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“Definitely sure,” he said.
We hugged and he walked off.
The kid had grown like a weed.
At the rate he was going, he’d be taller than me.
What an athlete too.
A football star. A track star.
He could play basketball, hockey, baseball… everything.
About six months ago, Sage got fed up with a lot of lingering emotions about Travis’s biological father. So she called him up and asked if he would sign over his rights. The guy didn’t flinch. It really pissed me off… but then again I was the one who won in all of that. Together, we sat down and talked to Travis. We told him the truth. I wasn’t his real father, so to say. But, damn, did I want to be his dad.
We let him decide and for Christmas he handed me a folder with adoption papers inside. I sat on the floor in front of a giant Christmas tree at the same beach house and I wept like a baby. Then I signed those papers as fast as I could, making Travis my son.
Tonight, the SOLA Empire had a game.
There wasn’t anything special about the game.
Calgary was in town.
Not exactly a big rivalry.
We were third place in the division this season and clawing our way up, hoping to make an actual playoff run.
Honestly, none of that mattered.
All that mattered was getting to the second intermission.
Weeks of planning and phone calls, favors and keeping what had to have been the biggest secret of all time…
… during the second period intermission, Sage was going to be called down to the ice and I was going to propose to her.
