by Caisey Quinn
Deb offers me something to drink, but I tell her I’m good. Once I’ve reported in nearly every minute of my time with Christian, I put in my request.
“Do you think he could go to Vancouver with me next weekend? I have a tournament and I don’t want to miss my weekend. My mom and Corin are both coming so they can care for him while I’m working. I’d love for him to get to come to the game.”
I can see the “no” in Deb’s eyes before she says it out loud.
“I know it’s a lot to ask,” I rush on, “but I can call you regularly to check in, we can video chat so you can see that he’s okay, and—”
“Skylar—”
“Deb, please. I’m begging. Tell me what I can do to prove to you that I am not going to let anything bad happen to him. I’ll do it.”
She sighs and rubs her temples. “Let me think about it and talk to Jack, okay? I’ll let you know something soon.”
It’s not a yes, but it’s not a no either. I nod.
“Thank you. For considering it at least. I appreciate that.”
When Deb calls me a week later, I’m nearly positive it’s to tell me I can take Christian to Vancouver over her cold, dead body.
And then she goes and surprises the hell out of me.
I’m leaving a promotional event for the energy drink that contributes a great deal to the team when she calls. Walking to my car, I brace myself for an argument.
“Skylar…Jack and I have been talking. A lot.” There is a strange sounding resignation in her voice. “As you know, parenting was never something that came natural to Fallon’s dad…and for many years all either of us could see was the importance of growing our business.”
I nod as if she can see me then roll my eyes at myself. “Yes ma’am. Fallon was open with me about her lack of a relationship with her dad and about her feelings of abandonment as a child.”
I don’t mean to be a dick, but it is what it is. I’m not going to sugarcoat anything for a woman who caused me to miss out on three years of my son’s life.
“Right. And she was justified in those feelings,” Deb relents. “But now, having Christian around, I guess I thought maybe he’d feel differently. But he didn’t and I spend most of my time alone.”
I don’t have a clue what she’s getting to or if she just wants sympathy or a listening ear so I remain silent.
“I haven’t been fair to you,” she admits. “I’ve been hoping you’d be a terrible father so that I could justify keeping Christian to myself. But that was wrong and I can’t deny the truth any longer.”
“The truth?”
I hear her audible intake of breath over the line. “You’re a good father. A great one. And considering the difficult circumstances you’ve been placed in, finding out overnight that you had a three-year old son, only getting to see him if you take time from work to fly across the country, and, well, dealing with me when I certainly haven’t been very accommodating…but none of that has deterred you.”
“And it never will,” I tell her honestly.
“He asks about you,” she says so low I can barely hear her. “After a couple days of not seeing you, he starts asking where his daddy is.”
My heart seizes in my chest. “Does he say that? He calls me daddy to you?”
There is a sniffle over the line. “He does.”
“So can I bring him out next weekend? Deb, I swear I meant what I said and I’ll check in as much as possible and—”
“That won’t be necessary, Skylar,” she says evenly, having regained her composure at record speed.
Fuck. I should’ve known. I slump into the driver’s seat, but she continues.
“It won’t be necessary because we aren’t going to fight your petition for custody. You are his father. You have proved yourself. As hard as it’s going to be for me to let go, it’s the right thing to do.”
I am officially speechless.
“Wait. What?” I need to hear her say it again, just to be sure I heard correctly.
“He’s your son, Skylar. You’re ready to be a full-time parent and I won’t stand in your way any longer.” Her voice lacks its normal edge. She’s tired. And sad.
But I could sprint home from this news alone.
“So, just to be clear, you’re giving me full custody of Christian? Not conditional visitation or—”
“Full custody.” There is maybe another sniffle or she’s clearing her throat, I can’t tell. “I just have one request.”
“Name it,” I say, because if she’s really going to give me custody of my son, no trial, no lawyers, no messy custody battle, then I will pretty much do whatever she asks.
“Please don’t cut me out of his life,” she pleads quietly. “If you’re in town and you feel like having lunch or if I can drop by and give him a birthday or Christmas gift now and then—I’d really appreciate that. I know I haven’t done right by you, Skylar, but please believe me when I say I love Christian very much.”
I breathe the largest sigh of relief I ever have. “I know you do, Deb. Like I told you before, I won’t cut you out. I promise.”
“Thank you, Skylar.” There is a long pause. “I’ll pack his things this week and you can come get him before your game this weekend. I’ll let the lawyers know to have the paperwork ready for you to sign as well.”
I could cry. Or do a victory dance. Or a motherfucking backflip.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Hang on, Christian. Daddy’s coming.
Two weeks later, after a trip to Vancouver and back, my parent’s throw a party for Christian that rivals every event I’ve seen in the Martin household.
There are animals, kids, inflatables, and I don’t even know what else in our back yard.
Between signing the necessary paperwork with the state and with my team, finding a house nearby to live in during the off-season, and taking care of Christian, Corin and I haven’t exactly had a ton of time alone.
