Tim Green - The Big Time

2010

ALL HIS LIFE, TROY dreamed of meeting the father he never knew. Never once did he imagine it would turn into a nightmare. Still, the rage oozing from his mother's voice when she saw his father's face wasn't a complete surprise. But when her hateful glare scorched Troy, too? That was a shocker.

She acted as if Troy had invited the man to show up on Seth Halloway's front steps when, in fact, the appearance of his missing father shook Troy to the core.

"We don't want you here," Troy's mom said.

Seth, the Falcons' star linebacker, appeared behind her and stepped onto the front porch of his stone mansion as if to protect Troy and his friends, Tate and Nathan, from the intruder. Noise from the party by the pool out back filtered up over the slate roof and into the night sky. The entire Duluth Tigers football team-which Seth had coached as a favor to Troy-and the players' parents were celebrating the team's victory in the Georgia Junior League Football State Championship.

"Can I help you?" Seth asked, the cords in his muscular neck now dancing in the porch light.

Troy's father stood an inch or two over six feet-as tall as Seth-with a handsome face worn from weather and worry. He laughed a soft, friendly laugh, and he stuck out a big hand with a slim gold watch on his wrist.

"I'm Drew Edinger; I'm staying with a client who lives a few streets away," Troy's dad said, extending his hand even farther until Seth had no choice but to shake it. "I know who you are. I admire the way you play."

"I said we don't want you here," Troy's mom said, crossing her arms and jutting out her jaw.

"I'm the boy's father."

"You're not his father," Troy's mom said.

Drew looked at Troy, gave him a sly wink, and said, "You're saying he belongs to someone else?"

"HE BELONGS TOME," Troy's mom said, "the one who changed his diapers and bathed him and cooked for him and helped him with his homework and took care of him when he was sick. Just because he's got half your genes doesn't make you a father."

Drew turned his attention back to her, shook his head, and said, "You haven't changed a bit, have you, Tessa? Still beautiful. Still full of vinegar."

Troy's mom pointed a finger toward the street. "Go."

"You think this boy doesn't deserve to know his father?" Drew asked, his heavy eyebrows settling in on his brow. "At least a little bit? What do you think, Troy?"

Troy felt his mouth sag open, but no words spilled out. He looked at Tate. She had good sense, better than he and Nathan. Her big brown eyes widened, but she only shrugged her shoulders in confusion.

"You're twelve years too late, Drew," Troy's mom said. "Don't make us call the police."

"Police?" Drew said, raising his eyebrows.

"Tessa," Seth said, speaking quietly. "Let's not go crazy here."

"I didn't even know Troy existed until I saw you and him on TV with Larry King," Drew said, his hands splayed open, his voice nearly begging. "I knew then. He looks just like me."

"I told you," Troy's mom said.

"You never told me anything," Drew said. "We fought about getting married and having kids, something you wanted and I didn't. Back then, with my injury and hoping I could make a comeback, my whole life was a mess. I never knew we had a son. You think I wouldn't have seen him all this time? You think I wouldn't have helped pay for things? I've done well, Tessa, even without football."

"I'm not going back in time to do this all over again," Troy's mom said. "I've moved on. We're fine."

"But you never told me," Drew said. "He deserves to know the truth, Tessa. I can't imagine what he must think."

"He thinks what he thinks," Troy's mom said.

"You need to tell him," Drew said.

Troy felt dizzy. "Mom?"

"He knew," she said, raising her voice and stabbing her finger at Drew. "Maybe I didn't throw myself at his feet and beg him to stay, but he knew."

"In law school they teach you to ask if innocence is possible," Drew said.

"I'm not a lawyer," she said.

"I am," he said, winking quickly at Troy again. "It's called presumption of innocence. It's what separates us from Attila the Hun. Think about it. Isn't it possible-given what I was going through at the time-that I didn't put two and two together?"

"You were a math major," she said. "Adding two and two was something you shouldn't have missed."

"Maybe I shouldn't have," Drew said, nodding. "Okay, I agree; but I'm asking you if it's possible that I did. Isn't it? Couldn't me not being around for Troy all this time be a big mistake?"

Troy looked at his mom. Her lower lip disappeared beneath her top teeth as she studied Drew Edinger.

"Tessa, if you tell me no," Drew said, pointing down the stone path toward the driveway and the Porsche convertible in which he'd pulled up, "then I'll walk away, go back to Chicago, and neither of you will ever see me again."

Troy held his breath.

TROY'S MOM'S GLARE FADED. She hung her head and quietly said, "You were always clever, Drew. I bet you're some lawyer."

"That means you agree," Troy's father said, pushing back the flaps of his leather blazer so he could plant his hands on the waist of his jeans.

"No," she said, shaking her head so that the sheets of her long brown hair fell in a curtain about her face. She looked up with burning eyes. "I won't agree. I'd still like you to leave now. We're having a celebration, and you weren't invited. You're not part of my life, and you're not part of Troy's. You missed your chance. Go."

Drew's face fell. He dropped his hands and shifted his cowboy boots so that they scuffed the grit on the stone stoop. "You can't just-"

Seth stepped forward and held his hand up like a traffic cop, almost touching Drew's chest. "No. She asked you to leave, so you need to do that."

Troy saw the flicker of anger in his father's eyes. His jaws were working side to side, and his hands curled into fists.

Troy stood paralyzed by it all-unable to move, unable to think, barely able to breathe.

"Don't do this," Seth said, quiet and almost friendly.

Then the fire went out. Troy's father cast a sad, almost desperate look at Troy before he turned and retreated down the stone walkway. The orange Porsche's lights blazed and the engine revved, then the car shot out backward into the road. The tires yelped, and the Porsche surged up the street to be swallowed by the night.

Troy descended the steps, moving in the car's direction until he stood alone on the edge of the light where it met the shadows of the front lawn's towering trees.

"Dad?" he said.

"MY GOD," TROY'S MOM said under her breath.

Troy looked up at her as she turned and disappeared into Seth's house before reappearing to say "Troy, get your things. You've got a big day tomorrow."

Troy looked at his friends. Seth frowned and followed Troy's mother back inside. Nathan scowled in confusion. Tate tilted her head to one side, looking into Troy's eyes as if she could read his feelings. Her eyes glistened with sadness and concern.

Tate descended the steps and touched his arm. Speaking quietly, she asked, "Troy, are you okay?"

"I-I don't know," he said, taking a deep breath and letting it go. Troy felt suddenly tired and sore. The finger he'd dislocated during the championship game throbbed, and the thrill of winning sputtered under the storm of feelings about his father.