“By the by, good call on Chinese food. I feel like it’s a universal peace-offering type of food.”
“Baby, I love when your Minnesotaness comes out,” Stormi teased, pulling me onto the couch.
“You do know that is not a word, missy.”
“It is. I’ve coined the term. Webster is even considering it for their next addition to the dictionary.”
I smacked her ass lightly as she climbed onto the cushion next to me. “Whatever you say, punk.”
Sticking her tongue out, Stormi giggled. “But I’m your punk.”
“And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
After about an hour, Jacob finally emerged from his room.
“Mr. Bennett?” His head was down as he shuffled into the living room.
“You can call me Cason, if you’d like. What’s up?” I shoved up from the couch.
“Um, Ca-Cason…would it be all right if we ordered dinner now?”
Stormi leapt to her feet, rushing over with the menu. “Of course! Pick out what you’d like and I’ll give them a call. They’re usually pretty fast with deliveries.”
Without even looking at the menu, Jacob sheepishly glanced at her. “May I please have chicken lo mein?”
“Coming right up.” Stormi walked into the kitchen to place the order.
I didn’t know what to say to the kid. I just stood there uncomfortably for far too long with my hands in my pockets.
“Did you get your homework done?” I finally spit out.
“Yes, sir.”
“Want to watch something while we wait for dinner?” Television: the best way to avoid uncomfortable small talk.
“I like A Series of Unfortunate Events. It’s on Netflix.”
A full sentence about something he enjoys—progress. Baby steps.
“On it.” I grabbed the remote and cued up the show on a profile I had set up for Jacob before his arrival. It was weird, but I felt like I needed to give some kind of olive branch, and his own profile on my Netflix account seemed like a decent start.
He found the next episode he hadn’t seen yet. Just as the show was about to begin, he paused it. “Would you like me to start it from the beginning so you’re not lost?”
My heart melted.
“That is very nice of you, Jacob. I would appreciate that a lot.” And there was his olive branch.
He flipped to the first episode and we took seats on opposite sides of the couch. I was surprised how good the show was.
Stormi started to walk in then stopped. I patted the cushion next to me, but she just smiled and waved me off as she mouthed, “Bond a little.”
I watched as my wife grabbed her laptop and made her way into our bedroom.
Chapter 7
Stormi
Just when I was starting to feel comfortable and had finally gotten into a groove writing my next article, the doorbell chimed. My stomach grumbled as I made my way to the foyer where Cason was already paying the delivery man.
“How’s it going?” I asked under my breath, taking one of the bags of food from my husband.
The grin that spread across his face warmed my heart. “Really well, I think. I mean, it’s night one. We’ll see how the rest of the weekend goes.”
“Jacob, want to come to the table after you wash your hands?” I called into the living room.
Without protest, he marched to the kitchen sink, scrubbed his hands better than most adults, and took a seat at the dining room table.
“Thank you for getting me dinner,” he stated as he scooted his chair in.
I was astonished at how polite he was for a tween. I had heard countless horror stories and was more nervous about having him in our home than I cared to admit, but from the jump, I was more than impressed with the little man he seemed to be.
I set the table with plates, forks, and chopsticks.
“What would you like to drink? Pop? Water? Juice?” Cason asked, standing in front of the open fridge.
“What’s pop?” Jacob queried, and I about died a thousand deaths from trying to hold in my laughter.
“That’s what Cason calls soda because he’s from Minnesota and they’re weird up there,” I teased, glancing over at my husband, who was now pouting. “We have ginger ale and Coke, if either of those work for you.”
“Ginger ale, please.”
Once we were all settled with our respective meals dished out, the awkwardness of the silence was driving me up a wall. Typically, in situations like that, I would ramble until the cows came home, but I was afraid of scaring the kid before he had a chance to get to know us.
Finally, Jacob spoke. “This is very good.”
“Do you eat Chinese food a lot?” The simplicity of the question seemed dumb, but it was a start.
He shook his head. “Not really.”
“Well then, I’m glad we could do this tonight. Maybe we could make it our Friday night tradition.” I smiled over at him as he returned the gesture.
“I would like that.”
“Is everything all right with your room?” Cason barely swallowed his food before talking.
“It’s very nice, and bigger than my one at home.”
For some reason, Jacob talking about his home was jarring to me. Of course he had a home with his mother; I knew that, but the concept was just so foreign. Everything about this was. It hit me hard that we really knew nothing about him or his real life. I didn’t even know if he had a bedtime or if any twelve-year-olds had bedtimes. Suddenly, I felt utterly unequipped to be caring for Jacob properly. Why didn’t his mother feed him Chinese food? Did he have some allergy we needed to be aware of? Is Chinese food not all right for growing boys?
Get a grip, Stormi.
“What homework were you working on?” I felt like we were giving him the third degree, but how else were we supposed to get to know the kid?
“I have a history test on Monday. It’s going to be on ancient Greece and Rome. I was just reading over the chapters again.” Jacob beamed a little. It was apparent that he was proud of himself, and I was too.
