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She wrapped her arm around her son’s shoulder. “Alright, sweetie, let’s go inside so you can hang out with your cousins.”
At the front door she rapped twice, then opened it without waiting for an answer. “Hello?” she called as they stepped through the front door.
Her sister’s head popped around the corner from the kitchen. Viktoria’s eyebrows wrinkled as she looked at them. “Hi, what are you two doing here?”
“Hi, Aunty Vika.” Max ran over and hugged the other woman. “Mom picked me up early today and she met Smitty. It was so cool.” He turned toward Kia. “Tell her, Mom, wasn’t he cool?”
“Yep, he was pretty awesome.” She pasted a smile on her face. Cool wasn’t exactly how she would describe meeting her son’s father again.
How was she going to tell Jeff? What if he didn’t want to be a dad? Her son would be heartbroken. “Why don’t you go find your cousins?”
“Alex and Katya are in the backyard. Layla’s pouting in her room,” Viktoria told him.
Max wrinkled his nose. “I’m going outside.”
Viktoria shared a knowing smile with her sister. Max had zero patience for anything that ruined his fun. “Good decision. Do you want a snack first?”
“Nah, Mom gave me a bar in the car.” He giggled. “Bar in the car.” He slapped his leg like he was so funny. “I’m a poet and I know it.” Max snickered again.
Kia smiled. “Go find your cousins, you goofball.”
“Bye.” He tossed up his arm and dashed toward the back door.
The second the back door slammed shut behind him, Viktoria turned to her. “Do we need wine?”
“We definitely need wine.” She followed her sister into the kitchen. Feeling completely at home, Kia walked to the fridge and pulled out the bottle of pinot gris her sister always kept on hand, chilling in the fridge door. She set it on the counter beside the two wine glasses Vika had just taken out for them.
With a large glass of wine each, they went back through the house to the living room. Kia dropped onto the worn brown sofa. Vika sat on the old beige recliner across from her. “What’s going on?” Vika asked.
Kia took a fortifying sip of her wine. “So it turns out Smitty is Jeff.”
“Jeff?” Viktoria looked at her blankly.
“Max’s dad.”
“What?” Viktoria sat in stunned silence for several seconds. “How is that possible?”
“I don’t know.” She was still trying to process the information herself. When she’d seen him today, it was like she’d been hit by a Mack truck. Spinning her world out of control.
“I don’t get it. How could Max’s dad be the same guy he’s always talking about?”
Tears welled in Kia’s eyes. “I don’t know.” She didn’t understand it herself. “What am I supposed to do?” she whispered. “How am I supposed to tell some fancy major league baseball player, ‘Oh hey remember that one-night stand we had six years ago? Surprise.’” She dropped her head against the back of the sofa and looked up at the ceiling. “How the hell am I supposed to tell him that?”
Vika stood up and sat beside Kia on the couch. “You just do, hon. It’s not like it’s your fault. You tried to find him when you found out you were pregnant. What more were you supposed to do?”
“I know, but still.” She blinked away the tears. “He’s like this big-shot baseball player. I don’t know anything about his life. What if he’s married with kids of his own? I can’t just upend his entire life.”
“Yes, you can. He’s Max’s dad, sweetie. Now that you’ve found him, he deserves to know.”
“I know that, Vik, it’s just…what if he’s not happy about it? That would destroy Max.” The idea of Jeff finding out he was Max’s dad and rejecting him was so much worse than Max not knowing who his dad was. Her son would be heartbroken.
Vika squeezed her hand. “But what if he is happy? Imagine what that would mean to Max. He’d finally have a dad. You know how much he wants that.”
“I know.” Her eyes burned as more tears rushed to the surface. “It’s stupid, but it’s always been Max and I against the world. This just …” She sniffed. “It changes everything.”
“True, but maybe for the better.”
“Maybe, but maybe for the worse.” She swiped her nose with the back of her hand. “What if he’s like one of those professional athletes you always hear about? Booze and women and parties. That’s not dad material.”
