Dominick's Secret Baby

by Iris Parker

  I'm not a pervert, of course. The public stuff was her idea, and who was I to say no? Besides, this place was deserted right now. The odds of running into anyone were astronomically low, and there was no chance another team member with locker-room access was going to—

  "Alton?" a familiar voice called.

  Well, that figured. Dominick always did have a strong sense of irony.

  Fucker.

  I say that with love, of course.

  "I get first dibs on the locker room," I called, turning around as I spoke, figuring that Dominick was probably here for more-or-less the same reason I was. "How have you been, you motherf—"

  I stopped short just in time, turning the expletive into a deranged cough. Dominick, my oldest and dearest friend, was standing awkwardly with two half-pints behind him. All three of them were being shadowed by a demurely dressed woman who looked like she'd escaped from the library, definitely not Dominick's usual type.

  Yeah, okay. Maybe he wasn't here for the same reason as me.

  I hoped.

  I don't know if my jaw actually went slack or not, but it sure felt that way. I stared at the group in surprise, unable to think of a damn thing to say.

  "Uhhh," I said awkwardly.

  "Errr," Dominick said awkwardly.

  "I'm Chanterelle!" my date chirped happily, apparently lacking the social grace to be awkward.

  Chanterelle! I knew that, I thought to myself. I totally knew that.

  The young girl standing behind Dominick scrunched her eyebrows together, clearly confused. "But that's a mushroom," she said. "Why are you named after a mushroom?"

  "Wait, what?" Chanterelle asked.

  "Ali! Be nice," the older woman chided, putting her hand on the girl's shoulder. "I'm sure she already knows."

  "Really?" My date said incredulously, shaking her head in surprise. "A mushroom? Really?"

  "They're edible, if it helps," said the librarian-lady. "And quite good."

  "Oh," Chanterelle said, sounding sincerely relieved. "Well, as long as I'm yummy, I guess…."

  Yeah, I was definitely getting too old for this shit.

  Not even Little Alton could help me now.

  "They're kind of pretty, too. Really bright yellow. Like your hair," the girl said reassuringly. I gave the kid a smile, and her eyes sparkled at me.

  Green and blue.

  One each.

  My own eyes shot up to Dominick's, just to make sure I hadn't gone crazy.

  Then back down to the kid's, just…you know, double checking.

  Then back up to his.

  Suddenly, Dominick's recent absence was starting to make a hell of a lot of sense.

  I just wish it didn't.

  Yikes, this was bad.

  "Uh, Dom?" I asked carefully. "Could I talk to you for a minute? Alone?"

  Dominick

  "Something you want to tell me?" Alton said in a loud whisper as we walked away from the group.

  "As a matter of fact…" I began, trailing off with a shrug.

  "This isn't funny!" Alton said.

  "I know, I know, I should've told you," I said, stopping to give my oldest friend an embarrassed smile.

  "Understatement of the year," Alton muttered. "A secret family? How freaking long ago did you go all Charles Lindbergh on me?"

  "Alton!" I said, crossing my arms. "Don't be so dramatic. It's not a secret family."

  "Sure looks like one to me," Alton said, peeking behind me to look at the group. "And not a new thing, either. Those two kids are years apart, and the boy is clearly a teenager!"

  "The boy isn't even mine. He just lives next to u—uh," I said, barely managing to stop myself from saying us. "He just lives next to Helena."

  "You named your daughter Helena?"

  "No, Helena is…" I began, and then paused. What was Helena, exactly? She clearly wasn't my wife, and even though we were seeing each other regularly and had even slept together, girlfriend seemed all wrong. What was the word?

  A woman.

  That I had feelings for.

  And was sleeping with.

  And am helping to raise our child together.

  There had to be a word for that, right? It's not like it could be that unlikely a situation…right?

  "Helena is Ali's mother," I finally said, as neutrally as possible. "And we only met this year."