I caught a few glimpses of her in passing while she refilled the food and lit the candles on Christian’s cake. It’s not his birthday for several more months, but this day will forever be what we’ve donned, Gotcha Day, because today it is official. I am my son’s sole legal guardian. My hope is that one day, Corin will be added to that paperwork when she becomes my wife. But with law school and her internship, it wouldn’t be right to add a wedding and an insta-family to her already hectic schedule. Not that I could keep her from Christian if I tried.
She tells me regularly that she could take me or leave me, but Christian she will love forever.
Poor girl. She probably has no idea she’s stuck with both of us for life.
The entire party sings a version of happy birthday, changing the words around, and Corin’s eyes meet mine over the chaos.
Something more than candlelight flickers in them but I’m too far away to identify it. Later, once Christian has opened more gifts than I know what to do with and guests begin to head out, I go on a search for my girl.
She’s not in the kitchen with my mom and sister. Not in the office my dad lets her borrow when she has work to deal with. And not in old bedroom upstairs.
I hear strange sobbing sounds coming from the bathroom across the hall.
I knock but there is no answer so I knock once more.
“Red? You in there, sweetheart?”
“Just a minute,” she says, her voice muffled through the thick door and what sounds like tears. “Be right out.”
Like hell.
I twist the locked knob until it gives.
Corin’s eyes are red-rimmed and she’s definitely wiping away the remnants of tears.
“Oh, babe,” I say, taking her into my arms. “What’s wrong?”
A sob wracks her body hard against mine. “It’s…it’s nothing. I’m fine.”
I pull back to look into her face. “Come on, baby. Don’t shut me out. Whatever it is, we will handle it.”
She looks at me strangely, like she’s embarrassed, b
efore handing over a long white stick. “It’s silly. I should be glad not blubbering like an idiot.”
My breath catches in my throat, but when I glance at the result it’s not what I expect.
Technology has come a long way because the thing literally says NOT PREGNANT in the little digital window.
“This is why you’re crying?” I tilt her chin up when she tries to look away.
“I was late,” she tells me, shrugging out of my arms and throwing the negative test in the garbage. “I was scared but in a way, kind of excited, I guess. I didn’t actually realize that I wanted it to be positive until it wasn’t.”
Corin wants to have my baby. Even after everything, after she’s had to juggle my crazy schedule with hers, had to become a sort of mom to a child she didn’t give birth to, all of the unexpected life changes and she’s never broken down once. Not in front of me at least. Not only that but she wants to have my baby. Mine. In her body. On purpose.
I am literally the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet.
“You look surprised,” she informs me. “You know I love Christian. Why wouldn’t you think I’d want to have more?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. I mean, yeah, you’re great with him and I…I guess maybe I was afraid you were in here crying because it’s a lot to deal with, me having full custody now. This wasn’t exactly the plan and I know I’m not exactly a star candidate for relationship goals now.”
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t underestimate me, soccer boy. Or yourself.” She leans on my chest. “Seeing you with him, I can’t explain it. You’re more than I ever imagined you could be. And I don’t mean that I didn’t think much of you before because you’ve always been this force to be reckoned with—bold and headstrong and not afraid to go after what you want. But in some ways, for all my preaching to Layla, I’ve always been a little afraid myself. Afraid of getting hurt, of not getting into law school, of not being enough. Until everything happened and I realized that while I may not fit anywhere else in the world, I belong here, with you and with Christian. And that gives me courage to try things I never thought I could.”
“Such as…”
“Such as having a baby. One day. This wouldn’t have been ideal timing. But one day, I would like to give Christian a brother or sister. If that’s okay with you.”
I scratch my chin thoughtfully as if I need to contemplate her proposition. “I suppose I could handle that.”
Corin smacks me lightly on the chest. “I should get this law degree first. Then we can revisit the possibility.”
I lean and kiss her softly. “Just so you know, one day, I plan to impregnate the hell out of you. Just sayin. But you’ve been so patient with my career and everything with Christian, I want you to know I support your dreams too, Red. You’re going to be the best damn child advocate ever.”
“Thanks, babe.”
We walk out of the bathroom together and rejoin what’s left of the party.
“Hey…” Corin begins, just before we step into the kitchen to help clean up. “Just, um, in case I forget to tell you…I’m really glad you were such a persistent pain in the ass when we first met.”
I grin. “While we’re being so open, I should tell you, I totally let you win at Mortal Combat all those times.”
Corin’s mouth drops open in mock horror. “Liar!”
I shrug. “It was the only way I could get you to keep spending time with me. A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.”
“Our entire relationship is built on lies, Skylar Martin. What are we going to do now?”
I pull her close against my chest and palm her ass with one hand. “We could build it on love. Or sex. You pick.”
“I’ll get back to you,” she tells me. “After our Mortal Combat rematch.”
Later, when all evidence of a major Martin bash has been cleared away and Christian is asleep for the night, Corin joins me in our bedroom.
“So what’d you pick?”
She bites her lip to buy some time. “Sex. I decided love is for suckers. I’m just going to use you for your body. That cool?”
I shake my head. “Nope. I have standards, you know. I’m going to need to draw a line. A friendship line, meaning no sex until I am absolutely positive you love me for me and not just for my body.”