“Do you like school?” I continued.
Cason smirked at me as he watched Jacob and me going back and forth a bit.
“I do. My teachers are nice this year.”
Once dinner was over, Jacob helped Cason do the dishes.
“So, kid…” I overheard Cason break the silence again from my eavesdropping perch on the couch where I was pretending to read. “What time do you usually hit the sack?”
“Around now,” Jacob replied as I checked my watch. It was ten, which felt late for a twelve-year-old, but what did I know?
I ambled into the kitchen. “How about I finish up in here and Cason shows you how to work the shower in your bathroom. Sometimes the hot water is a little tricky.”
“Good idea, babe.”
Cason led Jacob out of the room, and I put on some yellow gloves to scrub my General Tso’s from the porcelain.
Within a few minutes, my stud of a husband came waltzing back in. “I have to say, he is pretty all right.”
“It’s that Bennett blood,” I replied, baiting him as I threw my gloves under the sink.
“Hey now, that’s my line.” Cason fumbled with his phone until “Wild Horses” started to play. I couldn’t help the smile that came to my face as he grabbed my hands. “Dance with me, baby.”
“I thought you’d never ask.” I pressed my cheek into his chest as we shuffled in a small circle in our closet-sized kitchen.
“You’re perfect,” Cason whispered as the song came to an end.
“Only for you.”
“Okay, you seriously can never ever wait this long to tell me something this major again,” Cierra scolded over the phone as I sat on the balcony.
“You haven’t been returning my calls,” I complained.
“This is one of those times where an urgent text is in order,” she barked. “I mean, Cason has a long-lost son and he is living with you? How are you even dealing
with this?”
I curled up under my blanket. “I don’t know if I’ve really wrapped my head around it yet. He’s only been here for one night.”
“What is he doing right now?”
“Cason and Jacob are still sleeping.”
Cierra yawned. “Which is what I should be doing.”
“Hey, you’re the one who answered your phone at six in the morning. I didn’t have anyone else to call about this.”
“I have to be up soon anyway. Work is crazy.”
“Isn’t it better to wake up to shocking news than a squawking alarm?”
“When the news is this juicy, of course.”
“What do you think? Are we insane for doing this?” I needed her opinion; Cierra was always a needed source of reason for me.
“Honestly, you two are fucking cracked out of your skulls for doing this, but what other choice did you have? It’s not like you can just turn your back on this kid.”
“You’re right.”
“I always am, sis. Okay, I have to hop in the shower or I’m going to be so late.”
I yawned quickly. “Fine. I love you.”
“Love you, too. Keep me posted.”
“Will do.”
I shoved my phone into my jacket pocket as I looked out onto the bustling city streets. I didn’t care how crazy we were being; we were doing the right thing, and that was all that truly mattered.
Chapter 8
Cason
A week later
First week down.
We had fallen into a decent routine. Even with Stormi being away for a few days, everything seemed to be going smoothly.
I met Jacob out front at his school to walk him home like I had done every day that week. He rushed up to me, excitement radiating from him.
“What’s up, bud?” I asked as I took his heavy book bag from him.
“I aced my history test!” He beamed with pride as he showed me the page with a giant red 100% scrawled across the top.
“Way to go!” We high-fived before making the short trek to the apartment.
“Cason?” Jacob sheepishly bowed his head.
“Yes?”
“Why do you limp?” The query took me by surprise. I knew it was noticeable, but it wasn’t something I really thought about anymore.
“Well, I was on the New York Otters for a brief time, and I got hurt during a game.”
“You were a hockey player?” Jacob’s eyes widened.
“Sure was. That’s why I’m a recruiter for the team.”
“What does that mean?”
“I help the team pick out the players they’re going to ask to join the team. I get to go to colleges and high schools, watch the guys play, and then report back to the higher-ups which players I think would be a good fit for the positions they need filled for the next season,” I explained.
“That sounds like a lot of fun.”
“It is, kid. Maybe one of these days I can take you with me.”
“That would be amazing.”
“Seems like you and Stormi have really made this into a nice home for Jacob.” Cindy sipped her tea while sitting at the dining room table with me.
“We’re trying. He is a really great kid.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I am so pleased this has worked out. I do need to tell you Natty Fitton was released on bond yesterday. Depending on how everything goes, Jacob could be going home sooner than anticipated.” Cindy’s face was soft as she put her hand on mine. “I know it’s easy to get attached to children in situations like this, but we did know this arrangement was most likely temporary.”
“Will I still get to see him? I mean, he is my son, after all.” I couldn’t hide my disappointment. I had really grown fond of the little guy.
“We will have to work all that out when the time comes. I do think your case for visitation is strong since he seems so comfortable with you already.”
Visitation? Is that all my relationship with my son will be reduced to?
“I guess that’s a bridge to cross when we come to it.”
She pursed her lips. “Precisely. Mind if I say goodbye to Jacob before I head out?”
