Child of Mine

by Beverly Lewis

  He steeled himself and asked her the question, the one to which he already had an answer. “Do you think Nattie is yours?”

  She cleared her throat and slowly shook her head. “I don’t know, Jack.”

  He frowned.

  “I really don’t,” she repeated.

  “How do you expect me to believe that?”

  Kelly wiped her eyes again, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. “I didn’t want to know.”

  Impossible, he thought. “So you’re telling me you didn’t test her?”

  Kelly made a face. “Actually . . . I did, Jack.” She shrugged and wiped her eyes, fishing a tissue out of her purse. “I have the envelope in the car. I never opened it. I couldn’t.”

  Jack leaned back, his heart pounding through his chest, unsure what to believe.

  Kelly scooted forward on the couch, close enough that their knees touched. “I was waiting for, I don’t know . . . permission, I guess.”

  “Kelly—”

  “I know, I know, Jack. I can’t expect you to trust me. And I don’t blame you.”

  She locked eyes with him again but just sat there, her hands still in her lap, waiting for him to continue. He repeated it, more a statement than a question. “You have the information, but you still don’t know whether she is yours.”

  She made to answer, then simply shook her head instead. The distrust must have shown on his face, because her eyes welled up with tears again, slipping down her cheeks.

  He crossed his arms, turning off his own emotion. “Let’s open it together,” he said flatly, although he already knew what her results would say. Kelly’s eyes were suddenly fierce and hopeful. She leaned forward again. “What if we didn’t open it?”

  He frowned at her.

  “What if we just threw it away?” she said, her eyes alight with the possibility. “What if . . . we just continued on like before?”

  He was stunned. “As if you hadn’t deliberately deceived me?”

  Kelly recoiled at his words but reached for his hand. “I don’t care anymore, Jack. I think we are good together, and it doesn’t matter. . . .”

  Jack was shaking his head, pulling his hand away.

  “I love you, Jack,” Kelly pressed. “And I know you love me.”

  “But this isn’t about us,” he said softly. “This is about Nattie.”

  Kelly went silent, the light in her eyes diminishing. After an awkward moment, she finally spoke. “Of course, Jack. It was . . . a silly idea. I’ll get it.”

  She pushed herself up and proceeded to go around him.

  Once she’d left, Jack realized he was now carrying on his own charade. He had his own test, and his own results, after all. And her results would surely confirm his.

  Now who’s lying?

  Kelly came back in, padding softly, and gently laid the envelope on his lap, sitting back on the couch, several feet from him. She stared at him, her eyes red.

  Quickly he opened the envelope, removed the page, and scanned to the bottom. The definitive phrase hit like a blow. He nearly dropped the envelope.

  Kelly didn’t say anything. She simply sat there, hugging herself, staring at the floor, waiting for him to say it out loud, as if doing the best she could to manage her emotions with dignity.

  Without speaking, he handed her the report. She took it and read it aloud. “This means it’s negative.” And then she smiled. “I’m relieved, Jack . . .”

  But she also seemed disappointed. Of course she was. On the other hand, he was confused. The result couldn’t be negative. Negative meant she wasn’t Nattie’s mother. But his test said the opposite.

  Kelly touched him again. The room swirled, and her words seemed to come out in a haze. “Can you forgive me, Jack?”

  Jack shook his head, the only response he could manage as his mind raced through the ramifications.

  She flinched but soon a kind of surrender finally settled over her. She practically crumpled in her seat.

  He should have come clean, right then and there. “I completed my own test,” he should have said, but right now, he just needed to think. Maybe her test was wrong. And maybe his was right. Hadn’t he already learned that DNA tests could be prone to error? Maybe Nattie was her daughter, after all.

  After a few moments of painful silence, Kelly stood up. She adjusted her purse and forced a pathetic smile.

  She was halfway to the door when she turned back. “I should have told you the truth. I realize that . . . but if I had, would you and I ever have had a chance?”

  “I guess we’ll never know,” he said.

  She hesitated, considering his answer. “May I say good-bye to Nattie?”