Corin whacks me hard with a pillow. “Uh huh. You wouldn’t survive holding out on me.” To prove her point, she takes off her shirt. Then her bra. Somewhere, angels trumpet.
She’s right. I wouldn’t last five minutes. But I play along anyways because she’s smiling.
“Wanna bet?” I arch an eyebrow and she slides her jeans and black lace panties down her long, luscious legs.
Fuckkkk. My restraint is already wearing thin.
“No more bets, soccer boy.” She steps forward until she’s straddling me on the bed. “Besides, I already won the only bet that matters.”
I lean back to fully appreciate the view of her glorious naked body on top of me. “Which was?”
“You,” she informs me with a light kiss on the lips that holds the promise of much more to come. “I bet on you.”
“We’ll go to dinner after the ceremony to celebrate—anywhere you want,” Skylar tells me before my graduation ceremony. “I need to get Christian ready then we’ll head over early to get good seats.”
I did it. I finished law school and I’ve already been offered a position with the Children’s Advocacy Center of Los Angeles. Not only is it my dream job, but the Director is a soccer fan and is going to work with me on my caseload so I can spend part of the year on the road with Skylar. I could pinch myself. Sometimes I have to.
“Okay. Love you. Give little man a kiss for me and tell him I’ll spring for dessert after dinner if he can sit still through the ceremony.”
“Love you too, Red. See you tonight, counselor.”
I laugh as we hang up. Not only do I have one beautiful amazing man who loves me in my life. I have two.
The other one calls me mom—a title I never thought I’d be worthy of.
Christian Andrew Kensington-Martin is the smartest, sweetest, most adorable seven year-old I know. And I am honored that I get to be in his life.
I will never forget the first time he called me mom instead of Corwin, which was how he pronounced my name from the moment we met.
I’d been up late studying the night before and was exhausted. Christian was four and Kathryn and Katie both had the flu. Skylar had asked if Christian could stay with me during a tournament so he wouldn’t have to go on the long flight to the UK and of course I never said no to time with my favorite little guy. Nor did I want him flying to England with the flu going around even though the team had given Skylar a personal assistant that helped with Christian when needed.
So we were having breakfast and the most precious four-year-old in the entire universe looked at me and lifted his empty bowl of Lucky Charms and said “More, mama?”
My life changed in that instant. I went from exhausted to completely capable of running a dozen marathons back to back if necessary within seconds. He didn’t call Kathryn or Katie mom or mama, even though they spent nearly as much time with him as I did. They were Nana and Aunt Kay. Always.
He picked me.
As proud as I am that I finished law school in spite of everything going on in our chaotic lives, nothing compares to the feeling that swells in my chest every time Christian calls me mom.
Skylar was worried, thought I’d be overwhelmed or uncomfortable with it. But it felt right, even that very first time, and I told him so.
When he’s older, we’ll tell him about his birth mother. Maybe not the painful details, but enough so that he understands. I have her letter put away so that he can read it some day when he’s an adult, if he wants to. Sometimes I re-read it myself and it feels like I know her a little better each time.
I visit Fallon every now and then, stopping by the cemetery to update her on Christian and how he’s doing and to tell he
r that he’s perfect. I never got to know her and maybe I was never meant to, but I am grateful for what she left behind, grateful that she wrote to Skylar and told him the truth.
I like to think she’d approve of me being Christian’s mom. I hope she would be glad that he is healthy and happy and loved. I bought a collection of ceramic butterflies at an antique store years ago and I leave one at her marble stone each time I visit. Maybe I’ll stop coming when I run out. Or maybe I won’t. We probably never would have been friends, but I think we would’ve understood one another on a deeper level.
I arrive a few minutes late to the ceremony due to my latest trip to the cemetery. Fallon’s mom was there and we spoke briefly about Christian and she hugged me, which made me cry a little and thus I had to re-do my makeup. Watching her stand at her daughter’s gravestone I saw a woman who’d lived life full of regret and I felt sorry for her. And I vowed to call my own mother soon, because at the end of the day, she did the best she could with what she had.
I take my place in line just before the processional marches out into the auditorium. We move quickly through the pomp and circumstance and I find my guys in the crowd just before receiving my degree.
They aren’t hard to find. They’re right up front and when my name is called, everyone begins pointing at where Christian holds a bright white sign with bold red letters.
MARRY US, RED, it says.
Marry them I will.
I nod with tears in my eyes for the second time today. As I come off the stage, Christian runs into my arms. Skylar follows close behind and opens a small black box.
“It’s not a credit card,” he tells me with a wink before leaning in for a kiss that lingers a few seconds too long to be appropriate in front of an audience.
The ring is delicate and beautiful—a sizeable diamond shaped like a teardrop surrounded by fragments of smaller ones. It catches the overhead lights in every direction as he slides it on my finger. Landen gives Skylar some hell about taking a page out of his book as Layla hugs me tightly. Kathryn and Katie hug me to the point of suffocation. Even Skylar’s dad came and I smile as he shakes his son’s hand. Their relationship has changed a lot since Skylar became a father and his dad retired and became a grandpa, but it’s still a work in progress.