"And she… you’re not together?”
“She told me I don't have to be involved. That she can handle it on her own." The words taste bitter. I’m definitely not ready to tell my dad that she’s also my teammate's ex-wife. "She has ... she has had a lot of men let her down in the past.”
Dad nods slowly. "And how do you feel about a baby?”
"Terrified." The admission comes easier than I expected. "I'm a joke, Dad. I sell condoms on the side—condoms that clearly don't work very well. I party too hard, I travel half the year, I barely know how to take care of myself. How am I supposed to be a father?"
"Do you want to be involved?"
The question catches me off guard.
"Yes," I say without hesitation. “What kind of question is that? It’s my kid. But Sloane doesn't trust me. She thinks I'm going to be like her ex-husband—that I'll expect her to sacrifice everything while I keep living my life."
"Are you?"
"No! At least—" I stop, forcing myself to be honest. "I don't want to be. But I don't know how not to be, you know? I'm gone so damn much. How do I be an active father when I'm barely here?"
Dad leans back in his chair, and I can see him choosing his words carefully.
"You know your Uncle Tim practically raised us after your grandmother died, right?"
I nod. It's family lore—how Grandma Laurel died when Dad and his brothers were young, how Grandpa Ted spiraled, how Tim stepped up to hold everything together.
"What you don't know," Dad continues, "is how badly I repaid that sacrifice at first. Tim was working two jobs, trying to keep us fed and in school, making sure we had what we needed. And I thanked him by getting into fights. By being angry at the world. By making his life harder instead of easier."
“Yeah, but you got your shit together and then everything was fine.”
Dad laughs. “You think it was some switch that flipped on? You know, I started dating your mom while she was my lawyer, right? We both could have gotten into so much damn trouble.” He shakes his head. “Man, I was so irresponsible."
I've never heard this aspect of the story. Dad always talks about his playing days with pride, about his success in the league. Never about being stuck in the minors for fighting.
"What changed?"
“Your mom," he says simply. “Once I met her, I realized what I wanted my life to look like.” He turns to look at me. "Being a father isn't about your job or your reputation, Tucker. It's not about being perfect or having all the answers. It's about showing up. Every single day, in whatever way you can."
"But how do I show up when I'm on the road?"
"Same way I did. Same way, plenty of guys do. You make the time you do have count for everything." He pauses. "But Tucker, before you can show up for this baby, you need to show up for Sloane. You need to prove to her that you're not going to be another man who takes her choices away."
The words hit hard because they're precisely what Sloane said. That she can't have another man dictate her life.
"I don't know how to do that."
"Yes, you do." Dad's voice is firm. "You do it by listening more than you talk. By asking what she needs instead of assuming you know. By being patient when she pushes you away, because she will push you away. She's protecting herself, and she has every right to."
"What if she never trusts me?"
"Then you keep proving you're trustworthy anyway. Because that's what we do in this family.” He stands, putting a hand on my shoulder. "You can become the man you need to be, Tucker. But you have to prove it through actions, not words. Words are easy. Anyone can make promises. It's the showing up that matters."
I nod, throat tight.
"Does anyone else know?" I shake my head. Dad’s brows shoot up. “Not even Alder?”
I swallow. “Sloane said she needs time to process. I'm not telling anyone else until she's ready."
Dad squeezes my shoulder. "Good. That's the right instinct. Respect her timeline, not yours."
I wince. “You’re not going to tell Mom? Or the family?”