  Jack shook his head. “She’ll know. She’ll see it in your eyes. And I can’t do that to her.”

  Kelly nodded. “I truly wish you the best, Jack. I think you’re a special person, and I admire you. I did from the first day I met you. Please know, too, that I have grown to love Nattie, whether she’s mine or not. What I feel for you, and for her, has always been genuine.”

  With that she walked down the hall and out the door, shutting the door with a click that reverberated through him.

  Moments later, Jack heard her car buzz down the street while he sat at the couch, justifying his actions and shoving his guilt away. She was only trying to find her child.

  He was tempted to text her. I just need some time.

  But he was too confused to know what to do next. And he still couldn’t wrap his brain around what had just happened. Her test was negative, but his was positive.

  Determined to find an answer, he went to the office, removed the printout of his own report, and stared at it. There it was in bold letters: Sample A cannot be excluded. Which was the same thing as positive.

  He turned the page, to the second report, and found the opposite phrase, Sample B is excluded. Just as he had expected, which meant negative.

  And then it finally hit him. Sample B had to be Kelly’s hair.

  But Sample A . . .

  “Oh no,” he whispered.

  His heart thumping wildly, Jack placed the report back into the desk drawer and headed out to retrieve Nattie as the memory of his conversation with Laura flooded back, including her adamant response to his suggestion that Kelly might be Nattie’s mother. “No, Jack, she’s not.”

  And just exactly how could Laura have been so sure?

  Well, now he knew why.

  ———

  Holding the screen door open, Diane smiled graciously. “That was quick.”

  Jack thanked her, and Nattie came running, Livy strolling out after. Both girls now had matching French braids dangling down their backs, and Jack was grateful the teen had taken such an interest in his daughter.

  Nattie pulled on his sleeve. “Where does Kelly want to eat?”

  Livy laughed and tugged on Nattie’s braid. “That’s all I heard. Kelly this, and Kelly that.”

  Waving their good-byes, Jack led Nattie out the door to the truck. Keeping in step, Nattie noticed Kelly’s missing car and frowned. “Is she meeting us somewhere?”

  “It’s just us, sweetie.”

  Nattie stopped in her tracks. “Say what?”

  “She had to go home, honey.” He winced at his own exaggeration.

  Nattie didn’t move. “You have some ’splainin’ to do, Dad.”

  “Over dinner, okay?”

  She rolled her eyes. Jack waved toward the pickup. “On board, princess.”

  ———

  In the corner of McDonald’s, Nattie ate slowly, dipping her nuggets in barbecue sauce, her eyes smoldering. “Are you guys having a fight or something? I mean, you guys never fight.”

  Jack barely heard her.

  His cell phone was in his front pocket. He was tempted to text Kelly, ask for more time to get his head together. Sure, he still could be wrong, but he doubted it. The owner of Sample A—the hairs retrieved from the porch swing—had to be Nattie’s mother. And there was no doubt whom she
could be.

  In the meantime Nattie was staring at him, waiting for a reply to a question he hadn’t heard.

  “What, honey?”

  “Can I call her?” Nattie asked.

  Jack shook his head, and Nattie took another bite of her chicken. “Aren’t you going to keep her?”

  His phone began buzzing. He saw the name and breathed a sigh of relief at the irony. Laura.

  “Who is it?” Nattie asked.

  He told her and offered her the phone. “I’ll bet she wants to talk to you.”

  Quickly Nattie chewed the food in her mouth and wiped her fingers on her napkin. Jack made a face of mock impatience.

  “What?” Nattie protested. “I want to be presentable.” She took the phone and talked for a few minutes, then gave it back to Jack.

  He spoke into the receiver. “You should have seen Nattie perk up.”

  “She’s sounding good, jah?” Laura said.

  He gazed at Nattie. “She’s eating, and that’s always a good thing.”

  Nattie gave him a humorous frown and popped a chicken piece into her mouth, listening intently to Jack’s side of the conversation.

  “So . . . have you heard yet?” Laura asked, lowering her voice.

