Tuffer's Christmas Wish (3 page)

They filled their plates from the buffet and
sat down at the table. Dinner was one scrumptious dish after
another. They finished up with a German chocolate cake and homemade
Christmas cookies. He was stuffed.

“
Let’s go for a walk,” Lexie
suggested.

They bundled up, and she led him to the sea,
not far from her house. They joined hands and strolled through the
sand, listening to the waves.

He couldn’t get the meeting with Rusty out
of his mind. Tuffer had never thought of himself as a bastard
before.

“
Are you okay? You’ve been so quiet,”
she asked, raising her voice to be heard above the tide.

“
Weird day.”

“
How so?”

“
You have such a nice life. So normal.
Mine isn’t like that. It’s messy.”

“
Mine’s messier than you
know.”

“
Sure, sure.”

“
No, really.”

“
You eat lobster. This was my first
time. You live in a mansion. I grew up in a small house. Your
parents are big, important people. Mine run a nursery school. I’m
not sophisticated like you are Lexie. I don’t belong
here.”

They headed back to Coach’s place.

“
That doesn’t matter.”

“
It matters to me. I’m an idiot around
you and your family. I don’t belong.” He glanced at his watch. “My
parents are arriving in half an hour. I need to go.”

Once inside, Tuffer thanked the coach, his
wife, and Lyssa. Lexie walked him to his car.

“
You need to find someone from your
class. I’ll never fit in. You’ll get tired of being with a guy who
doesn’t know how to eat a lobster or which fork to use. You’re
sweet. I like you. But I’m not in your league.”

“
Tuffer Demson! You have some nerve
dumping me on Christmas Eve!” Her eyes flashed then teared
up.

He put an arm around her. “I’m not dumping
you. You can do better than me, that’s all.”

“
Go to hell!” She shoved him off and
flounced into the house, slamming the door. He buckled his seatbelt
and turned the car toward home.

I don’t belong with those people. I’m just
the bastard son of a pro football has-been. I need to stick to my
own.

His depression deepened as he drove by house
after house, lit up in jewel tones of red, green, and blue. Some
places had flashing lights, some had steady. The little town of
Monroe put on a beautiful show at the holidays. Snowmen in front
yards wore warm, winter scarves, and silver and blue Christmas
trees were visible in living rooms on street after street.

He’d expected the decorations and
music on the radio to cheer him up, but it didn’t. He’d finally
gotten his wish, the one he’d had year after year.
And how did it turn out? Badly.

He climbed the stairs to his place about a
mile from downtown. Once inside, he tidied up. The work made him
feel a little better. He couldn’t wait for his folks to arrive. He
missed them. They were proud of his achievements and came to all
the home games they could. They lived outside of Kingston, New
York, it was a bit of a trip.

The buzzer sounded. Bev threw herself in his
arms, hugging him. Ralph shook his son’s hand then embraced him.
Tuffer lugged in the ham his mom had cooked at home, the side
dishes she always prepared, and a tin of her homemade cookies.
Packages were placed under his small tree.

They were full of news of friends back home
and amusing stories. Tuffer kicked back with a beer and munched on
cookies while he listened. He shared his football war stories from
away games and his tussle with his first lobster.

“
Never had a lobster. Was it worth
it?” his dad asked, opening a brew.

“
It was okay,” Tuffer lied. Actually,
he’d loved it. “You’re not missing anything.” No way could Ralph
Demson afford the fancy dish.

The room filled with laughter and warmth as
they heated up the meal his mother had prepared and wolfed down the
delicious food. They retired early. The linebacker too. It had been
an exhausting day.

Christmas morning, Bev whipped up a hearty
breakfast of scrambled eggs and leftover ham before they opened
gifts.

“
What’s the matter?” she asked
Tuffer.

He tried to slough it off, but she
persisted. “You can’t fool me. Something’s wrong. Come on, you know
you can tell me anything.”

