TUFFER’S CHRISTMAS WISH
Jean C. Joachim
Moonlight Books
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A Moonlight Books Novel
Short Story, Literary Fiction
Tuffer’s Christmas Wish
Copyright © 2015 Jean C. Joachim
Cover design by Jean C. Joachim
Edited by Tabitha Bower
All cover art and logo copyright © 2015 by Jean Joachim
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Moonlight Books
Other works of Jean C. Joachim
LOST & FOUND DUET
WITH BEN TANNER
LOVE LOST & FOUND
DANGEROUS LOVE, LOST & FOUND
FIRST & TEN SERIES
GRIFF MONTGOMERY, QUARTERBACK
BUDDY CARRUTHERS, WIDE RECEIVER
PETE SEBASTIAN, COACH
DEVON DRAKE, CORNERBACK
THE MANHATTAN DINNER CLUB
RESCUE MY HEART
SEDUCING HIS HEART
SHINE YOUR LOVE ON ME
TO LOVE OR NOT TO LOVE
HOLLYWOOD HEARTS SERIES
IF I LOVED YOU
RED CARPET ROMANCE
MEMORIES OF LOVE
MOVIE LOVERS
LOVE’S LAST CHANCE
LOVERS & LIARS
His Leading Lady (Series Starter)
NOW AND FOREVER SERIES
NOW AND FOREVER 1, A LOVE STORY
NOW AND FOREVER 1, THE BOOK OF DANNY
NOW AND FOREVER 3, BLIND LOVE
NOW AND FOREVER 4, THE RENOVATED HEART
NOW AND FOREVER 5, LOVE’S JOURNEY
NOW AND FOREVER, CALLIE’S STORY(series starter)
MOONLIGHT SERIES
SUNNY DAYS, MOONLIT NIGHTS
APRIL’S KISS IN THE MOONLIGHT
UNDER THE MIDNIGHT MOON
SHORT STORY
SWEET LOVE REMEMBERED
Chapter One
It all started when Tuffer Demson, defensive linebacker for the Connecticut Kings, met his biological mother on Christmas Eve. They broke bread once a year, during the holidays. Tuffer met her at the diner at ten for breakfast. He called her by her given name, since he didn’t remember her ever being his mom. He had someone else he had called that for the past twenty-three years, and he liked it that way.
“Hi, Shayna,” he said, easing his six-foot-three-inch, linebacker body into the booth.
“Hi, yourself,” the blonde said. She eyed him up and down. “You’re looking good. Kings must be agreeing with you.”
“Yep.” These meetings were at her insistence. He could’ve cared less if he never saw her again. But his folks had taught him respect. Besides, it was only once a year.
“What’ll ya have?” the server asked.
Shayna always ordered a huge amount of food—the most expensive dishes too. A side of bacon and sausage with eggs Benedict. A large, fresh-squeezed orange juice. Maybe a sweet bun. She knew Tuffer’d pick up the check, and he always did. She didn’t make much as a waitress, and no one gets residuals on porno flicks, so he understood her need for a splurge—even if it was at her son’s expense.
In the beginning, he’d met with her hoping to find out who his father was. But Shayna had vowed never to reveal the man’s name.
“Think you’re going to the Super Bowl?” She added cream to her coffee.
“We’ve got a good shot.”
“You get a nice, fat bonus for winning, don’t you?”
He nodded and sipped his juice.
“A hundred grand?”
“Not quite that much.”
“Buy yourself a fancy car with that kind of money.”
“I don’t need a fancy car. My SUV is fine.”
“Sometimes, it’s hard to believe you’re my kid,” she said with a chuckle, shaking her head.
“My real mother and father don’t give a shit about stuff.”
Her eyes widened as if she’d been hit. “Got that right. They’re better ’an me. I know. That’s why I left you with them. I knew it’d be better for you.”
“Dumped me with them, you mean.”
“We’ve been over this a hundred times. Do we have to go over it again?”
The server brought their food. There was hardly enough room on the table for all that Shayna had ordered.
“Just be honest. You dumped me because it was good for you, not for me,” said Tuffer.
“I coulda left you at the police station. I picked a nice couple. Ran a preschool. Good with kids. You liked them. They liked you. Seemed like a good bet.”
“Good bet for who?”
“I was twenty. I wasn’t ready to be a mom.”
“And Bev Demson was?”
“Yeah. She told me about the car accident. That she couldn’t have kids. She was jealous I had you.”
“Mom has never been jealous of anyone a day in her life.”
“Yeah? Well, she was jealous of me. She wanted you.” Shayna cut a piece of the Benedict with her fork and put it in her mouth.
Tuffer pushed around the scrambled eggs on his plate. He hated going over this again, but he refused to let her weasel out of the truth.
