She never wanted to be a mother. I didn’t have plans on being a father, but when the nurse put Troy in my arms, everything changed. I didn’t want the lifestyle I was so used to living.
I didn’t want the jersey chasers like Missy in my son’s life.
“I miss him, Derek. You can understand that, right?”
I shake my head, crossing my arms. “No. Because I didn’t walk out on my son.”
Missy rolls her blue eyes at me. “It’s Christmas. Are you really not going to let me see him?”
“Daddy. Can we play hockey now?” Troy peeks his head out the door, and I hate the reaction it brings out in me.
Damn it. I wasn’t going to let Missy see him. But now she’s down on her knees and holding her arms out to him.
“Hi, sweetheart. Give your mom a hug.”
Troy slides behind me, holding on to my legs with his tiny arms.
Missy scoffs, standing up and turning a fiery look toward me. “You turned him against his own mother?”
“No, Missy. He doesn’t know you.” I reach behind me and squeeze Troy’s shoulder. “He hasn’t seen you in a year.”
“You keep saying that.” Another snap of her gum. “Why can’t I see him now?”
I scrub a hand over my face before lowering my voice. “Look, Missy. If you want to see him, text me. I can figure something out. But not today. Not when you ambush him.”
“This isn’t an ambush, Derek.”
Fucking feels like one. But I don’t tell her that.
“Then if you really want to see him, text me and we’ll work it out.”
Not before I talk to my lawyer and figure out what rights this woman has.
“Fine.” Her voice is placating, but I don’t know how long that will keep. She turns her attention back to our son. “I’ll see you soon, baby, okay?”
Troy buries his face in the back of my legs. It causes Missy to fire one last hard look at me before turning on her high heels and walking down the path.
I heft Troy into my arms and head back inside.
“Was that really my mommy?” Troy asks.
“It was. Do you remember her?”
There’s no sense in lying to him. I never have. I’m not about to start now.
“No.”
Troy slides out of my arms and runs to get the hockey sticks sitting on the floor. All of the presents and wrapping paper are pushed under the tree. Two goals are sitting on opposite ends of the living room with a small puck in the middle.
“Would you like to see her?”
Troy shrugs a shoulder before handing me the stick. “Can we play hockey now?”
“Absolutely.”
Thank God for kids and their short memories. All Troy wants now is to play with the new hockey set I got him.
For him, it’s the best Christmas present ever.
