by Imani King
Ken Stone, my lawyer, brought up the idea of a paternity test seemingly out of the blue. It's not that I wasn't aware that men could be tricked into believing they had fathered children that they hadn't, it just didn't really occur to me in a serious way until he pressed the issue. Maybe it was ego, maybe it was just Larissa's seemingly absolute certainty that I was the father, I don't know. I asked Ken if he thought it was really necessary.
"Are you kidding?" he responded, surprised.
"Well, no, not really. She seems pretty sure."
"They always seem sure, Dallas. They usually seem extra sure when the father is wealthy."
"But she didn't know I was wealthy," I replied. "Not, uh, not when it happened."
Ken chuckled. "I'm surprised you're being so blasé about this. I know you can afford support payments, but don't you want to know? Don't you want to be certain? I've never had a client who didn't."
I only consented to asking Larissa to bring Bentley to an agreed-upon medical facility for a DNA test to appease my lawyer. It was later that night, sitting alone in my cabin as the evening shadows stretched across the room, that I got to thinking about why it didn't seem to matter to me as much as it should have.
I'm not the most introspective guy, but all it took was some brief rumination to realize what was going on – I wanted Bentley to be my son. Larissa was a problem, that was obvious, but I was pretty sure she could be persuaded to back off with a big enough financial incentive. But Bentley – he was mine. Wasn't he? And my head was already filled with visions of teaching him how to fish, how to ride a horse, guiding him through the journey of his childhood the way my wealthy, spoiled parents had utterly failed to do with me. Sure, I had every material thing a kid could want, but my dad wasn't around most of the time, he was always off on business trips and attending meetings. My mom didn't have much to do except focus on me. I became her confidant at an early age, and most of my childhood was spent emotionally supporting a grown woman in her privileged but lonely life as the wife of a powerful man.
It didn't take a trained therapist to see that, in Bentley, part of me saw a second chance for myself. Ken was right, though. The paternity test had to be done, even if I was already half-dreading one of the possible outcomes. I'd never considered parenthood. When Larissa showed up and almost literally dropped a new reality into my lap, I got used to it a lot faster than I thought I would. I called Ken the next day and officially instructed him to demand shared custody, and to take the option of no visitation off the table completely, pending the outcome of the paternity test.
A trip into River Bend a couple of days later was unavoidable. I needed a part for one of my pieces of farm equipment and it would have meant an hours long drive to go anywhere else. So I saddled Ranger up and tied him in the usual spot, outside Parson's Grocery. I did not look inside to see if I could spot Tia. In fact I did a fairly good job of convincing myself I wasn't even thinking about her. When I was leaving the auto-parts store, though, I almost ran smack into Amber Ketcher.
Instead of apologizing, I just dodged around her, pretending I didn't see the angry look on her round face.
"Hey."
She was talking to me. I ignored it.
"Hey!"
Footsteps. She was following me. Goddamnit. I got back to Ranger and started untying him.
"HEY!"
Amber shoved me and anger flared up in my chest. "You're going to get kicked if you don't back off," I growled. "Ranger isn't friendly."
"How noble of you to hide your own failings behind a horse," she responded, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I don't think he's ever been dangerous, has he? You're just an asshole. And you use this horse to intimidate everyone in town."
That made me turn around. Who the hell did Amber Ketcher think she was? The goddamn decent person police?
"What?" she asked, seeing that I was pissed off. "Don't like being called an asshole? That's weird, you seem to go out of your way to make everyone think that's exactly what you are."
I admit I was surprised by the level of hostility. I know women are protective of their girlfriends but Tia didn't seem like the type to lie just to cause drama. If Amber knew about Bentley she must also have known that he was conceived before I ever met Tia, and that I didn't even know he existed until very recently.
"What's your problem?" I asked. "I don't even know you."
Amber opened her mouth, as if she was going to say something, and then shut it again. I mounted Ranger and pulled on one of the reins, nudging him with my ankles. Amber's screechy, angry voice followed me.
"You should learn to wrap it up, Dallas Corbett! That's all I'm saying!"
Ugh. The last thing I needed was another woman telling me what a jerk I was. I'd already had enough of that to last several lifetimes. I rode away, totally ignoring the annoyed sighing coming from behind me at the same time as I actually kind of admired it. She was being protective of her friend – of Tia. And I wanted Tia to have people in her life who felt protective of her.
That evening, after the new part had been fitted, my lawyer called again.
"It's not your kid."
I didn't hear him at first, I was making too much noise washing dishes.
"Hold on, let me sit down."
I turned the water off and sat down. "What was that?"
"Don't go celebrating just yet, Dallas, but I'm pretty sure the kid isn't yours."
I heard the words, but it took a few moments for them to sink in.
"Huh?"
"Larissa Miller is fighting the paternity test. We've got her by the balls."
"I – uh, wait – so she hasn't even had Bentley tested yet? So why are you saying –"
"They never try to dodge a DNA test if they aren't worried about the results. Now, I'm not saying he definitely isn't yours, but this is a good sign. A very good sign. And we can press the issue for sure – if she refuses to submit to the test, no judge is going to award her any financial support."
