Page 10 of Home Ice

I don’t want to turn my back on them, but since I’m blocking the door, I have to go first. They follow me into the living room, where the blinds have been left open and the cozy space feels welcoming.

It’s hard to work out how I feel about any of this when I’m under a microscope, and I keep going back to the safety net reminder that this visit means nothing. I have no obligation. Amelia wants him. Everything will turn out okay.

Mom disappears to grab the food she prepared while Dad takes his armchair, Gigi sits on the floor, and I drag an ottoman closer to the table to free up the couch for Amelia and Kasen. Technically, I could have fit on it too, but I’m not ready for that yet.

Once everyone’s settled, it’s like a standoff to see who will talk first. It’s not that I don’t want to; it’s that I have too many questions to know where to start.

Gigi’s the one who breaks the silence. “We’re really sorry,” she says. “For your loss. I can’t imagine …”

Amelia drags in a shaky inhale, while Kasen goes on staring at the floor.

“This is obviously awkward for all of us, but we have to start somewhere, right?”

“Right,” I agree, trying to sound like I’m not at all shitting myself. “This is the … weirdest situation I’ve ever found myself in.” Weird is probably not the most accurate word, but I’m not sure I can say “complete and total mindfuck” in front of a kid. “I’m usually a lot more talkative than this, but I’m still trying to process, well, you know.” I pathetically wave a hand Kasen’s way. I’m pretty sure I’m fucking this whole thing up, but I’ve lost control of myself.

“The resemblance is uncanny,” Gigi mutters. “Don’t you think?”

I take a breath, wondering if Kasen will look at me again. He doesn’t. “Yeah, it’s …” Like the reality has finally sunk in, I say, “He’s definitely my son.”

I’m not sure if there’s a hint of disappointment or defeat there, but it doesn’t sound the way it did in my head.

Kasen snorts.

“That’s enough,” Amelia murmurs.

He falls back onto the couch, arms crossed tight over his chest.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“He’s having a rough time right now.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Kasen grumbles, and like before, it’s hard to wrap my head around. It’s deeper than I was expecting, but obviously hasn’t broken yet, leaving him with an uneven rasp.

“He’s allowed to be angry,” I say without thinking.

“I know that.” Her gentle reprimand puts me back in my place. He might be my son because of genetics, but I’m a complete stranger.

And if Amelia gets her way, that’s how it will stay.

Which should be a good thing. I think. She’s been there for him through his whole life, and what kind of care can I give when I’m on the road for eight months out of the year? My life is fucking awesome, and I don’t think I’m ready for that to change, but being here, seeing him, something isn’t sitting right. I have so many questions bottled up, but I’m not comfortable enough around Amelia to ask them.

She goes to say something again, but I cut her off.

“Look, I appreciate that we have everyone’s support, but I’m going to be honest, I don’t think this is something that should have an audience.”

“What?” Amelia asks, confused. “We’re here to figure out the custody logistics.”

Right. Yes. That. But also … Kasen still won’t look at me, and I don’t think his attitude comes completely from losing his mom. I’m pretty sure a lot of it is directed at me, and the least I can do before willingly handing him over is make sure the air is clear between us.

“I was hoping to talk to Kasen first though.”

Amelia stiffens, eyes darting toward the kid, but it’s not like she can say no. “You can talk.”

“Alone.”

“I don’t think⁠—”

“Fine,” Kasen mutters. Then he stands and crosses the room, and it takes me a second to realize I’m supposed to follow him. I scramble from my chair like a sack of uncoordinated limbs.