Huddle Up by Liz Matis

want to hear a joke?” Gabby asked.
    “Of course, we do,” Miller responded.
    “Knock, knock.”
    “Who’s there?” Terell asked.
    “Gabriela.” She played with the frilly hem of her dress.
    “Gabriela who?” This time it was Miller.
    “Gabriela O’Malley Burner,” she said in a rush. She broke into a fit of giggles like it was the funniest joke in the universe.
    The three men joined in with raucous laughter. But it wasn’t lost on Billy that she added his last name. He gave her a kiss on the cheek. As he got up, he shifted her from his lap to his hip. “I have a cookie with your name on it.”
    Angel didn’t have to know. The special occasion dessert rule was ridiculous. Anyway, watching a football game was a special occasion. What damage could the occasional cookie or two do?
    Once in the kitchen he handed a cookie to Gabby, but instead of gobbling it up, she tilted her head and examined both sides. “Where’s my name?”
    Did all five-year olds take things so literally? Gabriela O’Malley Burner. He wanted it to be legal. Realizing he hadn’t uttered the words yet, though he felt them with all his heart, he said, “I love you, Gabby.”
    “I love you too, Daddy.” She planted a kiss on his cheek before taking a big bite of the cookie.
    I love you, you love me. Just like that. So easy. So simple. So why hadn’t he said it to Angel yet? He certainly showed his love. In many ways, in and out of the bedroom.
    “Touchdown!” Jake’s shout from the living room echoed through the apartment.
    The bet. He showed his love, except, for when it counted. Except, for when it mattered most.
    So what if she was being unreasonable? So what if he looked like a pussy for backing out of the bet? He denied her the one thing she needed to feel safe. All the money he had couldn’t do that. Only Billy could.
    Tonight, he’d tell Angel he was sorry and mean it. Tell her he was in love with her. Tell her he wanted it be official.
    Angel O’Malley Burner. His future wife. His forever love.
    *
    After his teammates left, Billy prepared dinner while Gabby played in her room with the elusive Lucy. The only evidence of the cat’s existence was the occasional present on the carpet and Billy’s own occasional sneezes.
    Just as he put the roast in the oven, the doorman called. His father was downstairs. He should’ve known this was coming. After the story hit the papers of his ‘long-lost’ daughter he had called his father to break the news. He didn’t take it well. “Send him up.”
    Fearing Gabby might overhear something she shouldn’t, Billy met him outside the apartment in the hallway. “Why the sudden visit, Dad??
    Except for a bigger gut, his father looked like the same tank who’d come to blows with his seventeen-year-old son. By then Billy had already been taller. But now Billy had also packed on a professional athlete’s muscle. His father no longer intimidated him.
    “I came to talk some sense into you. Let’s go inside. I could use a beer.”
    “We need to talk here.” Billy peeked through the opening of the door to make sure Gabby hadn’t left her room.
    “Oh, I see. A model? Playmate?”
    “Neither.” Billy responded through clench teeth. “It’s my daughter.”
    “I knew it.” He raked his hand through a shorter version of his son’s. “That O’Malley bitch is trying to squeeze money out of you just like her old man did me.”
    Billy blinked as the realization dawn. “You paid off O’Malley to get rid of Angel?” Please God, don’t let it be true.
    “The five grand was well worth it. I wasn’t about to let you ruin your football career. O’Malley hit me up for another ten grand to put that tramp’s brat up for adoption.”
    Billy’s slammed his fist onto his father’s jaw. When the bastard hit the wall and slid to the carpet, he didn’t feel an ounce of remorse. “I knew you dreamed of having a son in the NFL, but that’s no excuse for what you did.
    “Blame O’Malley.”