  Jack held out his index finger to Nattie—give me a minute—and wandered to the windows, outside the range of Nattie’s ears. “Yes, I did. . . .” He paused, not sure how to continue. “Actually, I need to see you.”

  She went silent, then her words came out hushed, as if she didn’t want anyone to hear her. “Is this about the lab results?”

  He ignored the question, considering his options. Jack didn’t want her to be able to walk away. And he didn’t want others listening in. So that left out public restaurants, parks, his house, or hers. He wanted to get her into his truck and keep her there until she revealed the truth and heard him out.

  “How about I pick you up tomorrow? I already checked with Diane—anything works for her.”

  He could hear Laura breathing and could imagine her twisting it over and over. “Okay, Jack. How ’bout three o’clock?”

  He hung up and sighed.

  Back at the table, Nattie flattened her nugget box with a fist, clearly frustrated. “You had to walk all the way over there to talk to Laura?”

  “Grown-up stuff.”

  “Someday I’ll be a grown-up, too, you know.”

  Jack pushed the remainder of his nuggets across the table to her. Nattie eyed them for a moment, appraising Jack’s Cheshire twinkle. She narrowed her eyes, weighing their value, giving him the business end of her glare. Finally she shrugged, giving in. She began squirreling them away, nibble by nibble, then said casually, midchomp, “Nuggets won’t always work, you know.”

  Jack crumpled his paper bag for his small fries into a tiny ball. “It’s not like I can bribe you with broccoli.”

  “True,” she said. “But you’ve never really discovered the power of Pop-Tarts. Tarts could open up an entirely new world for you.”

  “Thanks for the tip,” Jack said.

  Nattie gave him a lopsided grin, and it soothed his soul. At least they were okay. Even when the whole world seemed to be falling apart, he still had his little girl.

  Chapter 34

  Kelly was fiddling with her keys, blinded by tears, when Melody opened Kelly’s front door from the inside and gave her friend a long hug.

  “Got your text,” Melody whispered, “and thought you needed some company, so I let myself in.”

  Kelly crumpled in her arms. “It’s my own fault, you know.”

  They moved into the kitchen, where Kelly tossed her keys on the counter, and Felix nudged up against her, meowing loudly. She couldn’t believe the way things had turned out. Not until Jack opened the envelope had she come to grips with what she’d suspected. Nattie wasn’t hers. And because of her lies, now she’d lost both Jack and Nattie.

  “I pushed Jack to this,” she said.

  “If this is meant to be, he’ll come around, Kelly.”

  Kelly hugged her arms, rubbing life into her body. “I’m exhausted, Mel.”

  Melody grabbed her hand. “C’mon, girlfriend. Let’s go out.”

  “I can’t,” Kelly muttered. “And I’m keeping you from your family.”

  “They went to the movies,” Melody replied. “When did you last eat?”

  Kelly groaned. “This morning.”

  Melody scowled. “We’re going out for comfort food. My treat. You’re not losing weight again, not on my watch. I have a reputation to uphold.”

  Kelly smiled for the first time in hours but couldn’t help checking her cell phone as she climbed into the passenger side of Melody’s minivan. No texts. Of course not.

  “Seat belt, Kelly,” Melody whispered, turning a corner.

  Feeling like a child, Kelly slipped it on, clicking it into place, remembering the surprised look on Jack’s face when he read her report, as if he’d been expecting something different. He was anticipating the worst, she realized.

  At the restaurant, talking loudly enough to be heard over the music, she recounted the entire scene, beginning to end. Melody listened carefully but with prejudice. She could tell Melody was growing frustrated with this Jack Livingston, despite Kelly’s objections. “It’s not his fault.”

  “It just seems to me he’s not giving you a chance,” Melody muttered.

  When Melody slipped to the restroom, Kelly texted Jack a couple times, then felt stupid. She could imagine Melody’s reaction—“He should be pursuing you, Kel!”

  Kelly set her phone down, deeply grateful Melody hadn’t left her alone tonight, despite her initial objections.

