Sports Royalty: Zero

Carl Morgan was a debonair bachelor, a gambler, a ladies’ man, and completely unprepared for the sight before him. Three little kids in descending height and age stared back at him with wide expectant expressions.

Ages Twelve, Ten, and Eight they were his sister’s kids.

Two nephews and a niece his assistant Linda held the delegated task to buy birthday and holidays gifts for. Kids he saw a few times a year bearing fancy gifts for holidays.

That was about to change.

Thanks to the chartered plane crash his sister and her husband were gone. Leaving adventurous thirty-year-old Carl the guardian for their offspring.

Frustrated by the notion and emotionally devastated by the loss Carl balled up the document left by his attorney. And tossed it across the wide room with a gruff grunt when he failed to aim for the sleek garbage can.

The oldest Steven shot him a scowl, then quickly schooled his features into an unreadable expression. Carl wondered if he had scared the boy but before he could ask. The youngest - Sophia - chimed in “Mom was right. Uncle Carl is a pig!”

The middle one - Jude - placed a finger over her lips. “Don’t be rude, he is the only family we have left Soph.”

The girl bent down and picked the paper off the floor binning it herself. Carl caught sight of her undies under her crisp white short fluffy dress. “Well, I’ll be damned. You have a bow on your butt.” He muttered out loud, amusement playing on his tone.

His niece turned with a delicate adorable frown on her face. “And you have a foul tongue Uncle Carl!” The eight-year-old spat.

“It’s Carl and damn right I do. Anyone got a problem with that?” He asked sweeping his daring and tired gaze to all four faces in the room.

The boys shook their heads immediately; clearly understanding the value of staying on his good side. As a businessman, Carl liked the indication that they could hold up easy intelligence in a bad situation. On that same note, he also worried about how he’d handle them as they got older and more intelligent. Smart kids were always the worst. He knew their deception all too well, granted that he'd been a kid once too.

“If you want to curse does that mean I’m allowed to do or say what I want too?” Sophie faced him. Hands on her hips, a determined tilt to her chin. She obviously had gumption, it made him smile. Intelligence, composure, and spirit, he could see his sister and her husband in all of them.

“Depends on what it is you want to do,” Carl said rolling up the sleeves of his Vince Mulago shirt up to his elbows.

“Ditch the dress.” she didn't even hesitate.

Carl laughed maybe this parenting thing wasn’t so hard after all he thought to himself. “That can be arranged.”

Jude and Steven rolled their eyes and muttered. “Tomboy.”

“Am not!” Sophie cried with a stomp.

“Stop acting like a child Soph.” Jude patronized and Steven agreed.

“You...you...you’re all stupid adults,” Sophie whined crying with easy tears. The same way his sister used to get him in trouble when they were kids, growing up.

“Watch your mouth, Sophie!” Steve the oldest pointed a chiding finger at her.

She cried louder.

“Shh Sophie, behave please.” Jude the middle one pleaded, already on his knees wiping away her tears.

She let herself fall on the tiled floor, rolling on it, and wailed at an even louder pitch.

Carl Morgan sat back in his chair, elbows neatly resting on the leather chair’s Louis Vuitton armrest. A laugh of amusement escaped his lips as he did nothing to help. Or stop the kids from crying and arguing amongst themselves.

Linda his twenty-five-year-old assistant stood beside him. A hand on the back of his chair as she too laughed with him. “Are you ready for this Carl?”

Their eyes met and words passed between them through their gazes.

That was fifteen years ago.