Page 17 of He Has Santa (Boston Brawlers Hockey)
CHAPTER8
JUNIE
That night, I sit with my mother on the couch in the family room. Nicky is in her pajamas, ready for bed. She’s already regaled mom and dad all through dinner with the disjointed yet enthusiastic story of our afternoon skating excursion. She leaps onto the couch between us, and I’m surprised she has any energy left at all.
Dad snores as he sits back in his recliner. It’s clear Nicky is still wound up from the day, and I can’t help catching some of her enthusiasm about going to the Brawlers game tomorrow—in the form of buzzing nerves like I’ve just chugged a cup of espresso.
“I want to stay for the whole game, Mommy. Pleeease?”
“It’s a school night, Missy. We leave after the first period. It’ll be late by the time we get home as it is. You’d probably fall asleep in the third period anyway.”
“No way. I want to stay and see Uncle Logan after the game.”
It disturbs me every time Nicky calls her father, Uncle. Mom eyes me, and I know she’s wondering when I’m going to put a stop to it. When it looks like Mom’s going to say something, I put a hand on her arm, silently begging her not to.
I don’t know how much longer I can take it, but it’s something Logan and I need to do together. We need to tell Nicky before it’s too late. I don’t want her to feel betrayed or like we lied or hid it from her.
What the hell am I thinking?Of course, she’s going to know I hid it from her all this time. Maybe not right away because the circumstances are way too complicated a thing to explain to a six-year-old. Even a smart, cagey one. But eventually, she’ll know.
But right now, what am I going to say?I was pregnant before I married your dad David and didn’t know it and … and what?Logan is your real father? What does real father mean to a six-year-old? David was the only father she ever knew. And if I say Logan is her biological father, that will mean shit to her. She knows nothing of the birds and the bees, and I need to keep it that way for a few more years.
“Stop wringing your hands,” my mother says. I don’t even know I’m doing it, but of course, I am. I throw them up in the air as I’m about to resign myself to putting my foot down with Nicky, to shut down her argument to stay for the whole game, my phone rings. Nicky snatches it from the side table and hands it to me.
“Is it— “
“Yes.” I cut her off before she can repeat Uncle Logan so that I don’t have to hear it like a constant reprimand.
“Hello, Logan.” I lift Nicky aside and stand, walking towards my bedroom for privacy. When Nicky tries to follow, mom runs interference, engaging her with a question about her team’s record and keeping Nicky with her. I mouth thank you to mom and disappear down the hall. Logan’s deep throaty voice makes me shiver, and I lean against the wall, picturing him, though I shouldn’t because he’s too mouthwatering, and I’m too starving for what he has.
“We’re on for tomorrow?”
“Yes.” I hesitate, but I have to tell him. “We’re staying for the first period, and then we have to leave because—”
“You can’t do that. You and Nicky need to wait for me after the game. I’ll drive you home.”
“It’s a school night.” My logic is irrefutable, so I’m surprised when he doesn’t accept it.
“Junie, I want to spend a little time with her. Let her stay so we get some bonding time, and I can see how she reacts to me in my work environment.”
“Yourworkenvironment?” I don’t know what to react to first, but that was the smallest issue. He called me Junie, and that always melts me—still. I bolster myself against it.
“You want to keep her up on a school night so you can show off?” My voice rises.
“Junie—”
“I don’t want to argue. I have to put Nicky to bed now.” I end the call like the chicken shit I am because I don’t know if I can hold out against him and I need to keep Nicky’s needs front and center. I see my mother heading in my direction, a knowing look on her face. She must have overheard my conversation.
“If you don’t want Nicky to stay up late, why don’t you go without her this time?” Mom says, joining me in the hall.
It’s the last thing I expect to hear from her. It makes no sense. The idea shouldn’t excite me, but it does, and I squash it down.
“Why would I do that?” It’s a rhetorical question, but she surprises me again when she answers.
“I can see how sad you are-- and how excited you are at the same time about Logan.”
“I always thought you and dad weren’t very crazy about him.”
“No, it wasn’t that, June. We weren’t crazy that you two were so serious at such a young age. He had such a hold on you, and he was so damn serious and intense.”