The sweat on my neck suddenly felt cold and clammy. Larissa was fighting the DNA test – and I didn't really need Ken Stone to explain to me what that might mean.
"So," I started, trailing off when I realized I had no idea what to say – or what to feel.
"So, for now, nothing. I'm going to talk to her lawyer tomorrow, but I wanted to keep you in the loop. This is looking good. If all goes well, you could be off scot-free by next week. I'll call you when I know more."
Ken hung up and I leaned back in my chair, trying to take it all in. She wouldn't do that, would she? Sure, she seemed nuts, but she didn't seem totally stupid. Who would try to fake paternity in the modern world, knowing that DNA tests exist? But, on the other hand, who would get cagey about having her baby DNA tested if she was as sure as she said she was about paternity? My head was spinning. And even as it spun, I knew that the one thing I wanted to do was impossible. I wanted to call Tia. I wanted to see her, to talk to her. There was no one else in my life who made me feel that way.
I leaned forward and put my head in my hands. Was I entirely full of shit? Had I just spent three years pretending I was fine with living my life for myself alone – rather than actually being fine with it? And why did I think Tia would even be interested in hearing my sob story? She'd probably written me off within a couple of days of our last conversation.
There was a raw bleakness in my heart that night as I lay in the dark just before falling asleep. I was supposed to be OK alone. Not just OK but good. But there was no denying the fact that Tia was gone. And now it looked like Bentley might be gone, too. And I knew I wasn't ready to face what either of those things really meant.
Thirteen
Tia
Marcy and Amber accompanied me to my first ultrasound exam. I was ambiguous, unsure of what I was going to make feel, but oddly curious to see visual proof of something I still wasn't quite sure I believed. Namely, that I was pregnant with Dallas Corbett's baby. It still didn't seem real. Other than the weird breast tenderness,
there was still no signs. I didn't feel nauseous, my appetite was the same, my belly still looked the same.
My friends were very sweet and protective of me, which I admit I enjoyed. It felt good to be taken care of. When we walked into the clinic Amber ran ahead and opened the door and Marcy pointed to a small lip I needed to step over so I didn't trip.
I laughed. "You guys are like a couple of worried husbands!"
Marcy grinned. "Two husbands! That sounds great. Well, maybe boyfriends instead of husbands. Then I don't have to make two packed lunches for them in the morning."
When it was my turn to see the nurse all three of us watched, fascinated, as a small, dark splotch in the center of the screen came into view.
"Do you see that?" the nurse asked. "Do you see the heartbeat?"
She pointed to a small spot that looked almost like the fluttering wings of a butterfly and I immediately burst into shocked tears. Amber and Marcy were right there, putting their arms around me, murmuring reassurances.
Twenty minutes later, when we were back in the car, I still felt like I was in shock. Amber turned to me.
"Are you OK, Tia?"
"Yeah. I – yeah, I'm OK. Just a little surprised, maybe? I'm not sure I actually believed any of this was real, you know? And now –"
"Now you've seen it," Marcy said, from the back seat. "Now you know it is real."
"You know we've got your back, right?" Amber asked. "Whatever you decide."
Whatever I decided. I knew what that meant. And up until I'd seen that smudge on a computer screen, it had all seemed fairly simple. Either I was going to have a baby, or I wasn't – and it was my decision. But something had changed.
"I feel really strange," I said. "Do you think we can pull over or something?"
Amber pulled over and squeezed my hand. "Are you sick? Do you want me to go to Parson's and get you a ginger ale?"
"No," I replied. "I don't feel strange like that. I feel – I don't know how to explain this. I feel different after seeing it. After seeing the heartbeat. It feels like, oh my God I feel stupid saying this, but it feels like a baby now. It feels like... mine."
There was so much going on inside my head that afternoon, so many thoughts rushing by before I had a chance to really grasp or examine them.
"That makes sense," Marcy said quietly. "What are you thinking?"
I looked up at her, and then at Amber."I'm thinking about my parents. About Dallas. About myself. I'm not saying my parents would have been happy – they definitely would not have been. But, this baby is a part of them, isn't it? I saw that heartbeat on the screen and I just thought, that's their grandchild."
Amber surprised me by sniffling and wiping a tear off her cheek. "Sorry," she laughed, her voice cracking slightly. "I don't know why I'm getting all emotional. It's OK, you know. It's OK if you feel attached or if you want to consider having this baby, Tia."
I didn't even know that's what I was waiting for until she said it, but it was. Permission to feel, to want. Even though I knew – we all knew – what most people would say about a single nineteen year old with no college education having a baby. I saw that heartbeat and it was like none of it mattered, like some instinct deep inside me was asserting itself.
"Is it?" I asked worriedly. "I'm scared. I know what people say about young women having babies, especially if they're single. But I – I want to. I can't explain it, but I do."
"People say all kinds of things," Marcy told me. "Too young to have a baby, too old to have a baby, too poor, too this, too that. Listen. Look at me. You've got us. You've got your great-aunt and your great-uncle. Who knows, you may even have Dallas Corbett if he's interested in playing his part. What I'm saying is you have a lot of people who will help you – you're not alone."
