Quarterback's Secret Baby(92)

I lay down in my childhood bed and stared at the ceiling as different scenarios and varying plans flitted through my head. It was so complicated.

At least, it seemed complicated. As it always had. But now there was another face beside Tasha's in my mind's eye. Henry. My son. There was a sudden moment of clarity around three in the morning. A kind of bolt from the blue, a new perspective in which the things that were important, and the things that weren't seemed to sort themselves as I stood back, merely observing. I - we all - get so caught up in the day to day issues in our lives. Even some of the bigger things, when viewed in the right light, reveal themselves as trifling when set against the broader arc of our lives.

My parents were early risers so I set my alarm clock for seven a.m. and, when it went off what seemed like twenty minutes later, I forced myself out of bed, bleary-eyed and stumbling, to find them. They were in the kitchen - my mother reading the newspaper (so funny, they still read actual newspapers) and my father scrambling eggs.

They both looked up when they saw me.

"Kaden!" My mother exclaimed. "Are you OK?"

I laughed. "Yeah, I'm fine - just wanted to talk to you guys."

My dad glanced down at his watch. "It's barely seven in the morning son, what's going on?"

They were worried, I could feel it. "Don't freak out," I told them, grinning because I couldn't stop myself, "it's nothing bad, nothing's wrong, I didn't get arrested or anything like that. Just - just sit down. I have some news."

My dad doled out the eggs onto three plates and set one down for each of us. Then he sat down at the table and I joined him. Both of them were staring at me. It was unnerving.

"Jesus, you two! Can you stop staring! I said it wasn't a bad thing, OK?"

"Well, yes, Kaden, but you just asked us to sit down and that-"

"Mom! Stop worrying! I know it's kind of your mom-thing, I get that, but seriously, just stop worrying and listen to what I have to say. Can you guys do that?"

My own upbeat mood seemed to convince them, at least partially, that I wasn't about to confess to being a drug addict or a murderer. But when I had them both finally paying attention to me I realized I hadn't really rehearsed how I was going to tell them.

"I, uh," I started, fishing for the right words. "Do you, um, do you remember Tasha - Tasha Greeley? From high school?"

"Yes...?" My mom replied, clearly confused about where things were going.

And where were they going? Better to just tell them than spend twenty minutes hemming and hawing, right? I took a deep breath.

"Yeah, well, I think I'm going to come right out and say this. No use in beating around the bush. I saw her last year when mom had her accident and I came home for a few days. She got pregnant and gave birth a few months ago." I paused. Was I really going to say what I was about to say? I was. "I'm going to ask her to marry me today."

I leaned back in my chair and watched as my parents' heads turned slowly towards each other and then, in unison, towards me. Neither of them said anything at first - both of them looked shocked.

"Kaden," my dad said, finally. "Is this - is this a joke of some kind? Because if it is, it's not funny."

"No," I reassured him. "It's not a joke."

"You're - what?" My mom spluttered. "You - you have a baby?! What - why didn't you tell us? Why didn't you-"

"Because I didn't know. Not until yesterday. She thought I was with someone new - my friend Jess, from Brooks - remember we went to that gala together and the photos were published in the tabloids? Tasha thought I was with her - and she thought I was too busy with my NFL career to-"

"Wait." My dad said. "Just wait a minute, Kaden. She only told you about this yesterday? And now you're going to get married?"

"Yeah, it was yesterday. And I can see your minds are blown right now. I'm sorry to spring it on you like this but I thought it would be worse to just go ahead and do it without telling you."

And then the onslaught began, both parents speaking over each other in short, rapid-fire sentences. "You're too young." "She's too young." "You haven't had enough time to think about it." "What about your career?" "Have you at least spoken to your lawyer?" "You can't do this."

I let them speak - it wasn't surprising that they were caught off-guard. My parents are good people and I'm their only child. The least I could do was let them vent. When they ran out of steam about half an hour later and my mother looked at me and threw her hands up in the air yelling "Well?! Aren't you going to say anything?" I just nodded.

"Yeah, I'm going to say something. But are you guys going to listen? Because I'm going to be honest with you right now - I'm not coming to you for advice. I love you both, you know that. You've both done everything you ever could for me. But this isn't me asking your permission. I'm going to propose to Tasha when I see her later. I'm letting you know out of respect. But if you want me to answer questions I will."