Kendall steps forward suddenly and embraces me. I’m caught by surprise, but I’m relieved, and I hug her back.
It feels so good to hold her, to have her pressed against me. My hands start to roam down her sides as if of their own accord, but I stop myself. It doesn’t matter how much I want her. That’s over.
“It was really good to see you again,” she says softly.
“It was really good to see you too,” I say. “I’m sorry I got you shipwrecked.”
She laughs. “We need to stop apologizing to each other,” she says.
“I know you didn’t enjoy being stranded on that island.”
“No. But it will make a good story. I’m not sorry.” She looks up at me, her eyes searching mine. “I’m not sorry about anything, Chase.”
I don’t think she’s talking about our trip to Tala anymore. “I’m not sorry either,” I agree.
“Good,” she says. “Then no more apologies. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“The paternity test—”
“I’ll make the arrangements,” I say. “I’ll contact the clinic I went to for my fertility test, if that’s all right? They’ll be able to do it.”
“That’s fine with me,” Kendall agrees. “Just let me know when the appointment is set, so I can meet you there.”
“I will. I’ll call you.”
“Great.”
It strikes me that she’s as reluctant to separate as I am. For a moment I feel light with happiness.
But she thinks you’re the father of her baby, I remind myself. She’s bound to be comforted by any involvement you have in her life right now, even if it’s just waiting for a taxi with her. That doesn’t mean there’s room for anything more here. When she finds out I’m not the father, it will be him she wants standing in taxi lines with her. Not me.
Still, I’m the one here with her now. So when the next taxi pulls up to the stand, I wave an arm for her to go in front of me and take it. I help her lift her suitcase into the trunk. I open the door of the cab so she can get in.
She hugs me one more time, flinging her arms around my neck. I want desperately to kiss her. But that would confuse the issue. The feelings between the two of us are complicated enough as it is. Instead, I hold onto her tightly for a long minute. Then I let her go.
Kendall climbs into the car and presses a palm flat against the window. She’s still smiling. I know she must be thinking that she and I are at the beginning of something. She believes that the paternity test is going to confirm what she’s been telling me—that I’m the father of the baby. I’m sure she thinks that once she has proof, things will be different for the two of us.
But I know the truth. The answer we’re going to get from that test won’t be the one we want. There’s another father out there, and Kendall will have to turn her attention to him. Maybe she doesn’t love him. Maybe she doesn’t even like him. But this is a time in her life when she’ll have to focus on learning how to deal with him, because the two of them will be linked together forever.
And I’ll never have that. Not with Kendall. Not with anyone.
In a way, I almost wish I didn’t have to take this paternity test. I wish the two of us could keep living in a world where the impossible was possible. Where the baby might be mine.
But I can’t live a lie.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and look up the number for the fertility clinic. The receptionist answers on the second ring, and I give my name and explain that I’m a former patient.
“I need to schedule a paternity test,” I say.
“May I have the mother’s name?”
“Kendall Wrightwood.”
Silence, broken only by the sound of typing. Then she speaks again. “Okay, Dr. Hubert can see the two of you this coming Tuesday at ten in the morning. Will that work?”
So soon. I thought we’d have longer, somehow. The dream will be extinguished in just a few days.
“That’ll work,” I say reluctantly.
“I’ll put you in the system,” the receptionist says. “Have a nice day, Mr. Harker.”
“You too.”
I hang up and fire off a quick text to Kendall, letting her know the time and location of the appointment before pocketing my phone. Then I step forward to claim a taxi of my own.
The ride through the streets of Chicago is familiar, but strange. This is my city and I’ve traveled the route from the airport to my home dozens of times. But this is Kendall’s city too. Are these streets familiar to her? Does she walk along this block, buy coffee at that coffee shop, catch the L at that stop? Which Chicago landmarks belong to her?
It’s strange to realize that I only know her in different places—first Applewood, then Tala. We’ve never spent time together here, even though it’s our home. Our joint visit to the paternity test will be the first thing we do together in Chicago.
If we could have had a second date…
The aquarium catches my eye, off in the distance. I might have taken her there. Or maybe to the art museum. Or to a baseball game. There are so many things to do together in our city. But for Kendall and I, the first date we’ll share in the City of Chicago will be at a medical clinic, and it will end with news that will break both of our hearts.
Chapter 20
Chase
The day of the paternity test comes quickly, and it passes in a blur. Kendall and I hardly see each other. It turns out that no aspect of the test requires us to be in the same room, and when I’ve finished my part and the nurse dismisses me, I feel funny hanging around waiting for her. I text her instead—“All finished, they say they’ll have results in the next couple of days”—and head out to try to occupy myself.
Easier said than done. It seems all I can think about is Kendall and her baby. Could it be mine? It doesn’t seem realistic that Kendall would have slept with another man and just forgotten about it. That’s not the kind of person she is.