We sat in silence for a little while as I processed my own emotions.
"Yeah," I spoke up, finally. "I want to have this baby. Maybe it's stupid but I don't even feel doubtful about this, not right now. I want to."
"Then you will," Marcy smiled at me. "And we're here one hundred percent."
"Oh my God," I breathed, putting my face in my hands and breathing deeply. "Oh my God. I'm having a baby? I'm having a baby?!"
We drove to Amber's apartment and they refused to let me help make dinner.
"We're going to be worse than any man," Marcy warned me, laughing. "No more opening doors for you. or lifting anything heavier than a purse."
There was one topic that we'd only briefly touched upon in the car. Dallas. Marcy and Amber were waiting for me to bring it up, giving me space. After we ate, I finally did.
"So... Dallas."
Amber looked at me pointedly. "Yeah, Dallas. I saw him a few days ago outside Parson's. I swear I almost punched him in the face."
"Did you?" I asked. "You saw him? You didn't say –"
"No, Tia, I did not say anything. I'm a super secret-keeper these days, remember? But I did, um – well, I was a little rude. Told him I thought he was using his horse as an excuse to be an asshole."
I put my hand over my mouth. "Did you? You didn't!"
"Oh you're damn right I did. It's funny, I don't even know why I was so mad. Well, I do – he should have known better, but –"
"So should I," I cut in.
They both looked at me and Marcy nodded. "You're right. You should have known better, too. But he's twenty-six, Tia. He's experienced. He knew you were a virgin. You both screwed up, I'm not saying it's all his fault. I'm just saying I think he's more responsible. You aren't just younger than him, you were in a vulnerable position for a couple of reasons. Your parents, plus the fact that it was your first time."
"It just pissed me off to see him walking around like he didn't have a care in the world," Amber added. "Looking all full of himself like he always does. I know what you've been going through, Tia, and it just made me want to kick his ass a little."
We all waited for someone else to mention the elephant in the room. In the end it was Amber who did.
"So when are you going to tell him? Or are you even going to tell him?"
I sighed. "I don't know. I have to tell him. And even if I don't sooner or later it's going to be obvious I'm pregnant, isn't it? Part of me just wants to get it over with. I've even thought about sending him a text instead of doing it face to face."
That was true. Texting Dallas Corbett the news that I was pregnant with his baby wouldn't have been right. But it would mean avoiding the look in his eyes when he found out, and the possibly bad reaction he might have. Not that he had any right to a bad reaction – the situation was as much his fault as mine. But, mostly, it meant avoiding the feelings in my own heart, the ones I was doing my very best to ignore in the hope that they would just fade away.
"Maybe you should text him," Marcy said. "He doesn't strike me as the type of guy who's going to be an involved father."
"What you should probably do is call a lawyer," Amber added. "If you're going to have this baby, Tia, he needs to do his part. It might be better for you to just let someone else handle it."
"I don't have any money," I responded. "Not enough for a lawyer, anyway."
Amber told me that her mom knew someone in River Bend who might be willing to do some work for a family friend at a reduced rate. But I didn't want to call a lawyer. I didn't say it out loud, because I was trying to keep up the pretense of being strong and in control for my friends, but it all sounded so cold and practical. Maybe that was how it was going to be? There's nothing like becoming a parent to highlight the need for practicality. I remembered my dad telling me something like that once when I saw a photo of him with his band, the one he quit two months before I was born.
I didn't stay too late at Amber's house that night. They were both great, full of optimism and reassurance. Without that and without them, who knows how I would have handled the whole situation? But when I got back home and fell into my bed, there was no hiding from the truth. I was terrified. Grateful for all the support I was already receivin
g, but terrified. What was I going to do?
I toyed with the idea of going back to Philly. The pull of the familiar was strong, but I knew I'd be even worse off there. Dani would let me stay with her, I knew that, but what would I do? Pregnant, nineteen, no qualifications? I would just be a leech, and that wasn't something I could tolerate. So was it just going to be River Bend, Montana and a low-paying job at a grocery store, then? Was that going to be my life, mapped out before I was even twenty years old?
My parents didn't raise me to be a snob. They raised me to be proud of my roots, humble though they were. But they had hopes for me – college, a career and yes, a family. But not a family before I was in my twenties and unmarried. I cried a little, thinking about what they would say to me if they were still alive, how disappointed they would be.
No matter how much I tried to tell myself that there was nothing wrong with River Bend and a job at Parson's Grocery, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was letting myself down somehow.
And alongside all of those doubts the stubborn certainty I'd felt that afternoon in the ultrasound clinic, the conviction that the baby growing inside me would be born, and that no matter what, I would do my best to provide him or her with a decent life, remained.
Less than a week later, after an evening shift at work, I found Dallas Corbett waiting for me beside my car in the otherwise deserted parking lot. My traitor heart leapt as soon as I saw him and I looked away, embarrassed, hoping he couldn't see how difficult it was to hide how I really felt.
"Tia," he said, his voice as deep as thunder in the distance.