“They used the lawsuit money to start the school. But she wanted one of her own. And you were it. It was perfect.”
“Perfect for everyone except me.”
“Haven’t you been happy? Bev and Ralph are great parents. A shitload better than I could’ve been.” She picked up a piece of bacon.
He couldn’t deny her words. If he couldn’t have his biological parents, Bev and Ralph Demson were the next best thing. They’d given him everything, made sacrifices, never complained, and treated him like a prince.
“What about my father? Why didn’t he take me?”
“I told you. We’re not talking about him.”
Tuffer banged his fist on the table. The dishes jumped, and the coffee sloshed over the sides of the mugs. Fear flashed across Shayna’s face.
“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna hit you. I don’t hit women.”
“Scared the fuckin’ crap outta me.”
“Nice talk.”
“You do it.”
“I’m a guy.”
“Chauvinist.”
That made him laugh. Sometimes, his mother said or did something that struck him as funny. He figured it must be their biological connection. He had her blond hair, but hazel e
yes. She had blue. It made the young man crazy that Shayna never spoke about Tuffer’s real father.
Every year at Christmas, Tuffer had wished to meet him. But it had never happened, so by college, he had given up.
“How are Bev and Ralph?” Shayna asked.
“Fine.”
“Spending Christmas with them?”
“They’re coming tonight.”
“Nice. You got a tree?”
“My girlfriend helped decorate it.”
“Girlfriend? You’re getting laid. That’s good. Big guy like you.”
“Shut up, Shayna.”
“Sorry, sorry. Yeah, moms don’t talk like that.”
“How would you know?”
“When are you going to stop torturing me for a mistake I made twenty years ago?”
He cast his glance down to his plate, where he scooped up a forkful of eggs.
“I’m sorry, Tuffer. I don’t know how many times I have to say it for you to believe me. I’m sorry I left you. But it would have been terrible for you to come with me. I’m glad I didn’t have an abortion, like your father wanted. Look at what a great guy you are. Successful. Nice. With a girlfriend. I’m proud of you.” Tears clouded her eyes.
His heart softened. She had given him life, and she had left him with two people who were the best parents in the world. He had to give her credit for that.
He took her hand. “Don’t cry. You did the best you could. Let’s not talk about it anymore.”
“Fine with me.” She slipped her fingers from his to wipe her eyes.
The waitress refilled their coffee mugs. Shayna finished her food in silence.
Tuffer pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket. “Here. Merry Christmas,” he said. Inside was a check for a thousand dollars. Once he’d signed with the Kings, he’d had money to burn.
Her eyes lit up. She ripped it open and smiled. “Thanks, hon. Very generous of you. I can use it. Rent’s overdue.”
He polished off the last bite and called for the check.
“I’ve got something for you this year.”
“Yeah? What?”
She glanced out the window then faced him. While waiting for her answer, he paid for their meal.
“It’s outside,” Shayna announced.
“My present?”
“Yep.”
“Where?” He looked out and didn’t see anything except a couple of cars in the parking lot and a man standing next to a silver Mercedes.
She pointed to him. “That guy.”
“What about him?”
“He’s your father. Rusty Fowler. He played for the Nebraska Huskers.”
Chapter Two
Tuffer’s heart beat so fast, he thought he was having a heart attack. “Him?”
“Yep. He wanted to see you. I said ‘okay.’ You don’t have to go out there, if you don’t want to. That was the deal I made with him.”
“You’ve kept in touch all these years?”
She shook her head. “With that rat? Nope. But I figured you had some questions needed answers. He was easy enough to find. He’s coaching at a high school in Lincoln.”
“What’s he doing here?”
“Dunno. Can’t imagine what lie he came up with for his wife.”
“His wife?”
“He was married when I got pregnant. Hey, I’m not proud of that, but it’s the truth.”
“That’s why he didn’t come forward?”
Shayna nodded. “And wanted me to get rid of you. Figured Lurlene wouldn’t understand how you got here. He was probably right. Expensive, public divorce. Last thing he wanted. And he sure as hell didn’t want to marry me.”
“You didn’t do it,” he muttered, more to himself than her.
“Get rid of you? Hell, no! You’re my kid. I took the money from him and skipped out. Went home to my folks.”
Tuffer barely heard her. This part of the story he already knew. His head wanted to run outside, but his feet seemed glued to the floor.
“Don’t be afraid, Tuffer. He can’t hurt you now. You’re a grown man.”
“Why did he want to see me?”
She shrugged. “You’ll have to ask him. I hope you’re not mad.”
“Thank you. For bringing him here.” Tuffer leaned over to kiss her cheek then pushed out of the booth and headed for the door.
The man shifted his weight as Tuffer approached. What do you say to a guy you’ve never met who’s supposed to be your father? The stranger extended his hand.
