not that I don’t appreciate you helping me out today,” he said. “I promise not to over extend myself. Playing football again is second on my list of priorities, after Jeff’s welfare.”
He spied his father approaching from a football field away, and waved. “Dad! I’m over here!”
Lars watched Adam Whitney gather Jeff into his arms and place him on his shoulders, so the child could find his father over the sea of people leaving the gate – and his eyes filled with the sweetness of their reunion.
Donald and Lars shook hands before he left, but Lars’s focus was on his family finally standing before him. Adam took the boy from his shoulders, and then gently placed him into the crook of his daddy’s waiting arm.
Lars bore his weight on his good foot and hugged Jeff with one arm as hard as he dared. When he put the child down and steadied himself with the cane, he shot his son a huge grin. “Holy cow, big guy, I swear you’ve grown at least three inches since last I’ve seen you,” he said while his free hand stroked the boy’s blonde curls. “What has your mother been feeding you?”
“Junk food mostly,” Jeff replied with that mischievous smile only a kid can get away with.
“Guess we’ll have to see about getting you some decent protein into you,” Lars replied. “Let me see your muscles.”
Jeff proudly flexed both arms. “I’m working on them,” he declared.