Chương 5
“Everything okay?”
Rachel sat in her parked car outside a pharmacy because she had apparently inherited an inability to have difficult conversations anywhere except parking lots.
“No.”
Evan stopped moving. She could hear the difference.
“What happened?”
“I need to tell you something about Mason.”
A pause.
“Your kid?”
Rachel gripped the steering wheel.
“Yes.”
“What about him?”
She could have built up to it.
She had spent almost two years building up to things.
“There’s a chance you’re his biological father.”
Silence.
Then a car horn sounded through Evan’s phone.
“What?”
Rachel shut her eyes.
“When Daniel and I were separated. That night.”
“I know what night.”
“I got pregnant around then.”
Another silence.
Longer.
“You told me it was over with him.”
“It was. I thought it was.”
“That isn’t what I’m asking.”
“I know.”
“Did you know when you got back together?”
“No.”
“When did you know?”
“When I found out I was pregnant.”
Evan’s breathing changed.
“So almost two years.”
Rachel pressed her forehead to the steering wheel.
“Yes.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Does Daniel know?”
“Yes.”
“Since when?”
“Yesterday.”
Evan laughed once.
“You called him first?”
“He’s my husband.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Rachel let him be angry.
After a while Evan said, “Does Mason look like me?”
The question was so simple that it broke something open in her.
“I don’t know.”
“You’ve never looked?”
“Of course I’ve looked.”
“And?”
“Some days he looks like Daniel. Some days he looks like my father. Babies look like potatoes half the time, Evan. I don’t know.”
He was quiet.
Then, unexpectedly, he laughed.
A real laugh, brief and horrified.
“Still mean when you panic.”
Rachel covered her eyes.
“I don’t know how to do this.”
“Yeah.”
“I want to arrange testing.”
“Okay.”
She lowered her hand.
“Okay?”
“What else am I supposed to say?”
“You can say no.”
“I’m not saying no.”
Rachel’s chest tightened.
Evan added, “I need time before anything else.”
“Of course.”
“And Rachel?”
“Yes?”
“If I am his father, you don’t get to decide alone what happens next.”
She stared at the pharmacy entrance.
“I know.”
“No. You’ve had a year to get comfortable making decisions alone.”
The words hurt because they were accurate.
“You’re right.”
“Stop saying that.”
Despite herself, Rachel almost smiled.
Daniel said the same thing when she told him about the call.
They were standing in the laundry room because Mason had fallen asleep on the living-room rug, one cheek against a stuffed elephant.
Daniel folded a towel badly.
“He said yes?”
“Yes.”
“To testing?”
“Yes.”
Daniel put the towel down.
“How did he sound?”
“Angry.”
“Good.”
Rachel stared at him.
Daniel shrugged.
“I don’t want to be the only one.”
She looked away.
He immediately seemed ashamed.
“I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s true.”
“Still.”
The washing machine clicked off.
Neither moved to empty it.
Daniel leaned against the dryer.
“I made an appointment.”
“For?”
“Counseling.”
Rachel looked at him.
He gave a small grimace.
“You can say no.”
“No.”
“You’re agreeing again.”
“I want to go.”
Daniel studied her face.
“Thursday.”
“Okay.”
He nodded.
That was the closest thing they had to a plan.
The testing appointment came first.
The clinic was forty minutes away because Daniel refused to use any company Eleanor had contacted.
Evan arrived early.
Rachel recognized his car before she saw him.
Daniel did too.
They sat for another minute in silence.
Mason was with Linda.
Rachel had debated that decision for an hour.
Daniel had finally said, “If we can’t trust Linda with him for two hours, then we have a different problem.”
So Linda had Mason.
Evan stood outside the clinic entrance with his hands in his jacket pockets.
He looked older.
So did Rachel, probably.
The three of them said hello.
Nobody shook hands.
Inside, paperwork occupied twenty minutes that felt almost mercifully ordinary.
Names.
Addresses.
Identification.
Consent.
The woman at the desk spoke in the efficient tone of someone who had seen every possible version of uncomfortable.
When she asked what relationship the two men had to the child being tested, Daniel answered first.
“His father.”
Evan looked down.
Rachel held her breath.
The woman glanced at the form.
“For the purpose of testing, I need biological relationship claimed or questioned.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“Possible father.”
Evan said quietly, “Same.”
They collected cheek samples.
Nothing dramatic happened.
No one fainted.
No one accused anyone.
Afterward the three of them stood in the parking lot beneath a cloudy sky.
Evan looked at Rachel.
“When do results come?”
“A few business days,” Daniel said.
Evan nodded.
Rachel realized they had given both men separate access to the results.
Another decision she could no longer control.
Evan looked toward Daniel.
“I’m sorry.”
Daniel’s expression hardened.
“For what?”
“That night.”
Rachel looked between them.
Evan continued.
“I knew you were married.”
“We were separated.”
“I know.”
Daniel shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Don’t make this easier for me by volunteering to be the bad guy.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Good.”
Evan nodded once.
Then he left.
Daniel and Rachel stood beside their car.
After a while Daniel said, “I hate him.”
Rachel did not defend Evan.
Daniel looked at her.
“I also don’t hate him.”
She nodded.
“That’s worse.”
“I know.”
He gave her a tired look.
“Stop.”
She laughed.
He did too.
The sound lasted maybe three seconds.
It felt enormous.
The results did not arrive in a few business days.
A processing issue delayed them.
On the fifth day, Rachel checked the portal seventeen times.
On the sixth, she forced herself not to check before noon and lasted until nine fifteen.
Daniel went back to work.
Rachel resumed her remote bookkeeping job during Mason’s naps, though she spent one entire afternoon entering the same vendor invoice twice and correcting it three times.
Life continued with offensive normality.
The trash went out.
Mason learned to open the cabinet beneath the television.
Daniel forgot to buy milk.
May you like
Rachel burned grilled cheese.
On Thursday they sat in a counselor’s office where a ceramic bowl on the table contained individually wrapped peppermints.