I’ve been assuming the true father is someone she just can’t bring herself to accept, some kind of one-night mistake. But Kendall was pretty clear about the fact that she’s only ever had one one-night affair, and that was with me.
I don’t know what to think. Honestly, the act of thinking at all is starting to make me crazy. By the next afternoon, I’m climbing the walls. I need to get out of my head for a while.
Alex is a friend from my modeling days. Since my retirement, he’s landed a contract as the face of a jeans company, and pictures of him with his pants riding low on his hips, shirtless and leaning against a piece of farm equipment or a split rail fence, can be seen in almost every men’s magazine you pick up.
The ads crack me up, because Alex couldn’t be less of a farm type. He hates even the idea of working with his hands. He wears designer labels and gets expensive haircuts. He won’t ride the L, or even take a taxi or a rideshare. He takes a car service everywhere he goes.
He’s a nice guy, though, despite his pretensions, and when I tell him I need to get out, he suggests meeting at a swanky hotel bar not far from my apartment.
When I arrive, he’s already waiting with a scotch in hand for me. I can always count on Alex to be there during the tough times. That’s why he’s my one modeling friendship that has endured through my retirement.
“So what’s going on?” he asks as I sit down. “You mentioned something about girl trouble on the phone. I have to admit, I’m happy to hear it. It’s been a minute since I’ve seen you with a woman.”
“It’s not exactly girl trouble,” I say.
Alex looks crestfallen. “There’s no girl?”
“No, there is a girl. Well, kind of.”
I run him through a quick summary of my history with Kendall, right up to her telling me she’s pregnant with my baby, me denying it, and the two of us agreeing on the paternity test. As the story unfolds, Alex’s eyes grow wider and wider.
“And now we’re just waiting for the results,” I finish, “and I’m going out of my mind.”
Alex waves two fingers at the bartender, even though I’ve hardly made a dent in my scotch. “So you’re telling me you might be a father?”
“No,” I say. “I can’t be.” Alex is one of the few people who knows the real reason Ashley and I broke up.
“Well,” he says, “If you’re not worried you’re the father, why are you so worked up? The test will come back negative, and then she’ll have to move on to some other possibility. You’ll be off the hook.”
I sigh. “I don’t think I want to be off the hook.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I think…I think I love her, Alex.”
In the long silence that follows, the bartender arrives with fresh drinks for us. I down the remainder of my first scotch and pick up my second, nodding thanks.
Finally, Alex speaks.
“So you want the baby to be yours,” he says.
“I’d like that,” I admit.
“And she says there’s no other possible father?”
“She says that, but that can’t be the case,” I say. “I’ve been tested, Alex. By multiple doctors. They all said the same thing: I can’t father a child. Even though I’d like to have a child with her. I’d like to be a family with her. Honestly, if this test came back and somehow told me the baby was mine, I would be over the moon. But it’s not possible, is it?”
“You don’t sound sure.”
“I don’t know. I keep getting hung up on the fact that Kendall wouldn’t lie. She says there haven’t been any other men. She’s an honest woman. But it just can’t be me.”
“You really care for her, don’t you?” Alex asks.
“She’s all I think about,” I admit. “I knew we had a good connection the night we first met, but I didn’t realize how deep it went. I had no idea how powerful my feelings for her were. I thought it was just…”
“A sexual thing?”
“Yeah. That we had really good chemistry together.”
“And do you?”
“Well. Yes. Mind-blowing, actually.”
Alex chuckles at that and tips his glass to me.
“But it’s so much more. When we were together on Tala, we didn’t even sleep together. Not that I’d have said no if the opportunity had come up, believe me. But just spending time with her, just talking to her, was almost as wonderful as being intimate.”
“You’ve got it bad,” Alex observes.
“And I never meant to! You know I’ve been avoiding women for years for this exact reason. I didn’t want to fall in love and get my heart broken again.”
“You think she would have left you if she knew you were infertile?”
“She says no. But Ashley said that too.”
“Yeah, well, not all women are the same.”
“Right,” I agree.
“Maybe Kendall would have stayed with you,” Alex suggests. “Maybe you could have taken a chance on her, Chase. You close yourself off to even the possibility of something good happening. What’s the point of protecting your heart if you’re not going to use it?”
He has a point. I know that.
“It’s too late now, though,” I say. “She’s having another man’s baby, Alex. She’s not going to be able to deal with starting a new relationship on top of that. That’s too much change to ask any person to make at the same time.”
“Unless she’s not having another man’s baby,” Alex counters. “You say she’s an honest woman. She could be telling the truth. It could be yours.”
“I’m infertile, though.”
“I mean, according to a couple of doctors, sure.”
I laugh. “You think you know better than doctors now?”
“I don’t, no. But you have to admit, there are things that science and medicine can’t explain. People suddenly waking up from years-long comas, for example. Or people whose doctors tell them they’ll never walk again going on to compete in professional sports.”
“So you think what? That I’m a medical marvel?”
“It happens. People think they’re infertile, and then they have a miracle baby. You wouldn’t be the first.”