“Be my guest.” I led Cindy to his room, where he was nose deep in his history book again.
“It was nice seeing you again, Jacob.” Cindy waved as he glanced up.
“Thank you for checking on me.”
“Of course, sweetie. Good luck studying.”
Cindy followed as we walked to the front door. “Bravo, Cason. You have taken to fatherhood nicely.”
“I appreciate that.”
I heard Jacob come up behind me as I locked the door.
“Cason?”
“What’s up?” I turned to him.
“Can I call you Dad?”
There it was—the tug on my last heartstring that wasn’t already wrapped around the boy’s finger.
“You can call me Dad if you’re comfortable with that.”
“I think it would be nice. Do you think Stormi will mind if I still call her Stormi since I already have a mom?”
“She won’t mind at all. You can call her Stormi because that’s who she is to you. You know we’re not trying to replace your mom or your family, right? We’re just adding to your family.” I got down on his level to make sure he was really hearing what I was saying.
Throwing his arms around my neck, he hugged me for the first time. “Thank you.”
I was a puddle of melted mushy goo as I hugged him back tightly. “Don’t mention it, kid.”
Chapter 9
Cason
Stormi’s hand flew to her chest as she gushed over FaceTime. “He hugged you and asked to call you Dad? I don’t think my heart can take this.”
“It was a pretty great moment.” I shifted in bed with my laptop resting on a pillow. “What time are you coming home tomorrow?”
“I don’t know if I am. I might have scored an interview with Patric Hörnqvist for the morning. If it runs long, I won’t be able to get on a train until Sunday morning.”
“Babe, you know I’m supposed to leave Sunday night to scout some kids in Ontario.” My brain started to race.
“I’ll cancel the interview. I totally forgot. I’ll be home tomorrow no matter what.”
I shook my head. “No. We’re going to make this work. I will switch my flight to the red eye. As long as I’m in Canada by Monday morning, everything will be fine.”
“Are you sure?” The furrow in her brow said it all.
“I am one thousand percent sure everything will be fine.”
Right then, the doorbell rang. “
Babe, I’m going to have to call you back.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, probably someone going to the wrong unit again.”
“All right. Love you!”
“Love you, too.”
I closed the computer as a loud banging started.
Shirtless, wearing only my sleeping pants, I ripped the front door open to be greeted by a face I hadn’t seen in over a decade.
“Where is he?” Natty yelled, trying to shove past me.
Grabbing her arm, I pulled her into the hallway.
“He’s sleeping.” I didn’t let her go as she struggled.
“Jacob!” she called through the shut door.
“Keep your voice down. Natty, you’re not supposed to be here.”
“No one is going to keep my son from me.” The smell of alcohol wafted off her breath as I took a good look at her dilated pupils.
“Natty, you have three seconds before I call the cops. Neither one of us wants that to happen. You’re not getting into my apartment or seeing Jacob while you’re drunk and on whatever else you’re on.”
She struggled more. “Fuck you, Cason. I am not on anything but the pain meds the doctor gave me after my accident.”
“Drinking on top of those is not good,” I said, trying to reason with her.
She wouldn’t stop, continuing to scre
am for Jacob.
“You’ve given me no choice.” I whipped out my cell from my pocket and dialed 9-1-1. “Yes, I would like to report a disturbance. My son’s mother has shown up at my home, clearly intoxicated, and is causing a scene with my child sleeping inside. She is refusing to leave the premises and is clearly in no shape to be in the presence of my son.”
“He’s my son!” she growled in my face.
“I will send a unit to your location, sir.”
“Thank you.”
Natty tried to bite my hand.
“Don’t add assault to your rap sheet. Don’t you want to get Jacob back?”
“What do you think I’m trying to do? You fucking bastard.” She jabbed her knee right into the side of my bad knee, sending me crashing to the ground.
“You fucking bitch!” I lost it. Scrambling to my feet, I hobbled into my apartment after her.
“Jacob!” she bellowed again.
“Mom?” Jacob’s sleepy eyes strained to focus.
“Baby, get your things. We’re leaving.” She grabbed his hand as she swayed from side to side.
“But, I’m not ready to go.” He pulled away from his mother as she started to plead.
“Don’t you want to go home? I’m taking care of everything. We can go home.”
My heart was breaking as Jacob fought to be a good son to both of us.
“I like it here with Dad.”
“Dad? You’re calling this piece of dog shit who was never there for you your entire life Dad now?” She turned to me, an evil sneer contorting her face. “Who the fuck do you think you are turning my kid against me? You’re nothing more than a sperm donor.”
“Natty, you’re not yourself right now. Jacob, she doesn’t mean any of this. Your mom just doesn’t feel well right now.”
“Don’t tell my son what I do or do not mean! Jacob, we’re leaving.” She grabbed his hand, trying to drag him to the door.
For You, I Will: A Shots on Goal Spinoff (Shots On Goal Standalone Book 7) Page 4