“Does this mean you’re going to start calling me daddy?” The question popped into my mind, and now seems the best time to ask. Laura spits the water out of her mouth, and her cheeks turn bright red. Josh, Char- lotte, Laura, and I are eating donuts in their living room.
“Alright, that’s my cue,” Josh says laughing, “I will see you all later. I’ve got some errands to run.”
“Bye, Joshikins!” Charlotte coos in a baby-talk voice.
Turning her attention back to us, Charlotte answers my question for Lu. “I think it’s a great idea, honestly. An honorable name.”
“Are you ever helpful?” Lu whips a pillow at her.
Turning her embarrassed face to me, she adds. “I am not calling you daddy.”
I shrug. “We’ll see.”
Her hand smacks her face, and she sighs, mumbling, “Oh, my god.”
“Mom?” Jack asks as he descends the stairs, his footsteps seemingly heavy for such a small human.
“What’s up, buddy?” Laura asks, her full attention drifting to him so naturally. But I guess she’s not the newbie here when it comes to parenting.
“Cuddle?” He asks so innocently, and it’s the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.
She fluffs her blanket up and opens her arms for him. He walks through the living room with half-closed, sleepy eyes, passing Charlotte and me without a glance, and falls into Laura’s lap. He curls up, and she encases the blanket around him.
“Always.” I hear her whisper to him. Within a minute, he is fast asleep in her arms, his snores filling the living room.
Laura wiggles her foot to grab my attention before whispering, “He gets this from you.”
I gasp mockingly, “I do not snore.”
Charlotte scoffs, “Sure you don’t.”
I have always been a serial snorer, but it never bothers my sleep. I never noticed until Costy pointed it out when we lived together our rookie year. I could sit in this spot forever, watching Lu hold him while he’s fast asleep. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Laura must feel me staring because she looks up and meets my eyes. A full smile breaks across her face, and my heart fucking skips a beat. A few moments pass, yet neither of us averts our gaze. We’re magnetic; we always have been. This dynamic may be new between us, but our souls are old friends. We understand each other in a way no one else does or possibly can. We were fucking made for each other.
“Well, this is fun,” Charlotte reminds us that she’s here too, which in all fairness, I completely forgot she was even in the room.
Butterflies form in my stomach at the question I have been dying to ask Laura, “Do you think it would be okay if I took Jack skating today?”
Her bottom lip falls ever so slightly, and her eyes fill with warmth. “I think that’d be great. I know he would love it.”
My heart bursts. I didn’t know how much I needed her to say yes and have one-on-one time with Jack. But I’m desperate for it, to get to know him. I missed out on a large chunk of his life, but I don’t want to miss a second more than I have to. I figured taking him skating would be a good boy’s day for the both of us. God knows I could never get enough ice time.
Laura drops Jack and me off for obvious reasons; I can’t take a kid on my motorcycle. Well, I mean, I could but not really the best impression I’m trying to give Lu with the trust she’s giving me. Walking into the rink with Jack at my side has me feeling pride like I’ve never known. I want to shout to everyone; this is my son! This one! He’s my son! But I remain quiet to the strangers in the rink and give Jack my undivided attention instead.
“Did you have fun skating the other day?” I ask him as we approach the bleachers to put our skates on.
He hops onto the bottom row, his legs dangling off the edge. “Yeah! I had a blast!”
My eyes stay glued to him as I drop to my knees and pull his sneakers off. “Good! You should always have fun every time you’re on the ice. That’s the most important part of hockey.”
He looks so much like me; I can’t believe the guys didn’t see it when they first met him. He has my nose, lips, chin, hair, and eyes. He’s practically a mini-me. Laughing to myself, I bet that drives Laura absolutely insane.
“I want to be as good as you one day,” Jack hums.
Grabbing one of his skates, I slide it on his foot and lace him up. As I scoff, my fingers move through the motions and add, “Are you kidding? You’ll be better than me in no time.”
His smile beams on his face, his eyes squinting like mine when I smile. The love I have for hockey is nothing compared to the love I have for this little boy.
“Yeah, maybe,” he says honestly, and I hold in a chuckle at his confidence.
He’s got to believe it if he wants to get good at hockey. Confidence is key. You can’t hesitate in anything you do. You hold back on a pass; the puck will get swiped from you. You have to think that you are the best competitor on the ice or the person you think is better than you will win.
I finish lacing up his other skate and quickly slip mine on while Jack asks questions about hockey which I am more than happy to answer. It’s hard to walk in skates for beginners, so I offer him my hand. His fingers feel so small as they glide between mine.
