Page 64 of Their Perfect Daddy

“Amen to that!” Dad shouts. “Can't even eat a cookie in peace without the woman telling me I'm going to spoil my dinner. Mind you, I'm three rooms away.”

Mom giggles as if what he described isn't completely ludicrous. Shaking my head, I get on with the point.

“I'm actually at the hospital now. I can come pick you two up and bring you back if you want.”

“No need. We also hired a car to drive us there with the money he sent.”

“Okay then. Is there anything you didn't think to prepare for? Are you staying at a hotel? I feel as if I'm useless right now.”

“You're never useless, son. Updates on Monty are all we need. Heck, simply talking to you has helped my nerves. If you had sounded like you were upset, I would be worried about Monty. But since you seem calm, I know he's fine. We'd love it if we could see you too if you’re up to waiting for us. It looks like it's about thirty minutes till we get there. Think you can keep yourself busy?”

“I'm sure I can figure out something, Mom. Let me send Danny a text to let him know so Monty can be prepared. I told him you were trying to make it, not that you'd gotten a private flight.”

There's silence on the other end, then Mom says, “Why is Danny with him? I thought Danny worked for you.”

I don't reply immediately. If there's one thing my mom hates more than being disrespected, it's being lied to. She says it's a double whammy when you add in the dishonesty, which is why she hates it so much.

“He’s there being supportive of Monty. I would rather not say why but know when you get here, you'll get all the answers you so desire.”

Mom clicks her tongue, then tells me she loves me and hangs up. I immediately call Danny rather than texting him because I want to make sure he understands the gravity of what I'm telling him.

“Hello? Micah?”

“My parents took a private plane. They're already here. Please warn Monty it's going to be less than thirty minutes ‘til they arrive. That's all the window you have.”

“What do you mean thirty minutes?! I'm not prepared to meet the parents. This is a disaster.”

I might have laughed at his overreaction any other time. Danny has already met my parents when they’ve visited. This is different though.

Skye's deep voice rings out in the background and then Monty's on the line. “Did you say thirty minutes ‘til our parents get here? How is it even possible?”

“Maybe because someone has been spoiling our parents with money they don't actually need, and they decided to put the money to use by coming to see you instead of using it for something else. Sound likely?”

Monty chuckles, then sucks in a breath. “Don't make me laugh. It hurts. And yeah I spoil them because they’re our parents. They put up with our bullshit when we were angsty teens. I want to make sure they have a nice life. Sue me.”

“It's not a bad thing, really. I understand your logic. If I made as much money as you, I would probably do the same. It's just amusing to me that instead of actually doing what you probably intended them to do with it, they're using it to come see you.”

Monty agrees with me, saying, “Yeah, you're right. Then again, it's our parents. What can we do?” Before I can respond he rushes to add, “I've got to go. These two guys need a quick rundown on all things Tempest.”

They sure do.

“I’ll be coming up with them. Hopefully I can put out any fires.”

“Much appreciated, bro. See you again soon.”

Once I'm done speaking with them, I call Jett. My sweet boy has been buried underneath paperwork ever since Monty wasinjured. It’s how he has been coping with knowing his friend is not doing well. His sole focus is on figuring out how to fill the gap that Monty being down creates. The Bulldogs are a fantastic team with a ton of strong players, but they’re not impervious to the common mistake of relying too much on specific people.

With Monty out for the rest of the season—and likely early into next—they have to know that the second-string members can step up. It's that or they make a trade and bring in someone who can fill his shoes until he's ready.

Jett has been going over the possibilities for each variance again and again, running numbers and statistics. I've been keeping an eye on him to make sure he doesn't overdo it. At the same time, I’ve been giving him the space to do what is needed to calm the storm inside of him.

My boy likes order. This sudden change means he doesn't have the order he needs. So he's doing what he can.

The phone rings twice before he answers. “Daddy,” he says softly.

I smile as I say, “Hello, sweet boy. I wanted to check on you to make sure you've eaten.”

He hums softly, my sign he hasn’t actually put anything into his stomach today. The shuffling of papers follows the noise and then he clears his throat.

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