Scandalous Scotsman - M.J. Fields Page 0,35
Potter posters and other magical elements, mashed up with a preteen who was obsessed with One Direction.
If only I could snap my fingers and disappear right this very moment.
“Interesting assortment of interests,” he says, sitting on the end of the bed, uncovering my leg and gently squeezing it. “Does this hurt?”
“Doesn’t feel great, but hurt? No.”
He lifts my leg and slides the pillow beneath it. Then he sets a wrapped ice pack on it. He must have brought that thinking ice cream or a Ziploc baggy full of ice wasn’t enough.
“The Legos?” he asks.
I sit up and turn on the lamp on my nightstand, purposely casting light on the mess I really was.
Still am.
“Baby steps,” I whisper-hiss at myself.
He looks up at me curiously.
I shake my head. “Never mind.”
He stands up off the bed and walks over to one of the shelves. “Harry Potter?”
“Every one of them.” I nod.
“Let me guess, your obsession stems from a Christmas gift. You and your father pulled them out on rainy days and built them together?”
I nod. “Do you and your daughter …?” I stop when I realize I’m asking something that is “none of my concern.”
“Not yet, but I hope to build lots of memories with Kai. Memories I’ve missed the past eight years creating.”
I have a million questions that I want to ask, but again, “none of my concern.”
“I wasn’t in love with her mother. I met her on holiday. We fucked a few times. Then she came back to the States, and I went back to my life.” His back to me, he continues, “She reached out to the football club through social media to get in contact with me eight months later and told them I was a father.”
“Wow, that must have been—”
He turns around and smiles slightly. “A knee to the nuts?”
“Sorry about that.”
“Probably deserved yours. Karma, you ken?”
He turns back around, shoves his hands in his pants pockets, and inhales a deep breath, rolling the tension from his neck. “Having claims on a near monthly basis of paternity for one player or another, the club’s lawyers didn’t say a word to me. They handled it. It wasn’t until three months later that I had a confirmed DNA test, a cigar, and a pat on the back congratulating me on essentially a faulty condom.”
“They didn’t tell you that—”
“Protocol,” he says quickly. “Not without proof.”
I don’t ask anymore, and that is a feat in itself.
After a few moments he walks over, his back to me, and sits on the side of the bed, holding one of the smaller constructed sets, one I bought this past Christmas, keeping the tradition going on my own.
“Beyza was a graduate student at Brown, in the medical science program. She and I made an agreement that our goals and dreams shouldn’t change because of her parents’ religious beliefs and the pressure she felt they’d put on us to become something we weren’t. We weren’t in love, and neither of us felt it fair to force it to happen. We arranged for her to bring Kai to Scotland and visit, because she said she’d like to explore the area, possibly wanting to move to Scotland and transfer for her fellowship program where I could be more involved, and I definitely wanted to be. I was in love with Kai from the first time I saw her on Skype.
“We settled on her Christmas break, which would also be Kai’s first birthday, for the two of them to visit. It was all planned and paid for the very next day.
“Over the next couple weeks, we spoke more about her family, and I learned just how controlling her father was,” he sighs, and I place my hand on his back, making small circles on the fabric of his shirt, hoping to calm some of the tension. “She never showed up, and for three months she ignored my attempts to contact her. Life was busy, so busy that another three months passed before I decided I’d had enough.
“I hopped on a plane. Then I showed up at Brown, and for three days I waited outside different buildings where I had found out she could possibly be taking classes in until I found her.” He stood up and started pacing. “I insisted on meeting my daughter, had no problem going through her parents to do so, and after two days, it finally happened.”
He turns and looks at me, snaps his fingers, and smiles. “That’s how long it took to realize I’d