Helping him keep his balance, I guide him toward the open board door and lift him over the small barrier. He wobbles for a second as I set him down, but within a moment, he is inching forward. I watch him for a moment to see how he moves on the ice. I bite my cheek to contain my smile. His arms are completely out to his side, straight as a pencil. We’ll have to work on that, but it’s okay for now if it’s helping him. He pushes forward slightly and glides through the motion, repeating it with the other leg. Not bad at all, but I see he gets another thing from me. I was worried Jack might be disappointed in me today.
“That’s really good, buddy!” I boast as I skate back- ward to face him.
“Thanks,” he says sharply with complete focus.
His steps are too quick, and he’s forcing himself forward before the motion is complete.
“Take more time with each foot. Let yourself glide through your stride,” I instruct him, trying to keep my voice light and encouraging.
“Like this?” He asks and executes perfectly.
In awe, I clap, “Yes, exactly like that! Doesn’t that feel better?”
He nods and sticks his tongue out through the side of his mouth, a focused face if I’ve ever seen one, and continues to skate forward, better and better form with every second. He’ll have to practice this daily to keep building his skill, but he’s a real natural so far. Now we just need to get a twig in his hand.
We continue moving slowly around the rink, and I see Jack lose his balance. In the blink of an eye, I debate whether or not I should catch him. He needs to learn that you will constantly fall in hockey; it’s part of the game. However, I also want to baby him and show him that I’m here for him. I choose the latter. He has time to learn that hockey is brutal and life is the same. But I want him to know that I will always be there to catch him.
The second his leg goes out from under him, my hand is flush against his chest, holding him up.
“Oops,” he says, giggling.
“It’s okay. I still lose my balance sometimes,” I honestly admit it happens to the best of skaters.
He nods and smiles, “Really? You fall?”
“Oh god yeah, like a fuck- oh shit, oh dam—” I slam my mouth over my hand. “I’m sorry, buddy. I shouldn’t use those words around you.”
He shrugs like it’s not the first time he’s heard them. “It’s okay. Uncle Josh plays music with those words all the time. He even lets me sing them sometimes too.”
Alright then. I don’t know how to feel about that, but as long as he knows when and where they are appropriate, I suppose I don’t mind.
“I was going to say that I fall like a sack of potatoes on the ice.”
That makes him laugh, and I want to cause that reaction again and again. It’s addicting.
“Try again. Let’s go,” I tell him, and he does exactly that. Like before, he skates toward me, and I move backward, ready to be there if he needs my help.
“I wish my friend, Erick, were here. He’s going to play hockey too!” He says with exuberant excitement.
“Oh, really? Is Erick your best friend?” I inquire, begging to know everything he’ll share with me.
He nods and focuses on his strides as he says, “Yeah. Some people in class make fun of us. They call him my boyfriend. My teacher and mom got into a fight about it.”
“Oh really?” I do my best to contain my bubbling laughter, curious about how that teacher made it out alive.
“Yeah. I don’t think Mom knew I was listening. But I had my listening ears turned on.” I chuckle to myself. “The teacher doesn’t like how close Erick and I are. She told Mom that I need more mask-cuisinity in my life.”
M-a-s-k-c-u-i-s-i-n-i-t-y?
“Oh, do you mean masculinity?”
“Yeah, whatever that means, Mom didn’t like it. But I hate how everyone always picks on us. We just hold hands sometimes and hug. What’s so bad about that?” He says, and I wish I could drop-kick those little fucks for making him feel this way.
It seems a little young to throw labels around and be complete dicks at that age, but I’m not surprised. I think it’s ironic for people to hate that Jack could have a little “boyfriend.” It’s no different than a grandparent jokingly asking if the girl that their five-year-old grandson is friends with is their girlfriend. People do it all the time to little kids. But it only becomes an issue if it’s two girls or two boys. Get the fuck over it already.
Grabbing his shoulders, I stop him and make sure he stays on his feet. He looks straight up at me, confused. “Absolutely nothing is wrong with that, Jack. I love you just the way you are. Your mom loves you just the way you are. Who cares what they think? Your own opinion is the most important one.” I assure him, and he seems to absorb my words like a sponge.
“Yeah. I think you’re perfect too.” He says with complete honesty and a straight face.
Kids are always brutally honest. So, when your son calls you perfect for the first time, you lock that memory in to revisit over and over.
“Thanks, buddy. That means a lot.” I smile at him, and we return to skating, my love for it growing now that I get to do it with him.
