Las Vegas Sidewinders: Karl (Book 3) (28 page)

Karl paced the guest
lounge at the ESPN studios impatiently. Lonnie Finch had called a few people
and discovered that Ken Lerner would be in the studio today, and Karl’s agent
had gotten the studios to agree to tape an interview under the guise that he
was going to be in Connecticut anyway. He’d done his interview earlier, and now
was just making excuses, talking to random people and finding reasons to mill
about, hoping he would run into the man who’d given him life but hadn’t wanted
to be a part of it. He knew there would probably be nothing good that would
come of this conversation, but he needed to have it. He needed this man to know
what he’d given up, what he’d left behind.

Internet research told
him that he was divorced, his children were grown, and his only son played
Junior hockey but had never been good enough to play professionally. There
wasn’t much more about his father’s personal life, but he’d had a good career
in the NHL and now he worked for the St. Louis Blues’ organization as a scout.

“There you are!” A
young, pretty intern smiled at him as she came into the room looking harried.
“I’m so glad you didn’t leave—Ken Lerner asked if you’d like to have lunch with
him while he gets ready for his spot? He heard you were here and wanted to meet
you.” She was blinking up at him expectantly, and for a moment Karl didn’t know
what to say.

Caught off guard, he
hesitated before finally forcing a smile. “Oh, yeah, that would be great.” He
followed the bustling young woman and realized with dismay that he hadn’t even
noticed her cute little ass or long legs; he was totally and completely
enamored with his wife and it made him chuckle to himself.

She glanced back over
her shoulder. “Did you say something?” she asked, pushing her glasses back up
on her nose.

“No.” He shook his
head. “I was just thinking about something my wife told me.”

She gave him a
brilliant smile that made him think that some lucky man was going to fall in love
with that smile one day. “That’s nice—at the rate I’m going, I’m probably going
to be the crazy cat lady in ten years!”

“I think you’re a
little young for that,” he said.

She shrugged. “I’ve
been working 80-hour weeks for two years—I can’t remember the last time I had a
date.”

“Well, if you’re ever
looking for one, let me know. I’ve got about five single friends who would
probably really like you.”

She flushed. “Thank
you—that’s very nice. Most of the athletes who come through here don’t even
notice me, much less talk to me. Unless they’re trying to get in my pants.” She
rolled her eyes.

Karl smiled. “Once you
fall in love and get married, it kind of changes your perspective.”

She opened a door and
motioned with her hand. “Enjoy your lunch, Mr.
Martensson
.”

“Karl,” he said
lightly.

“Karl.” She nodded and
stepped out, closing the door behind her.

“Karl
Martensson
.” Ken Lerner stood up and smiled, holding out
his hand. “I’m Ken Lerner.”

“Nice to meet you.”
Karl had to breathe deeply so he could smile and shake the man’s hand. It was
almost like looking in a mirror, even though he had somewhat different
features. They were built exactly the same, with broad shoulders, slim hips and
long legs. They had the same hands too, Karl noticed, with long fingers and nail
beds.

“I’ve been a fan for a
long time,” Ken said, sitting back down. “I had my eye on you the year you were
drafted, but Detroit got to you first.”

“Detroit is a great
team,” Karl said, sitting across from him. “I loved playing there.”

“And now you’re in Las
Vegas. Is that a cluster-fuck or what?”

“Actually, it’s been
amazing,” Karl shrugged. “Great organization, stellar teammates—”

“Come on,” Ken
interrupted. “I played the game, and I know the players. You’re enjoying
playing with
Rousch
?”

Karl chuckled. “Marco
is probably the exception to every rule in Vegas. Other than dealing with him,
it was one of the best years of my career. Coach Barnett is incredible, and
I’ve gotten close to several teammates. I love it there.”

“So that stuff about
the SHL earlier this summer was really just bullshit?”

Karl nodded.
“Absolutely. Played a pickup game with some buddies in Sweden, made some drunk
comments about missing playing with them, and before you know it, I’m leaving
the NHL and moving back to Sweden.” He laughed. “Complete bullshit.”

“Shame. I was going to
offer you a spot in St. Louis.”

Karl shook his head.
“That’s flattering, but I’m good in Las Vegas. Also, I just got married, and I
know my wife doesn’t want to move again. She already left New York to come to
Las Vegas. If I told her we were moving to St. Louis, she might kill me.”

“Hockey wives adapt or
they wind up divorced.”

“My wife is amazing and
she would absolutely adapt—I just don’t want her to have to. Especially after
what I inadvertently put her through when my ex hacked my Twitter account.”

“Oh, that
#
nomorefatties
thing,” Ken nodded. “That was
unfortunate. Exes can be a pain in the ass.”

“Except when they
disappear quietly into the night and have your kid and let another man raise
him.” Karl hadn’t meant to say it that way, but the words came out before he
could control them.

Ken blinked, cocking
his head slightly. “Speaking from experience?”

Karl snorted.
“Actually, I’m speaking from
your
experience.”

Ken frowned. “I’m not
sure I understand.”

Karl dug in his pocket
and pulled out a picture his mother had sent him. It was of her and Ken, arms
around each other, laughing at some secret only they would know. He stared at
it for a moment and then handed it to him. “Do you remember her?”

Ken pulled glasses from
his pocket and looked down at the picture. For a moment his whole face changed,
softened into something Karl couldn’t quite identify, and then he schooled his
features and handed it back to him. “That was a long time ago. I don’t even
remember her name.”

“You spent three months
with her and got her pregnant, but you don’t remember her name?” Karl narrowed
his eyes slightly. “I call bullshit.”