  "This year? Unless you've got a time machine and just never mentioned it, I don't see how that's…" Alton said, trailing off as his brain finished its invisible calculations.

  His eyes lit up with comprehension just a split second before they lit up in panic.

  "Damn!" he said suddenly. "The donations? But they promised those were anonymous. They said there was no way we'd ever be contacted!"

  "That's what they said, yes," I said with a shrug. "Apparently they were wrong."

  Alton shook his head firmly. "No, there's got to be another explanation."

  "Yeah, but like you said, they all kind of require time travel," I joked, but Alton didn't even crack a smile. I looked at him, realizing that he was sincerely spooked by this. I'd expected surprise and maybe even horror, but not fear.

  Why was he so afraid? I wondered, and then finally it clicked.

  "Are you worried that the same thing is going to happen to you?" I asked.

  "Of course I am!" Alton said, his whisper practically echoing through the large empty space.

  "I don't think that's how it works," I said gently. "One security breach is unlikely enough. What're the odds of the same thing just coincidentally happening to both of us? Not a chance. You're safe, man."

  Not that having a daughter is all that bad, I reflected silently. Of course, Alton wouldn't be able to see it that way. How could he? Before I'd met Ali myself, I couldn't have imagined it either. But then it had actually happened, and it was wonderful.

  "It's a scam," Alton said, still clearly in denial. "Some way to get you on the hook for child support, or something. It has to be."

  "Alton, you figured out who Ali was after looking at her for ten seconds. And you know the timeline matches up. How could this possibly be a scam?" I said after taking a deep breath. Alton's words were upsetting—not because I didn't trust Helena or Ali, but because I did. I trusted them so much that the idea they could be lying to me was offensive. If I had been talking to anyone but my best friend, I probably would've lost my temper.

  "Well, yeah. But only because of the eyes. Maybe she's wearing contacts," Alton suggested. "Have you checked for contacts?"

  "I'm not going to poke my daughter in the eye to check for contacts, Alton," I answered, trying my best not to grit my teeth.

  "Well maybe that's what they're counting on you to think!"

  "I think you watch too many police procedurals," I said, trying to laugh it off.

  "You leave David Boreanaz out of this!" Alton said jokingly, but his face was turning as red as mine. I'd known him practically my whole life, and I'd only ever seen him this freaked out once before.

  A little over twelve years ago.

  "Alton, breathe. Try to relax. It's okay. This isn't a problem, and if it were, it would be my problem. Nobody is going to show up on your doorstep with a tween girl," I said, trying to calm him down as much as I was trying to keep myself calm.

  "How do you know? Maybe the sperm bank is in on it, some kind of scam they run together. They tried sending me some mail, too, you know."

  "They did?" I asked, surprised by the news. "What did it say?"

  "I threw it out. I just assumed they wanted money. But you have to admit that it makes you think."

  "No, it doesn't. You're right, they were probably just doing a fundraiser or something. They couldn't do more than that if they tried, Alton. I talked to a lawyer first thing after meeting Helena, and he confirmed everything. There's nothing she can do to me, even if she wanted. But she doesn't want to, because this isn't a scam!"

  "Whatever," Alton said dismissively. "I still say she's hiding something. T
hey always are."

  "She's not!" I answered back, more harshly than I intended.

  Alton took a step back in surprise.

  Another deep breath from me.

  "Look, I know you're just trying to watch out for me. And I appreciate that. I also know that this is a lot to take in, especially with your history, but Helena is not like that. She's not hiding anything. She's the mother of my daughter, and I trust her. Let's just leave it at that, please. You need to understand that I'm happy, and I don't want this to become a fight."

  "Fine," Alton said grudgingly, after a long pause. "I'll keep my mouth shut about it."

  Keep it shut, but not agree with me. It was the best I could hope for under the circumstances, I supposed.