Ralph joined them, fastening his robe over
flannel pajamas. “She’s right, Tuff. You know you can’t keep
anything from your mother. She’ll worm it out of you one way or
another.” He chuckled.

The young man cast a worried glance at his
father. “I finally got my Christmas wish.”

“
A new bike?” his dad
joked.

But Bev got it right away. She gasped.
“Really? You met him?”

Tuffer nodded.

“
Who? What’s going on? What’s this
about a Christmas wish?” Ralph glared at his wife.

She sighed. “When he was little, he wrote to
Santa, asking to meet his birth parents. After he met Shayna, there
was only one wish left. To meet his biological father. We didn’t
tell you, because we didn’t want to upset you.”

“
Your real father?” Ralph sank down on
a chair in the kitchen. Bev poured a mug of coffee and placed it in
front of him.

“
Rusty Fowler. He came to the diner
yesterday while I was having breakfast with Shayna. Did you know
who he was?” Tuffer asked.

“
No, Shayna wouldn’t say.”

Tuffer watched the color drain from his
father’s face.

“
So, what’s the word?” Ralph asked,
his hand shaking slightly as he picked up his beverage.

“
I’m the bastard son of a washed-up
pro football player.”

There was silence in the room.

“
He gave me reasons, excuses, as to
why he never got in touch. I’d actually seen him at a few college
games. We called him ‘The Stalker.’ The team thought he was
stalking the quarterback. I had no idea.”

“
Did he tell you why he
disappeared?”

“
Some lame excuse about avoiding an
expensive, public divorce.”

His parents winced.

“
I suppose he wants to be in your life
now. Pick up where he left off, or should have left off. The rotten
son-of-a-bitch!” Ralph rose from his seat, color returning to his
face. “Where was he when you needed him? He had plenty of dough. He
could have helped out. Taken you fishing or thrown a ball with you.
So, he’s gonna use his pro football days to steal my son?” Ralph
paced, his voice rising, tears clouding his eyes.

Tuffer jumped up and corralled his dad. He
grabbed the older man’s upper arms and forced him to stand still.
“That’s not gonna happen! You’re my real dad. Not him.”

“
You’re not gonna hang with
him?”

Tuffer shook his head. “I told him we have
nothing to talk about.”

Ralph hugged his boy.

“
You’ve been a great dad,” Tuffer
said.

Bev dabbed her eyes with a napkin.

“
I need a drink.” Ralph headed for the
liquor cabinet. He poured brandy for all three and settled on the
sofa.

“
What happened?” Bev asked.

Tuffer took them through his encounter with
Rusty Fowler. They finished their drinks, added wood and stoked the
fire, and then opened presents. Tuffer got another sweater,
handmade by Bev, a scarf, and gloves. Presents were modest because
his parents simply didn’t have much money.

He didn’t care. He didn’t need much, and
now, as an NFL player, he had the money to buy whatever he
wanted.

“
I know you didn’t have much time to
shop, with practice and traveling…” his mother said.

Tuffer held up his hand. “Wait!” He handed a
small box to his mother. “This is for both of you.” He grinned to
see the disappointed looks on their faces.

Bev unwrapped the package.

“
New house keys? Our house keys work
fine, son,” Ralph said.

“
No, no. Com’ere.” Tuffer ushered them
to the door. He opened it and pointed. “See?”

“
Yeah. A car. So?”

“
These are the keys. That’s
your
new car.”

“
Our car? No, the blue one is ours,”
Bev said, her face a mask of confusion.

“
Mom, Dad, I bought the Rav 4 for you.
It’s my Christmas present to you.”

Jaws dropped as the truth sunk in.

“
You did what?” Ralph’s eyebrows
jerked up.

“
You can’t drive that old wreck. It
isn’t safe. This is your new set of wheels. Come on. Let’s take a
drive. Wait until you see all the stuff it has.”

“
You bought us an automobile? That’s
so expensive.”

“
Don’t worry about the money, Mom.
Piece of cake. I even got the heated seats.” Tuffer grabbed his
coat and turned on the outside light.