Looking at his face was like looking in the mirror for Tuffer. The shape of the jaw, the length of the nose, and those hazel eyes. The man’s hair was darker—“dirty blond,” they called it, dusted with a little gray. But he was about Tuffer’s height, maybe an inch shorter.
“Hey, Tuffer. I’m Rusty Fowler. Your dad.”
The footballer accepted the shake. The silence grew awkward.
“Nice to meet you. Finally,” Tuff spat out, to fill the heavy air.
“I know, it’s about time.”
“You took the words right out of my mouth,” the linebacker said, narrowing his eyes at the older man.
Rusty raised his palm. “Look. Before you deck me, let me explain.”
Tuffer rested back on his heels for a moment.
“Can we take a walk? Do you have time?”
“I can give you an hour.”
“That’s all I need.”
The men headed for the snowy woods behind the diner. Someone had tamped down a path of hard snow that crunched under their feet.
“I’ve watched you play. You’re a fine defenseman,” Rusty said.
“It was you! I wondered where I’d seen you before. You’re the guy. The stalker. Who showed up at the games in college. Aren’t you?”
“I didn’t make them all. Just a few. Mostly away games near Nebraska. It was hard to sneak away.”
“Lying to your wife?”
“You know I’m married?” Rusty’s face reddened.
“Shayna told me.”
“Shayna? That’s what you call her?”
“I have a mom and dad. Bev and Ralph Demson.”
“Oh, yeah. She told me about that.”
“You’ve been in touch with her this whole time?”
“No, no. Only in the last month or so. She looked me up. We’ve met a couple of times.”
“Then, how did you know about me?”
“I was a pro too. I’ve kept up with college football. Hell, when a player who looked just like me was breaking records as a defenseman, well, you’d have to be pretty stupid not to know you were my kid.”
“I’m not your kid. Let’s get that straight. Ralph Demson is my father. You’re a complete stranger.”
The man’s brow wrinkled. “True, true. I’m sorry.”
The wind picked up. Tuffer popped up the collar of his coat. Jamming his hands in his pockets kept his fingers warm. Anger burst forth inside him, warming his chest.
He faced Rusty. “Why did you do it? Why did you leave Shayna? Let her fend for herself? Why didn’t you help her? Or me? You must have been making a bundle. Shayna’s been scraping by for years. Do you know what she’s had to do to get along? Didn’t you feel anything for her…or me?”
“Sure I did. But I was in a tough position. Being married. And I know Lurlene would never have liked the idea of me having a bastard son, or Shayna, or any of it.”
“Messy, expensive divorce?” Tuffer raised his voice.
Rusty blushed. “I’m ashamed to admit it. Yes.”
Tuffer pushed ahead, ducking under some branches, shoving others away.
“Wait! Wait. Please, let me explain.”
“There’s nothing to say. You deserted us. Abandoned us. Then forced my mother, Shayna, to abandon me and live like a whore.”
“I was wrong. I was selfish. I admit it. I had no idea what I was giving up.”
“Now, you’d like to have a son who plays pro ball for the Kings?”
Ru
sty nodded.
Anger rose, heating Tuff’s neck all the way to his ears. “Honestly, I could kill you right here with my bare hands.”
The older man stepped back, and fear flashed in his eyes for a moment.
“You truly are a piece of shit. What makes you think I want anything to do with you?”
“I guess you don’t.”
“Got that right.” Tuffer turned around, heading back to the parking lot. “If that’s what you came all this way for, you’ve wasted your time.”
“Son, please. We have so much in common—”
“Don’t call me that.”
“We do. We look alike. Pro ball. I can help you. Please, let me.”
“And what will you tell your wife? Who will I be? A cousin? A nephew?” Tuffer spat on the ground at Rusty’s feet. “Go fuck yourself.”
“I’ll tell her the truth. She’ll never leave me now.”
“I don’t need your help. I have a great father. He threw a ball with me when I was a kid, taught me to ride a bike, went to bat for me with school. He helped me pick colleges and drove me around the country to interviews. He didn’t have much, but found a way to send me to football camp every summer. He made a ton of sacrifices for me. He gave me a life.”
“But he can’t help you anymore. I can. I have contacts.”
“I don’t give a shit about your contacts. I don’t need your help. I’m doing just fine on my own. And my dad…well, you don’t get it. He’s there for me, sick or well, rich or poor. He’s my father.”
Rusty thrust a business card in Tuffer’s palm. “Here. In case you change your mind.”
“I won’t. You can’t make up for everything. You wanted to have me aborted. You paid Shayna to do it.”
“I know,” Rusty said, hanging his head, avoiding Tuffer’s glare. “I’m ashamed. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was stupid. Scared. I’m so sorry.”
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