  "I won't have to say that," I said finally. "But we obviously have a lot of catching up to do. Let's get together soon and talk it out over some drinks, how's that sound?"

  "Yeah, that sounds good," Alton said, running a nervous hand through his hair. "And the sooner, the better. How's lunch sound?"

  "I can't do it today. This is just our first stop, I promised Helena and Ali that I'd take them out…besides, won't you be a bit, er, busy?" I asked, referring to Alton's date.

  "With Mushroom Girl? I think I'm going to pass, actually," Alton said.

  "Just because of her name?" I asked, surprised. Alton was a lot of things, but easily-discouraged wasn't one of them.

  Certainly not about women.

  "It has nothing to do with her name," Alton said.

  "Then why?"

  "Because it looks like she's really hitting it off with your preteen daughter," Alton said, nodding his head in their general direction.

  I turned and looked back. Sure enough, Ali and Chanterelle seemed to be having an animated conversation while Helena stared on in horror. I couldn't say that I blamed her; Chanterelle seemed nice enough, but my first impression of her had not been great.

  And just like that, for the first time in my life, I went from being seen as a bad influence, straight to worrying that someone else was one. The idea of Ali imitating the twenty-something woman kicked in more than a few protective instincts, and I was glad that Helena was around to step in if needed.

  "Well," I said slowly. "That's…uh…"

  "Incredibly disturbing," Alton finished for me.

  "Incredibly," I agreed.

  "We're getting too old for this shit, aren't we?"

  "Acting like a couple of oversized frat boys, you mean?" I asked. "Yes. We are." It was a feeling that had been building for some time, but meeting Helena had solidified it overnight. Still, I was surprised to hear Alton be the first to say it.

  "She probably has more in common with Ali than she does with me," Alton pointed out. "Jesus."

  "I think you're underestimating her," I said reassuringly.

  "You think?" Alton asked.

  "I'm sure," I said with a smile.

  And I was sure. Of course, by "her" I had meant Ali, not Chanterelle. But I wasn't about to force my best friend into an early midlife crisis just to brag about my daughter.

  I gave Alton a reassuring pat on the back before turning around, returning to the mismatched pack of guests we'd brought to the arena. Helena still looked pale, but despite everything that had just happened, seeing her made me smile. She was an incredible woman, and Ali was unbelievably smart and capable for her age. I couldn't have been more proud.

  Not of Ali, and certainly not of the wonderful mother that had raised her.

  Helena

  I nodded along to the conversation, not really hearing all that much of it. Chanterelle and Ali had only been talking for a few moments before Chanterelle's so-you-like-science-and-stuff made the topic gravitate towards astronomy.

  "I can't believe they said Pluto can't be a planet anymore, so stupid!" Chanterelle had complained.

  Which, of course, had been more than enough for Ali to jump into a passionately explanation of why it wasn't stupid, and why keeping Pluto would've eventually led to having "like a million" different planets to memorize. Ali's speech had echoes of the one I'd given her years ago, and I was surprised by how much of it she actually remembered.

  I was a bit worried that Ali's enthusiasm and bluntness could cause a problem with the older woman, but Chanterelle took it well. More than that, she seemed interested, and soon the two were talking like friends.

  It was a bit strange to see Ali driving the conversation with a much older woman, but at least science was a neutral and safe topic. I didn't like to judge people based on their appearances, but Chanterelle's risqué outfit had made me assume the worst about her. Now, though, the teacher in me was wondering how she would've done in my classes.

  Not that I had much time to think about that in detail.

  Actually, I didn't have time to think about very much at all.

  I was too busy trying my best to eavesdrop on the conversation that Dominick and Alton were having just a few feet away, their whispers occasionally reaching me with crystal clarity.

  Especially from Alton.

  To put it mildly, I was getting the impression that he didn't like me very much. My stomach sank at the revelation, and then I began to wonder what that said about me. Was it important to me that Dominick's friends all like me? Was it important to Dominick?

