Stephanie Doyle - Betting On The Rookie

It was like he was gone. Finally gone after all this time.

One hard crack of his hand against her face with an intent to inflict pain. Maybe it shouldn’t have meant so much. Or had such an impact on her life. Yet it did.

Sam would be thrilled if that night no longer held any power over her. That she was finally ready to let it go and move on.

“Hey there, did we lose you?” Evan nudged her with his elbow.

Sam blinked. “Sorry, woolgathering.”

“I was just wondering if you were taking on any more clients,” Jocelyn asked.

“That’s the plan, but for right now, Evan is my one and only.” In a somewhat spontaneous moment, Sam reached over and grabbed his chin to give it a little shake. “Look at this moneymaker. Is that not the face of the next Captain America?”

“Maybe that’s your opinion because you like it so much,” Evan murmured.

She did like his face, she thought, as she pulled her hand away from his chin, letting her fingers linger over the hint of stubble that had grown since he’d shaved.

She couldn’t look away.

Suddenly it was just the two of them in the booth, with the electricity arcing between them.

Sam forced herself to break from his gaze and smiled way too widely. “Dessert, anyone?”

She turned to look for their waiter, desperate for the distraction. Instead of the young man who had been waiting on them all evening, a woman Sam would put in her late twenties was heading to their table with a young child in tow.

Sam could hear the boy, maybe six or seven, wheezing a little.

“Kelly?” Evan said. As if she was the last person he might expect to be here in this time and this place.

Sam turned to look at his expression and she could read his confusion.

Kelly. Kelly Lawson. His college girlfriend?

“I’m sorry to do this to you, Evan. I’ve been trying to find you and ran into someone down at the stadium who said you were here with the owner and...”

“Kelly, what are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in seven years. My father said you called him the other day. I had no idea why.”

“I needed to find you,” she said again. Then she pushed the little boy in front of her. “Evan, this is Connor.”

“Hi, Connor,” Evan said with a small wave and a smile. Like the scene happening in front of all of them was completely normal.

It was when Sam looked over to Pete and Jocelyn to get their reaction that it started to click in. The couple was exchanging a look that said what was about to happen next was not going to be good.

But it couldn’t be bad, could it? After all, this was Evan Tanner. Kelly was the girlfriend Sam hadn’t been able to get in touch with. But Evan had said she would have nothing but good things to say about him.

Because he had loved her.

“I’m really sorry, Evan. I’m really sorry to do it this way, but I have no choice.”

“Spit it out, Kell,” Evan said, his voice a little flatter.

Kelly crouched down so that she was at eye level with her son. “Connor, could you go wait for Mommy in the lobby? Stay by that man with the menus. I won’t be long.”

The child did as instructed without protest, and Kelly clearly waited until he was out of earshot to say what she wanted to say.

“Connor...he’s your son. He’s your son, and he’s sick. I need your help.”

Yep, Sam thought. That sounded about right for her luck.

Captain America turned into a delinquent baby daddy right in front of her eyes.

“I think we’ll skip dessert,” Sam said in the void of silence.

* * *

“WHY ARE YOU doing this, Kell? You need help, I’ll help you,” Evan said, trying not to look at the kid who was sitting in the passenger seat of the cheap sedan Kelly said was her car. Equally, he was trying not to look over at Sam who was patiently waiting, leaning against the hood of his truck. He was, after all, her ride home.

“It’s the truth, Evan. Do the math. We were together that last semester in college at the end of May, and Connor was born in January. The thirteenth to be precise.”

“And that’s it? I’m supposed to believe, because the numbers sort of work, that you chose—after learning you were pregnant—to keep the baby, never tell me and wait seven years before dropping this bomb on me. Sorry, it doesn’t compute. First of all, you were adamantly pro-choice. If you didn’t want the baby, you would have aborted it.”

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