“Wasn’t that great, Scout?” I say. “The way Dan won the game?”

“Yeah!” says Scout, her eyes wide. “He ran past all those guys!”

“There’s something I need to tell you,” I say. I’m not sure how to say it, so I just decide to blurt it out. It’s a strange feeling, not knowing how to approach a subject with my own daughter.

“What is it?” says Scout, a hot dog in her hand and a soda between her knees. She’s excited about the game, excited about being around all these people. They’re the types of people that she’s never met before, strange Philly characters in her eyes.

“Dan is your dad,” I say, just spilling the beans once and for all. Whatever her reaction, at least I’ve said it. I can’t carry this guilt around any longer. One down, two to go. What a horrible thought, but it’s true. The two people I care most about in the world. All I have left to do is tell Dan. Right after the game. Right after the game, I promise myself.

The moment seems frozen. Time seems to be moving slowly. I don’t know how my own daughter will react.

“Really?” she says, still smiling.

I nod my head. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,” I say.

“Wow! He’s my dad!”

She’s so excited that she doesn’t even ask me why or how this happened. She’s just peppering me with questions about when she can see him, and what he thinks about it.

“He doesn’t know yet,” I say.

“Are you going to tell him? When are you going to tell him?” Her eyes are shining with excitement.

“Right now,” I say. “Right after the game.”

He’s probably busy with the reporters who want to ask him a thousand dumb questions about how the game went and why he played the way he did.

I take Scout by the hand and we fight our way through the crowds. Dan’s surrounded by his teammates, his coach. I wave at him and he blows me a kiss, and he waves at Scout.

“Hi Dad,” yells Scout.

That really makes his eye pop. He gives us a very, very surprised look, like he doesn’t know what the hell’s going on, or he’s just seen a ghost.

Shit, this isn’t exactly the way I wanted it to go down.

But it seems like he’s not completely sure what happened, since there’s a ton of noise. Or maybe he thinks that Scout just yelled something to be funny, the way little kids sometimes do.

Dan starts pushing his way through his teammates, through the reporters, coming to see us.

His helmet is off, held in the crook of his arm. Sweat is pouring down his face, and he wipes it away.

“Hey there,” he says, smiling down at Scout. “Did you like the game?”

“Yes!” says Scout, practically bouncing out of her skin with excitement. At least for now she’s refraining from calling him “dad” again.

“You too?” he says, giving me a kiss on the cheek.

“You were great,” I say. “Dan, there’s something I need to tell you. I’m really not good with this, so I’m just going to blurt it out. Here it goes…” I pause, a big heavy pregnant pause. “Scout is your daughter.”

I suddenly realize I shouldn’t have done this with Scout present. This could create an awkward situation, to say the least.

His face is expressionless.

“That’s nice to know,” he finally says, but he doesn’t look at me. “What do you think about that, Scout, being my daughter?”

“You’re my dad!” says Scout, smiling up at him.

“Come here, Scout,” says Dan. “I wish I’d known.”

He takes her in his arms and picks her up, and gives her a big hug. A pained look of fatherly love is on his face.

But he still doesn’t look at me.

“I have to go,” he says, suddenly turning away. “I love you, Scout,” he says.

“I love you too, Dan, I mean Dad,” says Scout.

He doesn’t say anything to me, and he turns away and slips into the crowd, disappearing.

What just happened? He didn’t seem too pleased with me, but… He seemed to like the idea of being a dad. It was almost, though, as if he already knew, as if he was just waiting to hear it from me. That’s strange, and not what I was expecting.

“Come on, Scout,” I say. “It’s time to go.”

“But where’s Dan going?” she says, sounding worried.

“He’s got more football stuff to do,” I say. “He’s an important player on the team. And he’s got to do a lot of interviews and talk to the coach and everything.”

But I know it’s not true. I know he could be spending time with us if he wanted to.

Then again, it is a pretty big news hit I just gave him. Maybe he just needs time to recover. Maybe he just needs time to think.

I take Scout by the hand and lead her through the crowd. There’s no site of Dan, not at all. His huge body with his football gear and pads is gone, lost into the crowd. I’ll just have to give him time…