  To tell the truth, I didn't know very much at all about Dom's social life. Every time we were together, the focus had always been on us. Either the underlying attraction between me and Dominick, or the bubbly and happy interactions between Dominick and Ali, or just on the three of us coming together towards something that almost looked like a typical nuclear family.

  Complete with having 1.5 children, I thought, thinking once again of my pregnancy. I shivered, trying once again to rationalize my deception. I still planned to tell Dominick everything as soon as the day was over, but would he forgive me? I hadn't meant to mislead him for this long. Everything was the result of a single split-second decision I'd made on the day we met.

  He would understand.

  He had to.

  "She's hiding something. They always are," Alton's voice said, his not-really-subtle whispering amplified by the empty room's acoustics. The accusation felt like I'd been slapped in the face, because of course it was true.

  My stomach churned with a queasy, sick feeling.

  Dominick will understand, I reassured myself again. Everyone lies sometimes. I didn't do it to hurt him, and the important thing is—

  "She's not!" Dominick roared back, practically shouting at his friend. I could feel the blood turning to ice, draining from my face. Even Alton shied away, clearly disturbed by his friend's anger.

  He's really going out on a limb to defend me, I realized. And I didn't deserve it. How would he react when I told him the truth?

  That his friend was right.

  That I can't be trusted.

  The world spun around me, my nausea now much worse. Blood was rushing in my ears, making them ring and deafening me to the rest of their conversation. I'd gone from eavesdropping—another dishonest, untrustworthy action, I reflected—to introspection. Suddenly the threat of losing Dominick felt very real, and the thought was unbearable.

  Short of losing a child, losing Dominick was the worst thing I could imagine happening to me.

  I shivered.

  And what about my daughter? If Dominick hated me, would he still continue to be Ali's father? The two were quickly developing a close bond, but was it already strong enough to endure a major hardship like that? Or would seeing her just remind Dominick of my betrayal, leading to bitterness and misery?

  For Ali to lose her father so soon after meeting him was heartbreaking. I remembered my own childhood, and how difficult it had been when my mother died. Was I exposing Ali to a similar experience?

  It wasn't until that moment that I realized the full weight of my mistake, and just how badly I had screwed everything up.

  Dominick turned around and gave me a big smile. It was gentle and
kind and sexy, the kind of smile that kept you warm on cold nights. Even so, it did nothing to melt the ice I could feel all around me. It surrounded me, and threatened to crush me with its weight.

  I was trapped, and I had nobody to blame but myself.

  Helena

  Blood rushed back to my head, ringing in my ears loud enough to deafen me. It was probably for the best, I decided. Dominick already had enough reason to hate me without adding eavesdropping to the list, and besides, the little bit that I'd already heard was more than enough. Feeling guiltier than ever, I turned to the side so I wouldn't face the two men while I waited for their conversation to end.

  Eventually it did, and Alton left the arena.

  Or maybe he'd stormed out of the arena. Without overhearing how their talk ended, I couldn't be sure.

  The one thing I could be sure of was that he'd forgotten to bring his date with him. It was an awkward situation, made even worse by the fact that Chanterelle had apparently decided to tag along with us. The unexpected company didn't deter Dominick, however, who seemed to be in a good mood and continued the tour without hesitation. He had enough cheer for both of us, which was good—because I didn't have any left at all.

  I practically sleepwalked my way through the arena, not really listening to anything. Instead, I obsessively focused on my own problems and fears.

  What was I going to do, and was there even a way out of this mess?

  If I came clean now, Dominick might forgive me. He was a wonderful man, patient and empathic. But it seemed like yesterday, before the sex, had been my last good chance to tell him about the pregnancy. Dominick had unknowingly talked me out of it, and while it was still clearly my fault, at least I could point out that I had tried. If I explained today, as soon as we got back home, he would probably understand.

  Probably.

  Or he might also leave and never come back, not even for Ali.