by Roy, Deanna
Gavin, Rosa, and I took the three vacant seats, and Tina stood against the wall near the door.
“Hello, I’m Abigail Jennings. I work in family services here,” the woman said. She reached for a pair of reading glasses hanging on a gold chain and put them on. Her silver hair was coiffed and elegant, much like my own mother’s, and this helped me calm down a little. She had undoubtedly seen pretty much everything that could happen. We were not going to be anything outside her norm.
She opened the folder, and all our eyes went to it, hoping for our first glance at the answer, the big question coming to a close. But the print was small and light, numbers cascading down the page in a table.
“We are an AABB-accredited lab that provides results with an accuracy level that meets requirements for the courts as well as immigration agencies.” She tugged out the top sheet of paper. “When we have a case that includes a child whose parentage might involve issues of custody across international borders, we have to dot a few more i’s and cross a few more t’s.”
She turned the page around. “Our test looks for sixteen genetic matches. In this column,” she pointed to the first segment of the table, “we have the child’s genetic markers.” She tapped the next column. “Here are the alleged father’s.” Her fingers trailed down the numbers in the rows.
I could already see the tally at the bottom: 99.9%. But I wasn’t sure which way it went. It talked about exclusions.
“Sometimes our combined index falls into a gray area, depending on the mutations in the markers, but in this case, the conclusion was sufficient to satisfy both a court and the embassies.” She looked up. “It proves without a doubt that the child and the father are related.”
Rosa let out a breath, her hands flat on the table. Gavin’s jaw was tight, the muscle twitching, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tried to swallow.
I couldn’t think, the words still hanging in the air like laundry on a line. I blinked, working to believe it, trying to let them penetrate.
Gavin reached for the page and moved it toward him, staring at the numbers. I felt Tina’s presence behind me, her hands on my shoulders like she had done the day before, in the lab.
Then everything came at me at once, like I’d just broken the surface of the ocean, gasping for breath, my chest heaving. I wasn’t crying or making any sound, just sucking in air.
“Breathe, Corabelle, breathe in,” Tina said.
Gavin turned to me, his hand on my back. “It’s okay, baby. We’re going to be all right. We’ll figure this out.”
“She just got discharged yesterday,” Tina said to the social worker. “She’s had pneumonia.”
“Should I call someone in?” Abigail asked.
“She’ll be okay,” Tina said. “Let’s give her a moment.”
I listened to all this impassively, as if they were talking about someone else. All I could see was Gavin as a child, his expressions, his impish grin, the swirl of his hair over his ears. I realized I had seen it all along in Rosa’s son, and I had known, but was unwilling to acknowledge it.
“That’s better,” Tina said. “Keep breathing. Take it slow.”
The room came back to me, Gavin, leaning in, pulling me to him. He shouldn’t do that, not in front of Rosa. She loved him, she was the mother of his child, his living child, not the dead one, not the one that was not meant to be his.
I pushed away from him, standing up, suddenly wishing I was still in the hospital, a room to go to, a place to shut the door and not have to rely on anyone to take me home. “I need a moment,” I said. “Tina?”
“I’m right here.” She wrapped her arm along my shoulders and I realized what a friend she had become, someone I had scarcely known only a few days ago. I did not know how I would have gotten through this without her.
“Corabelle, please don’t walk away,” Gavin said. “I’m not going anywhere. I love you.”
Rosa stood up too. “I am not here to take Gavin. That is not what I want.”
“Later,” I said. “Later. Let me think about this.”
But Gavin was unrelenting. “If you’re leaving, I’m leaving too.”
“We can work out the papers some other time,” Abigail said. “There is no rush here.”
I walked toward the door, Tina beside me. “Let’s go to the art room,” she said. “We’ll clear your head.”
Gavin tried to follow, jerking the door wide. “I am not letting you go, Corabelle.”
I whirled around. “I may not give you that choice.”
“Okay, let’s go,” Tina said. “Gavin, go figure out your forms. You have some obligations now. Straighten all that out. Give Corabelle some time.”
I turned away, trying not to look at Gavin’s face but seeing it anyway, his stricken expression, his clenched fists, his despair. I felt it too. I felt it all. I’d always felt it. It seemed like I always would.
34: Gavin
The social worker came to the door. “Gavin, I would suggest you give her a little time to absorb this. It’s a big blow, and even without your history, this would be hard for her.”
“What history?” Rosa asked.
I turned around, realizing Rosa knew nothing about Finn, only that I’d chosen to cut off my chances at fatherhood long ago. Bitterness coursed through me. “It must have been real rich for you to realize you were pregnant when you knew damn well I was only in Tijuana because I never wanted to have a kid.”
Rosa dropped back into a chair. “Rich? I do not understand.”
My head was exploding with pressure. “When I met you, you knew I didn’t want kids. That’s why I was in Mexico. To get cut, remember?”
She folded her hands in her lap. “I remember, Gavinito.”
“Don’t CALL ME THAT.” My voice echoed through the room and out into the hall.
Abigail closed the door. “Gavin, try to stay calm.”
