Chapter 5

Harris

This place is packed.

There are over fifty professional athletes in the conference center signing autographs and taking pictures with fans. A few big basketball stars are getting most of the attention.

Washed-up old hockey players like me don't draw crowds like they used to.

The organizer put me in the back.

I wouldn't even have agreed to come, but it was in Kansas City and I never turn down an opportunity to come here. You never know who you're going to run into.

I straighten my pile of eight-by-ten photos and clasp my hands on the table.

A bored-looking teenage boy about sixteen years old wanders over.

He picks up my photo and twists his face up.

"Who's The Flamethrower?" he asks.

"That's me," I say, forcing out a smile. "They used to call me that."

He looks at me. "They don't anymore?"

"Not really."

He looks at the sign with the price on it.

"Twenty dollars for a photo?"

"It's for charity."

"Can I have one for free?"

"No." I grab the photo from him and put it back on the pile.

He looks at the rest of my table—a few signed pucks, a signed jersey, and a signed pair of gloves—with complete disdain before he wanders away.

I drop my head and sigh.

This is so embarrassing.

"Oh great," I mumble as another kid—about five years old—approaches my table. He's got wild black hair, huge Coke bottle glasses, and he's staring right at me.

We don't break eye contact as he walks right up to my table and stares at me.

"Hello," I say.

He tilts his head as he scrutinizes my face. "Hi."

There's no way this kid knows who I am. There aren't a lot of five-year-old Harris Sutton fans in the world.

"Are you lost? Are you looking for the bathroom or something?"

He shakes his head and pushes his glasses up his nose.

"Where are your parents?" I ask as I look around. He's too young to be on his own.

"My mom is here," he says. "And you're my dad."

I snort out a laugh. "That's a good one. Did Reggie put you up to this?"

"Who's Reggie?"

"Seriously, kid," I say as I look at him funny. "You shouldn't be walking around here all by yourself. Where are your parents?"

"You're my dad," he says. "I'm Lucas."

"Okay, kid," I say, starting to get annoyed. "The joke is over. Move along."

"You're Harris Sutton, right?" he asks as he stares at me. "The Flamethrower. You play on the San Antonio Hyenas."

My stomach sinks as I stare at him. Those eyes… They're hauntingly familiar.

"How do you know my name?" I ask with my body going still.

"Because you're my dad."

"Kid, I?—"

And then I see her.

She bursts out of the crowd, huffing and puffing as she runs right to the little guy and drops to her knee. She grabs his arms and spins him around. "Why did you run away from me?" she asks with panic in her eyes. "You never run away from Mommy! Ever!"

She suddenly remembers where she is and her blue eyes flit over to mine. Her cheeks go bright red as she looks up at me.

It's her. It's really her.

Fiona.

My jaw is hanging open as I stare at her in shock.

I… I always hoped I'd see her again. I've played the scenario so many times in my head, but now that I'm finally seeing her for real, I'm left stunned. I'm having difficulty focusing and processing all of this.

"I found Dad," the little kid says as he points right at me.

She laughs nervously and somehow gets even redder.

"Dad?" I whisper as I turn back to the kid.

My heart starts racing as I do the mental math. About five or six years ago… He's about five or six…

Holy. Shit.

Fiona stands up and grips the kid's hand so hard he winces.

"Is there somewhere private we can talk?" she asks as she looks around shyly.

I'm too stunned to answer as I turn back to the kid.

Is he… mine?

It can't be. But those eyes… That face… I looked just like that when I was a kid.

"Yeah," I say as I stand up from the table. "There's a room in the back."

They follow behind me as I walk with my back straight and my mind swirling. This is crazy. This has to be a joke. A kid? I have a kid??

Maria the organizer brings us to a private room with a leather couch and some snacks and drinks set up on a table.

Lucas goes right for the bags of chips. "Can I have one, Mom? Please?"

"Sure, honey," she says with a tight smile. "Just don't spill it on the couch."

We both watch as he sits on the couch, rips open the bag, and accidentally spills half of the chips on the couch.

"Oops," he says as he looks at us.

We both rush over and scoop up the spilled chips like we've been doing this for years.

"Thanks," Fiona says as we walk over to the garbage and dump the chips in.

She turns to walk back over, but I grab her forearm, stopping her.

"He's… my son?"

She smiles nervously at me. "Surprise."

I swallow hard as I slowly turn back to him. He's munching on the chips while smacking his shoes together. He's so beautiful. He's the most magnificent thing I've ever seen.

My eyes get hot as I try to process all of these swirling emotions.

Seeing my dream girl again, seeing my son for the first time, I don't know what to think.

"Are you mad?" she whispers as I let go of her arm.

"Mad?" I repeat as I look at her. "Fiona, I'm the opposite of mad. I'm still trying to process all of this, but I am not mad."

She smiles shyly as her eyes drop to the floor. "I wasn't sure if you were going to remember me."

"Of course, I remember you," I say with my hands shaking. I just want to grab her and kiss her. I want to hold onto her and never let go. "You are unforgettable, Fiona. I've thought about you every day since."

She looks skeptical, but she doesn't push it further.

"I'm so sorry, Harris," she whispers. "I wanted to tell you so many times, but I… I was so scared."

