“Crap. Should I have said congratulations?” Danny asked. “I don’t know which is right in this situation.”
“Yes. No. Neither do I.” He gave his face a rough scrub. “God, now she’s considering an abortion, and I…” He let his hands fall limp between his knees and stared bleakly at the field below. “I know it’s her decision, but I feel like my life is being held hostage, you know?”
“Yeah,” Danny replied quietly.
“I didn’t plan this, and I certainly didn’t want it to happen like this. I mean, you’re right about the timing…but as Millie pointed out, this might be the only chance I get to have a kid. She can’t have any, says she never wanted any, and I…” He trailed off, using only a helpless shrug as punctuation. “I do.”
“But you don’t want to be with anyone else.”
“Right.”
“Does she know? About the test, I mean.”
Ty shook his head, incapable of voicing any more denial.
“When are you going to tell her?”
Again, Ty had no words.
“You can’t wait, man. The longer you wait, the worse it’ll be. She’s been on pins and needles too,” Danny reminded him.
“I know.” Ty wrung his hands, then chanced a look at the man beside him. “But how? How do I do this? How can I have a relationship with Millie and be a good father to my kid? Will she still even want a relationship with me? She didn’t sign on for dealing with a kid…and Mari. Hell, she’s hardly signed on for anything.”
“It’s a lot to think about, but you’ll figure it out,” Danny assured him.
“Do you really think so?” he asked bluntly.
Danny clapped him hard on the shoulder, then rose, grunting a bit as his knee popped audibly. “I think you’re a good guy who tries to live a good life.” He surveyed the band members scurrying around in what looked to be complete disarray. “You know, it’s always like this.” He waved a hand in the direction of the field. “On Wednesday, they look like a pack of blind ants scrambling around for the last crumb. By Saturday evening, that mess will be a tribute to David Bowie complete with rocket ship and guitar formations.”
Ty raised his eyebrows, surprised the football coach paid any attention at all to the band director’s plans. “Will it?”
Danny nodded. “I started having a couple of film and television students video band practice and the halftime shows. I make the team watch them every Monday before we review game film.”
“You do?”
Stepping down a row, Danny chuckled. “They hate being compared to the band kids, but I think they’re starting to see the point.”
Ty blinked up at him. “Which is?”
Danny gestured to the field, where chaos seemed to reign. “If they can play ‘Heroes,’ then the sad, sorry bunch of misfit jocks I inherited can try to be heroes.”
“Just for one day?” Ty challenged.
Danny laughed and shook his head as he proceeded to step from bleacher to bleacher. “Hell no. I need five more Saturdays out of them.”
“Don’t forget the bowl game,” Ty called out to him.
Raising both hands over his head, Danny held up six fingers. At the bottom, he squinted up at Ty, shielding his eyes from the lowering sun with one hand. “Hey, Ty?”
“Yeah?”
“Congratulations, man.”
And the fist in his chest was back. Resisting the urge to cover the sore spot with his hand, he waved and called down a gruff, “Thanks.”
* * *
Practice dragged past at a snail’s pace. Ty hung back, letting his assistant coaches handle the ins and outs. His powers of concentration were for shit, and the last thing he needed was anyone getting a glimpse of the mess in his head. But once the intrasquad scrimmage and postmortem were done, he found himself reluctant to leave the Warrior Center.
Once he walked through those doors, he’d have to tell Millie the worst good news he’d ever have in his life. Because, in essence, it was good news. Danny’s congratulations drove the reminder home. He was going to be a father, and no matter what the circumstances, he couldn’t help but be a little happy. Between divorcing Mari and falling for Millie, he’d abandoned any hope of ever having a kid of his own. Now the opportunity had come around again, and he couldn’t let it slip by.
As he loaded some notes, a DVD, and his tablet into his gym bag, he marveled at the turn his day had taken. That morning, he’d been ninety-nine-point-nine percent certain he was not the father of Mari’s baby. Over the past week, he’d latched on to the low probability and ignored the looming specter of possibility. The last thing he wanted was to be forever tied to his ex-wife. And a child…talk about your unbreakable bonds.
Ty shuddered as he recalled Mari’s behavior at the lab facility where the test took place. He didn’t blame her for being nervous or scared, but she’d acted affronted when they requested pre- and postnatal DNA testing. Like she hadn’t done anything to make him question her word. Yes, she’d been scared. He had been too. And the part of him that had loved her enough to marry her still cared enough to hate hurting her, but he needed things between them to be as clear as possible.
She was hurting him. Again. And he wouldn’t roll over and take it this time. Now, he had more to fight for. More to look forward to. He loved Millie, and Millie loved him, whether she’d admit it or not. The back-and-forth they’d been engaged in didn’t even bother him. She was wary; so was he. He had faith they could work things out.
He and Millie built each other up. Or rather, she built him up. He hadn’t done much for her other than some sex and a little takeout.