“Calm? You’ve obviously never met my father. He’s the one who was never calm. And I’m just like him.” I pointed a finger at Rosa. “And thanks to you, now we’ll have another little fucked-up kid to fuck up more kids.”
Tears slid down Rosa’s face, and I turned away, pissed as hell. Damn it. What the hell was this life trying to do to me? I shouldn’t be around anyone. I shouldn’t be with a fucking soul. Send me to some fucking island.
“Let’s talk about this rationally,” Abigail said. “Gavin, sit down.”
I moved to the far end of the table and dropped into Corabelle’s chair.
“Nothing has to change right this moment.” She tucked the paper inside the folder. “Rosa, are you in the US legally right now?”
Rosa stared at the table, tears dripping onto the surface.
“I’m guessing that’s a no. I’m not here to report you. I just need to know your legal status.”
“She borrowed a border crossing card,” I said.
“Okay.” Abigail pulled a pen from inside the folder and jotted some notes. “Are you planning to get Manuel’s immigration status changed so he can be here in the United States with his father?”
Rosa still didn’t answer.
Abigail reached across the table to rest her hand on Rosa’s wrist. “You have many options here, but if you get deported after we change Manuel’s legal status, you can get sent back without him. We need you to think this through so that we do what is best for everybody.”
“The boy needs his father,” Rosa said.
Abigail glanced at me. “You realize that Gavin’s only obligation will be for child support, and even that can be challenged if you keep the boy in Mexico and do not allow visitation.”
Jesus, they were acting like I wasn’t even there. “I’m not a total asshole,” I said.
“Really?” Abigail shot at me. “Because you were putting on a pretty good imitation of one.”
She was right. God. I had forgotten everything, the promise I made in ICU, the plans in my head just that morning. “I need help,” I said. “I can’t do this by myself.”
<
br /> Abigail’s free hand reached for mine, creating a bridge between the three of us. “You aren’t by yourself. There’s going to be a lot of people involved. We can get you counseling. We can get you legal aid. But you two are going to need some patience. You have to realize this isn’t going to happen overnight. And you do have to decide what you mean to each other, what you want from this new family that has been formed.”
“I plan to marry Corabelle,” I said. “If she’ll have me after this.”
Abigail nodded. “So you can work on that.” She turned to Rosa. “Do you want to try and immigrate with your son, or return to Mexico?”
“I do not want to be in Gavin’s way,” she said. “I just cannot keep the boy on my own.”
“Are you able to help her financially, Gavin?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what she needs.”
“See, those are the easy answers.” Abigail let go of both of us and returned to her folder. “I’m going to hold on to these papers for now. Rosa, let’s get you and your son safely in Mexico.” She turned to me. “You can plan to visit, help her get settled. I’ll get you appointments with the embassy, some legal aid, and we’ll start the paperwork. In the meantime, get to know your son. I think you’ll find as this settles out, the answers will become simpler.”
“Do you have anywhere to go?” I asked Rosa. “Will your brother kick you out?”
“I don’t know,” Rosa said. “He always helped me before, but the family is angry.”
“Why don’t we call him?” Abigail said. “That sounds like a place to start. You and I can go to my office. Is your boy all right? Do you need to get him?”
“He is with my cousin,” Rosa said. “He is okay.”
Abigail stood up and pulled an envelope from her folder. “Here is your copy of the DNA testing.” She handed it to me. “We’ll be in touch with you. Stay in touch with Rosa.”
I nodded and got up from the chair.
Rosa wiped her eyes and turned to me. “I am sorry I was not careful. But I am not sad about Manuelito. He is the best thing. A joyful boy.”
“I should have known better. I just wished I had known before.”
“This is my fault. I think he live okay with Letty.”
“He was meant to be with you.” I shoved the envelope in the pocket of my jacket. “We’ll figure this out.”
“Ask her, Gavin,” Rosa said. “Do not wait.”
“Ask what?”
“To marry. Ask her today. Very soon. She will not wait. I know a woman’s heart. You must do it now.”
I glanced at Abigail, but her expression was unreadable.
Maybe Rosa was right. I knew exactly what I had to do.
35: Corabelle
I sulked in the back of Jenny’s car. Tina sat in the passenger’s seat, and the two of them were already talking about restaurants and music like they were old friends.
“I don’t see why anybody would want to go to the beach on a day like this,” I said. Out the window the sky was bright and the wind was actually sort of gentle, but the air was still cold.
“I’m your therapist, and I say you have to face the beast,” Tina said. “Back to where your troubles began.”
We pulled into a parking lot near La Jolla. We weren’t anywhere near the spot I’d gone into the water a week ago, but the ocean was the same, blustery and whitecapped. All my life, I had felt connected to it, as though it was leading me to my future, my happiness. But now, it was the enemy.
“I’m pretty sure no licensed psychiatrist would think this is a good idea,” I said.
Jenny killed the engine and turned around, her pink hair vivid against the backdrop of sand and sea. “I’m full of bad ideas.” She opened her door. “Come on.”
Jenny jerked a picnic basket from the trunk and led the way along a path that angled toward the beach. A few lone gulls circled the shore. Otherwise, the oceanfront was deserted.