  After an hour or so of pointless commiseration, Melody dropped her off at home, but not until they’d made plans for tomorrow morning.

  “Text me!” was the last thing Melody said before spinning out of Kelly’s apartment parking lot.

  Alone again, Kelly headed inside, where Felix met her at the door, meowing miserably.

  Gently setting Felix on the couch and tossing her purse on the counter, she decided not to turn on the lights. She didn’t turn on the radio or the TV, either. She needed silence. And darkness. It resonated with her soul. She needed to talk to the only Friend who’d ever stuck with her through thick and thin. And she needed a good cry.

  ———

  Later, she wiped her eyes and tried to figure out if there was a way to repair the damage she’d done. If things between her and Jack were truly over, she could write Nattie a letter, tell her how much she’d enjoyed getting to know her, and how she wished things could have worked out differently. Tell her I miss her.

  Fresh tears began to flow, and she snatched a few more tissues, blowing her nose and wiping her eyes. No, leave her alone. I’ve caused enough trouble.

  She checked the front-door deadbolt and made her way to the bedroom in the dark. It was only nine o’clock, but she went to bed and stared at the ceiling, realizing the only path forward was honesty. She was done with her tricks, done stealing DNA from unsuspecting suspects. And she couldn’t let Ernie invade other folks’ privacy for the sake of finding her daughter.

  The end did not justify the means. But where do I go from here?

  She had no idea. But God would direct. She knew that for sure. One step at a time.

  An hour later, unable to sleep, Kelly dialed her private investigator. Normally, Ernie was a night owl. Through the years, he’d often called her late.

  Penny answered. “Kelly dear, Ernie’s having a bowl of oatmeal. I’ll get him.”

  Ernie was surprised to hear from her. They made small talk at first, and then Kelly got him up to speed on the latest, embarrassed by the tears she couldn’t hold back. Ernie didn’t seem surprised by how things had turned out and expressed his condolences.

  “I’m pulling the plug, Ernie,” Kelly said. “I can’t do this anymore.” What she meant to say was, “We’re doing the wrong thing,” but she didn’t want her dear friend to feel judg
ed.

  “You sure? I’ve got one last name . . .” he began.

  Kelly shook her head. “No more names, okay?”

  “But—”

  “I can’t.”

  Ernie paused. “Fair enough, kiddo.”

  They made arrangements for the return of Chet’s unspent money, and Kelly thanked Ernie for sticking by her.

  Next, she called Chet, apologized for the late hour, and did what she hadn’t been able to do for months. She told the truth, the full truth. “I wasn’t completely honest with you.”

  A few moments later, in his Texan drawl, Chet said the words she needed to hear. “God forgives, my dear. And so do I.”

  She told him about her call to Ernie, and once again, Chet merely listened. She sniffed softly and felt her cat snuggle near. “He’ll return what he hasn’t spent.”

  “Have you had enough?” Chet asked her.

  She thought of what Chet had been telling her for years. “The darkest moment is the greatest opportunity to shine the light of faith.”

  “I’m regrouping,” she told Chet, and he seemed pleased, sparing her further advice.

  Nothing had changed. She was still the importunate widow knocking on the judge’s door in the dark of night, waiting for the door to open, begging for justice. Despite her own mistakes and failures, she believed God was bigger than her foolish sins.

  When she hung up the phone, it occurred to her that both Chet and Ernie had seemed strangely subdued. In fact, she was surprised that Ernie hadn’t fought to stay in the game. Even Chet had let things go a little too easily.

  They are relieved I’m throwing in the towel, she realized.

  In the bedroom, lit only by the light of the moon peering in through the window, she pulled the covers back and climbed into bed.

  Truth was, she felt strangely rejuvenated by the sense of losing everything again. She had nothing left but empty faith, nothing to offer God in return for answers to her prayers, nothing but a small candle of faith to light in the darkness.

  Kelly felt tears slip down her cheek. It’s better to believe than to receive. She smiled through her tears, and it felt good. “Thank You for providing,” she whispered into the darkness. “Thank You for taking care of my daughter when I can’t. I trust You.”