Tackling Love - Kathleen Kelly Page 0,8
as I high-five Blaise.
“Little punk,” mutters Gray, then he chases Blaise toward the locker rooms.
It’s after eight by the time I get Blaise home. He’s wide awake, bouncing up and down in his seat talking excitedly about how most of the guys came with us for dinner. He’s telling me again how Gordon Smythe, a wide receiver on our team, sat with him and shared his pizza with him. I think he forgets I was there too.
“Buddy… I know! We good for next week, or have you got plans?”
Blaise goes quiet and looks uncomfortable. “I, uh… have something on.”
“It’s cool, little man, if you have plans. I get it. Maybe later in the week or next week?”
I pull up in front of his house and look over at him, his eyes are fixed on a car in the driveway.
“You okay?” I ask.
“My dad’s here.”
There something in his tone I don’t like, so I unbuckle my seat belt and turn off the car. “You know I should probably come in and talk to your ma, she’s probably going to rip me a new one for getting you home so late. Let’s go in and face the music together.” I grin at him, but he simply nods.
As we walk up the pathway to his house, the front door flies open, and a familiar face stomps out. It’s the guy who was with Skye at the bar.
“You!” Derek yells as he strides toward me. His face is flushed with anger, and his fists are balled by his sides.
“No, Derek. Stop!” screams Blaise’s mother, Maria.
Derek reaches me, pulls back his arm, and throws a punch. I deflect, push his arm down, twist him, then pull it up behind his back.
“Be calm, Derek, be calm. Blaise, buddy, why don’t you go inside and tell your ma about tonight and explain why we are late while I have a chat with your dad?”
Blaise nods, and Maria wraps her arms around him as they head back inside. Derek’s struggling but can’t break free. When they hit the front door, Maria looks back at me. I smile and give a wave with my free hand—she looks concerned but keeps walking.
“Okay, Derek, you need to calm down. I’m going to let you go, but man, if you try to come at me again, I will put you down. You feel me?” I push him away from me, and he rubs his arm furiously.
“It’s not enough to embarrass me by taking my date home. So, what, now you’re trying to take away my son, too?” Derek rages.
“Whoa…” I put up my hands, “… you need to reel this shit in. Your date wasn’t yours to claim, and as for your son, if you weren’t a deadbeat dad, he wouldn’t need me,” I say, my words coming out forcefully.
All the color drains from his face, and Derek stumbles back as though I’ve winded him. He turns and gives me his back. “It hasn’t been easy. I try. My job has been in jeopardy, my wife can’t stand me, and now my son looks at me like I’m a failure.”
“Look, I don’t know what it’s like to have a family, but man, your son loves you. He talks about you… a lot,” I reply.
Derek slowly turns around, all rage gone from his features and is replaced with something else. Remorse?
“I’m sorry, man. I was out of line. It’s just lately, you are all he talks about. He’s been so excited for tonight, it’s been ‘Colt this and Colt that.’”
“I might be his football hero, but you will always be his father. No one can take that away from you. We good?” I ask as I hold out my hand.
Derek nods, looks me up and down, and takes my hand in his. “Yeah, we’re good.”
“Cool. I’m gonna get going. Are you going to be all right here?” I ask as I point to the house over my shoulder.
“Yeah, guess I owe them an apology, too.”
I nod. “Something tells me, they’ll forgive you. Catch you later.”
I walk to my car and glance back at him. Derek has his hand on the back of his neck as he stares at the house. Slowly, but purposefully, he makes his way up the walk and to the front door.
I sit in my car for half an hour out the front of their house just watching—there’s no yelling or screaming. I’m tempted to knock on the front door to make sure everything is okay when Maria steps out