“They were pretty sure,” I say. “They said I’d never be able to have a child. Two different doctors said that.”
“That was when you were with Ashley, though.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” I ask. “It’s not like they were testing the compatibility of our bodies. The test was on me personally.”
“But you said yourself the chemistry was special between you and Kendall,” Alex points out. “You said it felt different than anything else ever had. Maybe that’s because something’s actually changed. Maybe something is different on a physical level. Maybe the chemistry with you two is so perfect that it’s been able to overcome the difficulties you had in the past.”
“That sounds like some seriously weird science.”
“But we know these things do happen. We know people are diagnosed as infertile and have children in spite of that. We know something special happened between you and Kendall. And if she’s to be believed—which you say she is—she hasn’t been with any other men besides you.”
A ray of hope shoots through me.
“Do you really think it’s possible?”
“I think anything’s possible,” he says. “And based on everything you’ve told me, I think all the signs point to the doctors being wrong and Kendall being right. I understand why you’re hesitant to believe it. But I think you should be open to the idea.”
It could be my baby. It really could.
For a moment I allow myself to imagine that. A doctor placing a newborn in my arms as Kendall, exhausted and elated, smiles up at me. The two of us caring for an infant, a toddler. Taking a child to his or her first day of school. Flying a kite with a ten-year-old. Worrying together about a teenager. Teaching my child to drive. Dropping my child off at college. A whole life I’d written off, assumed I’d never be able to have.
And I want it. I’ve forced myself not to think about it for so long, but I can’t hold back now that the door has been opened. I see it before me and I long for it.
And as thoughts of this possible future fill my mind, I feel a buzzing against my hip. My phone is ringing.
I know who it’s going to be before I look at it and see the phone number of the fertility clinic. The results of the test. They came quickly. I wasn’t honestly expecting to hear from them today. And part of me is afraid to answer.
I’ve just opened myself up to the possibility that the child is mine. I’ve just allowed myself to feel hope, for the first time in what feels like forever.To have it squashed so quickly would be devastating.
“Is that them?” Alex asks.
Wordlessly, I nod.
“Well, answer it.”
I hesitate. The phone rings again.
“Do you want me to answer it?”
“No.”
I swallow hard and accept the call.
“Hello?”
“Is this Chase Harker?”
“Yes.” My muscles feel jittery. My heart is pounding. I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous in my life, not even when I did a photo shoot in nothing but tight swim shorts.
“Mr. Harker, we’re calling with the results of your recent paternity test,” the woman on the phone says.
“Oh,” I say. “Have you called Kendall yet? I mean, Ms. Wrightwood? The baby’s mother?”
“Someone is notifying her now,” the woman says.
“Okay.”
That’s good. I would have felt strange about getting the results either before or after Kendall, I think. Finding out at the same time is perfect. I picture her on the phone somewhere, waiting on the answer, and I curl my fingers subtly on the table and imagine that I’m holding her hand. She wants the baby to be mine as much as I do.
God. I’ve really got it bad.
“Are you ready for the results of your test?” the woman asks me.
“I a
m.”
“All right then. According to the DNA markers, you are the father of Kendall Wrightwood’s baby.”
The words echo in my ears. You are the father. You are the father. Kendall said so, and now medical science says so. I am the father of Kendall’s baby.
“Are you sure?”
“The test is conclusive,” the woman says. “Congratulations.”
Something is bubbling up inside me, something wonderful, and suddenly I’m laughing. I can’t believe it, but there’s nothing left to hold me back from embracing the truth. The baby is really mine. Kendall and I are having a baby together. It’s everything I wanted. It’s more than I ever dared to dream possible.
“Sir?” The woman on the phone sounds worried now. “Are you all right?”
I try to tell her I’m fine, but I can’t seem to get ahold of myself. The joy at realizing that Kendall is having my baby is too much to contain.
Alex reaches over and snatches the phone from my hand. “Thanks very much,” he says and disconnects. He’s staring at me. “So I guess that was good news?”
I compose myself, taking a few deep breaths to steady my voice. “The baby’s mine, Alex.”
“Well,” he says. “Good. I thought it might be.”
“Are you seriously going to say ‘I told you so’ right now?”
“I did tell you so,” he says, laughing. Then he punches my shoulder lightly. “Congratulations, man. You’re going to be a father!” He flags the bartender again.
“A father…” I can’t believe it, and yet I finally know it’s true. I return to my fantasy of flying a kite with my child. I’ve never flown a kite before, I realize suddenly, and then I’m laughing again.
The bartender comes over. “Is everything all right?” he asks, giving me a funny look.
I can’t get it together to answer, but Alex comes to my rescue. “We’re fine here,” he says. “We’re celebrating, as a matter of fact. Could we get a bottle of your best champagne, please, and two glasses?”
The bartender casts me another doubtful look, but he heads off to get the requested champagne. Alex turns to me.
The Baby Miracle Page 15