Tim Green - The Big Time

Troy turned his attention to the sound of his mother unfolding the paper.

"What is it?" Seth asked.

"Well, Troy," his mom said, rattling the paper with a sigh, "you got your wish; it's a lawsuit."

"What?" Troy asked.

"That was a process server," she said, nodding toward the dusty cloud in the driveway. "I'm being sued for custody, by your father."

Seth and John Marchiano both glanced at Troy, and he felt his face go warm.

"It's what you said he had to do," Troy said, angry that he felt ashamed.

She sighed and said, "Yes, I did."

"Well," John Marchiano said, "I'm off."

They all said good-bye. The agent offered a final, sad look, as if he knew something they didn't. Then he climbed into the rented Cadillac and followed the process server's trail of dust.

"So, I can see him?" Troy said as the dust settled, excitement creeping into his voice.

"I gave you my word," his mom said, sounding disappointed.

"Now?" Troy asked. "Can I call him? Can I see him?"

"Of course," his mom said quietly. She reached for Seth's hand, and they twined their fingers together. "But you tell him to knock it off now with the lawsuit."

The hopeless look she gave to Seth barely registered with Troy. He raced into the house and scooped up his mom's cell phone from the coffee table. Troy headed straight to his bedroom, where he could talk in private. Trembling, he took the card from its place beneath his mattress and dialed his father.

"Hello," Troy said, hesitant at the sound of his father's voice.

"Hey, Troy!" his father said, washing away all doubt with his enthusiasm. "She got it?"

"Yes, and I can see you."

"That's great," his father said. "You ready? I thought we'd get a big fat steak at Chops, but first I got a surprise that's going to knock you off your feet."

"Speaking of knocking," Troy said, "she wants you to knock it off with the lawsuit."

"Whatever it takes," he said.

"What surprise anyway?" Troy asked.

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise, would it?" his father asked. "I'll be by to get you in about twenty minutes. You got a bathing suit, right?"

"Sure," Troy said, now truly mystified.

"Okay," his father said, "bring it."

TROY CLUTCHED HIS ROLLED-UPbathing suit and pulled back the curtain to watch and wait. A heavy beam of late-day sun spilled through the glass, warming his cheek.

"You're not just running out there and taking off like a rocket, mister," his mom said. "He can come in and say hello and talk about some ground rules. This isn't a train station; it's our home."

Troy rolled his eyes. "Mom, please don't start with the ground rules."

"Don't you start, Troy," she said from her spot on the couch next to Seth. "You're twelve."

"How could I forget," Troy said, grumbling and turning his attention back to the window.

Over his shoulder, the clock on the wall wouldn't seem to move its hands. When the orange Porsche finally purred into the dirt patch, Troy swept aside the curtain. He pressed his face and hand against the warm glass. Troy's dad didn't even hesitate. He hopped out and vaulted up the steps in jeans, cowboy boots, and a silky button-down shirt. He pounded the door with three short, heavy knocks and stood there with his hair a wild tangle from the windy ride in the convertible.

"I'll get it," his mom said, pushing past Troy and swinging open the door.

"Drew," she said sarcastically, "what a surprise."

Troy's dad stepped inside, smoothed his hair, and wiped his feet.

"Good to see you, Tessa," he said, shaking her hand before he waved to Seth on the couch. "Seth."

He clasped Troy by the hand like a gladiator-instead of offering a formal shake-and pulled into a one-armed hug, clapping him on the back like a team-mate.

"My man," his father said, and Troy beamed with pride.

"Drew," Troy's mom said, her hands going to her hips, "your 'man' has school tomorrow. I know you want to get to know each other a little, but he needs to be home by ten and-"

"Ten?" Troy said, raising his voice.

Drew held up a hand, silencing Troy. Then, in a somber voice, he said, "Of course, Tessa. I appreciate the opportunity here. You've obviously done a great job raising Troy. I'm happy to play by your rules."

Troy watched his mom's face relax. She nodded and said, "Thank you."

"And I don't want a free ride on this either," Drew said to her with serious eyes. "I expect that part of our arrangement will mean me helping support Troy-food, clothes, college when it's time, including the expenses you've already had."

Troy's mom opened her mouth to speak, but her eyes flickered at him and she closed it instead. Troy couldn't keep from grinning.

"Well," Drew said, rubbing his hands together as if warming them at a fire, "lots to do and not much time. Let me get him going and-"

"Going where, by the way?" Troy's mom asked.

"Chops for a steak," Drew said.

"But the bathing suit?" Troy's mom said.

"For a swim."

"Drew, I know it's warm out for November, but you're not jumping off any railroad bridges or anything crazy like that, right?" his mom asked.

"Me?" he said.

"Like the old days, remember?" she asked with one eyebrow raised.

She turned to Troy and said, "If there was water, your father would be in it, even if he had to jump off a bridge to get there. If we were at the beach in Biloxi, he'd swim out a mile and back just to prove he could. Once he jumped out of a raft down the Alabama River and met us at the dock."

"No rapids," he said, laughing lightly. "Strictly indoor swimming, but I want to surprise him about where. Okay?"

"Sure," Troy's mom said, and he thought she might have even smiled a bit. "And, Drew, I know you and Troy have spoken about having you represent him, but I want you to work through me on that."

"Mom," Troy said, "Mr. Marchiano said-"

"I'm your mom," she said, cutting him off. "If you want Drew to work on this deal, he'll be working on it through me or not at all."

Troy grumbled until his father said, "That makes perfect sense."

"It does?" Troy asked, looking up at him.

"Hey," Drew said, his smile flashing, "I'm your dad, but she's your mom, Troy. You gotta listen to her."

Troy's mom tilted her head, gazed at his father, and said, "Thank you, Drew."

"You sound surprised, Tessa," Drew said. "If I was so bad, Troy wouldn't even be here, would he?"

Troy's mom shrugged and said, "I guess not. You two have fun."

Troy and his dad waved good-bye to Seth. Troy kissed his mom, and they were off, with the top down.

Wind screamed past Troy's ears as his father sped down Route 400 against the grain of the commuters all leaving the city at the end of the workday.

"It's fast!" Troy shouted.

"You like it?" his father asked, glancing at him, downshifting, swerving into another lane, and surging ahead with even more power and speed.

"I liked the way you handled my mom," Troy shouted.

His father nodded and grinned and said, "Plenty of practice."

"How long did you guys go out?"

"Two years," his father said, his voice cutting through the wind.

"Pretty serious, huh?" Troy said.

"Serious enough to know how to work right around her," Drew said.

"What do you mean?" Troy shouted, a feeling of uncertainty creeping into the thrill of the wind and speed.

"She says I work through her," his dad said with a shrug. "That's fine. She can say what she likes, but you and I know that I'm running this deal. I already got Seth Cole lined up to interview you. You know who that is?"

"Seth Cole? The owner of the Jets?" Troy said. "Everyone knows him; he's superrich."

"The perfect team for you," Drew said. "Seth Cole knows how to win, and he doesn't care how much it costs."