“Look, Karl, I’m not
sure where you got that or how—”

“She’s my mother.” Karl
sat back and watched the other man as myriad emotions crossed his face;
embarrassment, anger, and then more slowly, understanding. His head snapped up
and he frowned, a look of utter disbelief on his face.

“You’re not trying to
tell me—”

“I’m not
trying
to tell you anything. I’m saying it outright—you’re my father. And before you
start denying it and making excuses, I’m rich, successful and happy. I had a
great childhood and a fabulous man raised me. I don’t need shit from you.”

“Then why did you tell
me?” Ken’s blue eyes darkened with something that might have been annoyance but
almost looked like fear.

“Because I wanted to
know how a man walks away from a woman like that and, despite the fact that you
were already married, doesn’t want to know his son?”

“I didn’t know she had
a baby!” he protested. “I never heard from or saw Anya again.”

“So you
do
remember her name.”

“Of course I remember
her name!” he snapped. “I loved her! But my wife was sick and I had four kids
at home. I found out she had cancer the night before I left Sweden. We’d
separated before I left for the summer; we wanted to take some time to figure
out if we wanted to stay together. I was going to bring Anya back to the U.S.
with me, but then Mary called and told me she had cancer. I didn’t have a
choice—I did the best I could.”

“But she survived.”

“Yes.” He nodded. “And
five years later we got divorced anyway. I was too embarrassed to go looking
for your mom, and like I said, I didn’t know she had a baby.” He swallowed. “I
would have at least sent money and seen you on the off-season if I had known,
Karl. I’m not a saint, but I can’t be blamed for something I had no idea
about.”

“Fair enough.” Karl
stood up. “Well, I guess we can skip lunch. I’m—”

“Wait.” Ken stood up
too and the men stood eye to eye. “I, could we, I mean, I’d like to have lunch
anyway. Spend a little time getting to know you. I’m not going to try to be
your father at this stage in your life, but we could talk.” He paused, running
his hand through his thinning blond hair. “I didn’t know, Karl. I told her to
call me if she needed anything—she had my number.”

Karl was surprised; his
mother hadn’t told him that. “I didn’t know that. But anyway, she’s a strong,
proud woman. She wouldn’t have called you unless I needed a bone marrow donor
or something.”

Ken sat down again and
they were silent as a couple of runners began bringing in lunch. Karl sat too,
not sure what else he could do. This had not gone the way he’d planned, but now
that he was here it seemed prudent to at least take advantage of this opportunity
to know the man.

“So, how is Anya?”

“She had a rough year,”
Karl admitted. “Breast cancer that spread to the lymph nodes. That’s how all
that bullshit with my ex started. I was in Sweden the first part of the summer
spending time with my mom.”

“Is she okay now?”

“She’s finished chemo
and starting radiation, and then we’ll wait for the next scans to see what’s
what.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, it’s been hard.
She’s always been my rock.”

“How old were you when
she got married?”

“She was still
pregnant.” He told him as much as he knew without getting too personal. He
talked about the twins and his hockey career. “And you were my hero growing
up,” he sighed. “That must have killed Mom, seeing me wearing your jersey and
talking about you all the time.”

Ken nodded miserably,
his blue eyes shrouded with something that almost looked like pain. “I loved
her, Karl, but when Mary got sick… I had four kids and the medical expenses
were just crippling. I thought Anya would be better off with someone who would
take care of her. I didn’t want her to be my secret lover while I took care of
my sick wife.” He sighed. “Damn, I’m sorry, son.”

Karl shrugged. “It is
what it is. Mom made the choice not to tell you—she didn’t even tell me. I
found out by accident.”

“So your dad, the man
who raised you, is a good man?”

Karl nodded again. “He
was great growing up, though he’s gotten a little weird since I found out he’s
not my biological father.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.” Karl
picked at the piece of chicken in front of him.

“I would do anything to
make this up to you—both of you,” Ken said after a moment. “I missed her, but I
thought I was doing right by my family.”

“I can understand
that.”

“If you ever need
anything—either of you, you just have to ask.”

Karl laughed sadly. “If
you could marry her and give her your health insurance, so I can bring her here
and continue her care without breaking the bank that would be optimal.”

“I would do that.” Ken
met his son’s eyes squarely and Karl blinked.

“Uh, what? I wasn’t serious—I
mean, I would love to have my mom here, but she’s still married…”

“If that’s what you
want—or what she needs—I’ll do whatever it takes. I abandoned her nearly 30
years ago, so I won’t do it again.”

“There’s no one in your
life?” Karl asked quietly.

Ken sighed. “Nah. I had
two great loves in my life—Mary and Anya. Mary and I were too young when we
fell in love in high school, and we grew apart. Anya was at the wrong time in
my life, and by the time I went looking for her, she seemed happily married. I
wasn’t going to fuck up her life again.”

“You looked for her?”
Karl asked in surprise.

“A couple of years
later. I saw her in the square near the pub where we met. She was with a tall, redheaded
guy and very pregnant. She looked happy, laughing with friends…” His voice
trailed off. “I decided to leave it be.”

“You shouldn’t have,”
Karl said softly. “I don’t think she ever got over you.”

“I thought you said she
was happy?”

“She was. But after she
got sick, I noticed the strain in their marriage, and how jealous my father is
of my success. Their kids, the twins, have struggled with everything, but it
all came kind of easy to me.”

“I guess I’m sorry
about that, too.”

“You don’t have to
apologize anymore,” Karl said. “You made a mistake, but she should have told
you there was a baby. She made her choice and you made yours. I guess you both
have to live with it.”

“I know I do.” He
glanced at his watch. “I have 20 minutes. Tell me about your wife.”