“
I love the silver, Tuff. Great
choice,” Bev said, sliding into the front passenger side while her
son held the door.

They marveled at every little
thing,
oohing
and
aahing
as if the vehicle was a new
baby. Ralph put it in gear. They drove around the block. Tuffer’s
heart swelled. This was the first time he’d had the means to give
them a huge gift. They badly needed a new one, and now, they had
it. Both parents hugged him hard.

Bev put up a pot of coffee. They dug into
her cookies again. Tuffer loved the gingerbread, molasses cookies,
and chocolate pixies best. The linebacker retired early. He pulled
up his comforter and smiled at the memory of his dad behind the
wheel. His thoughts turned to Rusty Fowler, a man who had
sacrificed nothing for his blood child. Tuffer frowned. The man had
looked so pathetic, with a hangdog expression. Hatred toward the
cold, selfish man who had given him life still flowed through the
young man’s veins.

He thought about how Rusty had missed his
chance, year after year. Tuffer was twenty-three. Rusty had had
twenty-three Christmases to contact the boy. But he hadn’t. Meeting
face-to-face had opened the old wound. Pain flowed through him
again. Now, the old man was interested in basking in his son’s
limelight as a football pro.

And then, there was Lexie…

Tuffer awoke to the smell of pancakes and
coffee. He threw on a robe and dashed down the stairs. His mother
was singing along to the radio while she whipped up hot cakes.

After pleasant greetings, the young man sat
down to devour two stacks, a mug of coffee, and one of hot
chocolate.

A knock startled him. Who was at their door
at nine on the day after Christmas? He peered around the corner of
the arch to the kitchen. Lexie stood outside.

He turned the latch. “Hi. What are you doing
here?”

“
Can I come in? It’s freezing out
here.”

“
Sure, sure. I’m sorry. Come in. Have
some hot chocolate.” He silently blessed his parents for remaining
in the kitchen.

“
You left your sweater at the house.
It’s cold. You might need it.”

“
Thank you. You came all this way just
to bring me the sweater?”

“
No. I came to return this.” She
thrust the box with the bracelet into his hand. Her eyes filled,
but she blinked back the tears.

“
Keep it. I bought it for you. I want
you to have it.”

“
I can’t keep an expensive gift from a
guy who doesn’t want to be with me.”

“
It’s not you. I don’t fit
in.”

“
I don’t care if you’re like my father
and Jo. Do you like being with me?”

He stepped closer, snaking his arm around
her waist and pulling her to him. “I love being with you,” he
whispered. Then, he put the package back in her palm. “Please keep
this. I want you to have it.” He plaited his fingers through her
dark blonde hair.

She rested her cheek on his chest. “I like
being with you too. I have to get back. Dad’s making his world
famous chocolate chip pancakes .”

“
You’re going to keep the bracelet,
aren’t you?”

“
Are we going to keep seeing each
other?”

“
I hope so. I was an asshole. I’m
sorry.”

“
Then, yes.”

He leaned down to kiss her then pointed
straight up. “Mistletoe.”

She giggled, zipped up her coat, and was
gone.

The later that afternoon, Ralph bundled his
wife into their new car. Tuffer stood at the edge of the driveway
and waved. His heart weighed heavy to see them leave. He counted
them among his many blessings.

* * * *

Sunday’s game was in Nebraska. They were
playing the Huskers. Before game time, Tuff spotted Rusty Fowler
take his seat. The man stared at him, making looking away neigh
unto impossible. They made eye contact. Rusty smiled, nodded, and
raised his hand in greeting.

Tuffer nodded back. His mother had reminded
him that it was Christmas and forgiveness was in the air. Relieved
of his curiosity about his real dad, Tuffer had calmed down. He had
agreed with Bev that Rusty had lost something he could never
regain—Tuffer’s childhood.

His mother’s words had dissolved the hatred
that had burned in him. Rusty had missed out on a lifetime with his
son, but Tuffer had had a dad who was there, night after night, day
after day, who cared for him and loved him.