“I can’t believe I haven’t been here before,” Tina said. “All work and no play.”
“You find a place yet?” Jenny asked.
“Nah. I’ll wait and see if they bring me on full-time. Besides, I’m kind of digging the room service and daily cleaning ladies at the hotel.”
“That’s got to be killing your earnings,” Jenny said.
“Not as bad as you think. It’s pretty seedy.”
“So did Dr. Hunk convince you to go out?” Jenny asked.
I had forgotten all about the doctor interested in Tina. Too much trouble of my own.
Tina glanced at me, realizing I had talked about her with Jenny. She shrugged. “He didn’t show up. Neither did his patient. Whatever.”
I trudged along behind them, realizing that it wasn’t nearly as cold as I had thought. In fact, after a couple minutes, I stripped my gloves and scarf away and stuffed them in the pocket of my coat.
Two days had passed since the test. Last night I had actually talked to Gavin on the phone a while. He told me Rosa was leaving for Mexico this afternoon to meet her brother, but Manuelito would remain behind for the time being, with her cousin.
Her brother had actually been sort of worried about her disappearance, so she still had a job and a place to live.
I didn’t understand how any of this would work. How much could a three-year-old understand about the changes his life had undergone in so short a time? The man he thought was his father was gone, replaced by this man he had never seen. One mother had let him go and another was now taking care of him.
Children were resilient. But I worried for him, if he would carry long-term insecurities from the upheaval. I didn’t know who I would be to him, if anyone at all. It seemed best if I just let them work things out before Gavin and I made any move toward a future together.
A cluster of people were standing together ahead. The glare on the water and the sand made it hard to see more than a shadow. Tina and Jenny glanced at each other, and I knew something was up.
“What have you planned?” I asked, catching up to them, squinting down the stretch of shore.
They surrounded me on either side.
“Well, as your unlicensed, untrained mental health professional,” Tina said, “I made the call that the place that once tried to take you out of this life is the very spot to bring you back in.”
“What are you talking about?” But I didn’t listen for an answer, as I could make out Gavin in the group of people ahead of us. I halted. “What’s he doing here?” And a woman. And a boy. Rosa and Manuel? And another man, holding a camera. A photographer?
I panicked. Were they getting married, here on the beach? And were they dragging me to it? The girls tried to move me forward, but I was rooted to the ground. “What is this?” My voice was strangled.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Jenny said. “I know that sound. This is not a bad thing. We promise. It’s a good thing. A very very very good thing.”
“Then why is she here? And — and the boy?”
“Well, that wasn’t our call,” Tina said. “But we went with it.”
“You have to tell me what’s going on, or I’m going to take off running.” And I meant it.
“Can you just trust us?” Jenny asked. “Just this once?” She stood in front of me. “Oh, and let’s fix your ’do.” She spread my hair out along my shoulders.
“Stop it.” I pushed her hands away. “Tell Gavin to come here and explain it.”
“Fair enough.” Jenny whirled around and wolf-whistled. “Yo, Gavin! Your woman needs you for a second.”
He began striding toward us. The others waited a moment, seeming uncertain, and followed at a slower pace.
When he got close enough, I asked him, “What is this about, Gavin? Why is everyone acting like I can’t handle the truth?” It didn’t make sense, any of it. Gavin would have told me if he was going to marry Rosa, for a green card or legal stuff or for real.
He took both my hands in his and brought them to his lips. “I’ve been convinced that I need to act,
and act now. We should finish something we started a long time ago.”
“So here?” Jenny asked. “You’re off script.”
“This is as good a place as any,” Gavin said.
My frustration grew. They had all planned something, talked about me without my knowing.
Jenny set the basket on the ground and dug around a minute, finally handing him a little scroll, a paper tied with silver ribbons. I knew it instantly. The proposal he had written me four years ago, after we had gotten pregnant with Finn.
“I had to revise it a little,” he said, and unfurled the page.
Now I understood.
Rosa, her boy, and the other man had approached but stayed a few feet away.
Gavin cleared his throat. “I know now that our lives have changed you may no longer want to get married, but I do. I have wanted to marry you since we went to your Aunt Georgia’s wedding and hid beneath the cake table when we were five, fingers sticky from sneaking frosting, always together, even when we were in trouble.”
Tears squeezed from my eyes as I remembered the first time he’d read from the scroll, seventeen years old, his voice shaking. He wasn’t a whole lot steadier this time.
“We’ve had a lot happen since the first time I asked you this, but it’s shown me how important you are, and how empty my life has been without you. I know I have a lot to prove, not just to you,” he glanced down at Rosa’s boy, who had come up beside him, “but to everybody.”
He took another breath. “I can’t do this without you. I know you don’t have to stay. I can only hope you’ll want to. That you’ll have me. And we all can be together for always. Will you marry me?”
Gavin eyes were impossibly blue, brighter than the ocean behind him, more intense than the sky overhead. I’d grown up looking into them, and they had witnessed almost every tragedy my life had endured. I had promised myself that no matter what happened with this boy, I would see him through it. He was telling me he would do the same, right in front of the people who would be impacted most by what happened today.