"It's okay," I say as I take her hand and stroke it with my thumb. She looks at me with a look of gratitude. "You're here now. That's all that matters."

God, those lips… They're even more luscious than I remembered.

"Can I… go talk to him?"

"Of course," she says, nodding as her eyes fill with tears. "He hasn't been able to stop talking about you all week."

I have so many questions, but there will be time for those later. I have an adorable little kid to meet.

With a warmth radiating through my chest, I head over and sit beside my son on the couch.

My son.

"Chip?" he asks as he offers me the bag.

"Thanks," I say as I take one. He takes one too and cheers mine with it.

What do you say to a five-year-old? I haven't been around too many besides giving them a quick autograph and moving on.

"So, Lucas," I say nervously. "Do you like hockey?"

"Not really," he says. "I like magic."

"Magic? Oh yeah? My dad likes magic too! That's your grandfather."

"I have another grandfather?"

"Yeah. And he would love to meet you. He did teach me one trick, want to see it?"

He perks up on the couch with a big smile that makes my heart melt. "Okay!"

He's all giddy as I pull a quarter out of my pocket and start waving my hand around. "Keep your eye on it," I say as I move my hands with a flourish. "Do you have it? Keep looking. Keep?—"

"Whoa!" he says when I make it disappear. "How did you do that? Where did it go?"

"Reach into the pocket on your shirt."

Those beautiful brown eyes get larger behind his glasses. "No way!"

He reaches in and gasps in wonder when he pulls out another quarter. The first one is palmed in my hand. I slipped that one into his pocket when he was distracted with following my hand at the start of the trick.

"How did you do that?" he asks as he hands me the quarter back.

"You can keep it."

"No way!" he says with his face lighting up. "My dad is the best!"

I can feel my cheeks getting all red as I smile.

I spend the next few minutes teaching him the trick and then he calls his mom over to attempt it on her.

I stand back and observe Fiona with him. She's even more incredible than I remembered. She's so sweet and caring with the boy, he's lucky to have her.

A warm fluttering fills my chest as I watch them together. When Lucas drops the quarter from his hand and it bounces on the ground she encourages him to try again. I'm mesmerized by her.

It hits me hard that I have a child with this woman.

The elusive woman of my dreams who slipped out of my grasp. Who disappeared on me and left me reeling for years.

We're bonded together forever through Lucas.

Now that she's back, I'm not going to let her go.

With the three of us here, I've never felt so whole. It feels like my life is finally complete. Like I've found what I've been desperately searching for.

Maria the organizer knocks on the door and pops her head in. "I'm sorry to interrupt, Mr. Sutton, but you have a lineup of fans waiting at your table."

"I do?" I ask, turning to her in shock. "I'm mean, sure. Of course. My fans."

"Well, we should go," Fiona says, standing up and rubbing her legs nervously.

"No, Mommy!" Lucas complains.

"You guys can hang out at my table," I say as Maria rushes off.

"Can we, Mommy, please?" Lucas begs.

Fiona smiles gratefully at me. "Okay. Maybe for a bit."

"Yes!" Lucas says with a fist pump. He grabs my hand and pulls me to the door.

This kid squeezes my hand the entire way as he rambles on about his top five favorite dinosaurs. He lists the pros and cons of each one.

I keep turning back and stealing glances at Fiona. She's smiling but she looks so emotional as she watches her son with his father for the first time. I can tell she's trying not to cry.

I just want to go to her and take her in my arms. I want to tell her that she doesn't have to do this alone anymore. That I'm going to be with her every step of the way, helping her, supporting her, and loving her.

"Are those all your fans?" Lucas asks when we get to my table. There's a line-up of about fifteen people holding Hyena gear to get signed.

"Yup!" I say as I pull up two chairs—one on either side of me for my little family.

Fiona sits on my left, but Lucas just hops onto my lap like it's the most natural thing in the world.

"Thanks for staying," I whisper to Fiona. She smiles and taps my forearm with her hand. It sends endorphins rushing through my body.

Lucas is a blast to have around. He takes the jersey from the first guy in line—a middle-aged guy in a Centaurs' hat—and hands it to me.

"Do you want him to sign it Harris or Dad?" Lucas asks.

We all can't help but laugh.

"Harris Sutton would be good," the guy says with a chuckle.

We get through the line and then hang out as more stragglers come.

"Can you come to our house for dinner?" Lucas asks when the place starts closing down.

I'd love nothing more than that. I have a game tonight, but I'm already trying to think of how I can get out of it. Maybe I can say my elbow is hurting too much or I have the flu.

"Harris has a game tonight," Fiona says sadly. "That's why he's in town."

"Can I stay up to watch the game on TV?" Lucas asks. "Please, Mommy."

"Why don't you guys come tonight?" I say with my heart racing. "I'll get you tickets. Front row!"

Lucas' adorable face lights up as he turns to his mom. "Can we? Please?"

"Okay," Fiona says with a smile. "That sounds like fun."

My future wife and my incredible son are going to watch me play for the first time.

There's no way I'm playing like shit tonight.

I'm going to have the best damn game of my career.

Tonight, The Flamethrower will return. Tonight, he's going to burn the fucking house down.