The Switch

by Heather Justesen

  Still carrying around a sticky daughter, Tia dried her wet hand on her pants and reached into her front pocket for the phone. She maneuvered it open one-handed and tucked it into the crook of her shoulder. “Hello, Mom.” It used to be so much easier when the phones were like bricks instead of credit-card thin, she thought as she adjusted its position again.

  “I still haven’t gotten those blood types from you.”

  “I double-checked last night,” Tia said. It had been a couple of weeks since the conversation first came up. She had hoped her mom would have let it go for a more pressing imaginary emergency. “I was right the first time.”

  “Tia. This is a serious matter. Are you sure you weren’t looking at Lee’s paperwork?”

  “Mom, I checked, all right. You must be mistaken about Dad.” She pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose.

  “I’m not. Call him and ask. Your paperwork must be wrong. You should have your blood typed again to see what it really is.”

  “Fine, Mom. I’m sure you’re right.” Except you’re not. “I’ll check my other papers and get myself retyped if you want.”

  When she finally hung up the phone, Tia felt a headache building behind her eyes. She was already seeing spots and wavy lines—the aura that was always a precursor to her migraines. She hurried to the medicine cabinet and downed a migraine pill, praying it would kick the thing before she had to run Samantha to school. Tia really didn’t have time to deal with a migraine when she had to film her cooking segment in less than four hours.

  Six

  October seemed to slip away in a blink and was more than half over. Tia could hardly believe Samantha was turning six already. Six. It was mind boggling. It also meant a family birthday party with both of Tia’s parents. There were few things Tia found less soothing than any celebration including the warring factions. She knew having her grandmother as well as Lee’s brother and parents in attendance wouldn’t stop hers from snipping at each other. Thankfully Nichole’s family was joining them and she would help keep things moving along.

  The event started off predictably with Mona coming into the house, an enormous package in her arms which was covered in pink metallic wrapping and liberally decorated with beads and shiny ribbons. She greeted both her granddaughters with kisses and hugs, cooed and fussed, then proceeded to give Tia a rundown of everything that had gone wrong—real and imagined—over the past two days.

  Tia’s father, Ron, was far more level headed, though he also brought an over-sized gift, if not as flashily wrapped as his ex. He was tall and broad shouldered, thin faced with a full head of hair which had once been dark, but now was liberally sprinkled with white. He had a cheery grin and plenty of hugs and kisses for them all. “How are we doing this evening?” he asked as he helped his mother to a seat in the lounge chair.

  “Great, Dad. Everything’s ready, and Samantha loves her cake.”

  “It’s a fire truck. It’s so cool. Come see it!” Samantha grabbed her grandpa’s hand and dragged him into the kitchen to see the confection Tia had created for her.

  Glena chuckled as she watched it all. “I declare, that girl’s got more enthusiasm than a cheerleading competition.”

  “At least.” Tia took a moment to sit in the chair beside her grandmother. “How are things going?”

  “Right as rain, child. I suppose your mother’s still as crazy as ever. Something wrong with them genes of hers.”

  “Jeans?” Tia furrowed her brow, intentionally misunderstanding—it was a familiar refrain. “But she’s wearing slacks tonight.” Ron wasn’t the only one who didn’t get along with his ex-wife, though he usually managed to keep himself aloof, while Glena dished out as much ill will as Mona.

  “That’s a terrible pun, honey, but I’ll be good. Promise.” She pursed her lips and mimicked locking her mouth.

  The rest of the group trickled in over the next fifteen minutes. As long as Mona fussed with the food and drinks, she seemed more or less happy. Ron kept his distance, and Tia tried not to let her imagination convince her the walls were closing in.

  When the evening was nearly over and Tia started to think they would get away without a single argument between her parents, her mom entered the living room wielding a dripping dish rag. “You still haven’t gotten your blood types to me yet.”

  Tia plastered on her smile and kept her voice low. “Mom, I’ve already told you what our blood types are. I have two records agreeing with what I told you.”

  “Why does she need to know?” her father asked.

  Mona, of course, had to explain it all, which only increased her agitation.

  “So why don’t you believe her when she told you her blood type?” Ron asked, his hands on his hips. “And it’s not like they need to carry around medical bracelets. You’re so overprotective. Quit smothering the girl.”

  Mona slapped the wet rag onto the coffee table. “And now you’ll probably agree with her and say yours is different just to show me up!”

  “I’m A-negative. I don’t see how it has anything to do with this.” He scooped up the wash rag and carried it back into the kitchen.

  Nichole distracted the kids, while shooting concerned looks in Tia’s direction. Her husband, Gary, was outside with Wes and Garrett, but Lee’s parents watched the proceedings, nonplussed. Tia thought they really ought to be getting used to the frequent spats her parents held every time they all got together.

  “See, he even agrees with me. You better go get tested again,” Mona said to Tia.

  Ron’s eyes swiveled to Tia. “What are you?”

  “Does it matter?” She seriously wished they would let the whole thing drop. She could see the spots appearing in the periphery of her vision. A migraine was coming, but if she could calm the conversation and get her parents out quickly, maybe she’d be lucky and keep it down.

  Ron sent a sidelong glare at his ex-wife. “Yes, it matters. What’s your blood type?”

  What was with him? “B-positive.”

  The room grew silent except for the kids giggling and chattering.

  “Impossible,” Ron said after several seconds passed by. His expression was dark as a night with cloud cover.

  “That’s what I keep telling her, but she won’t listen,” Mona complained. “They sent her the wrong records or something.”

  “I have the test results. One of you must be wrong.” Tia scooped up the dirty plates from the coffee table and set them into the kitchen sink.

  “We’re not wrong.” Ron turned to his ex-wife and glowered silently. Tia was shocked since he generally managed to stay civil with Mona, even when she didn’t deserve it.

  Mona’s face turned red, but she lifted a finger and shook it in his face. “Don’t you glare at me like that. You’re wrong.”

  Lee’s parents looked distinctly uncomfortable at this point, but it was all Tia could manage to send them apologetic smiles.

  “Exactly how early in our marriage did you start cheating on me?” Ron’s voice was hard.

  Tia’s gasp was echoed by others in the room, though it was Mona who spoke up. “You promised never to bring that up.”

  Tia felt her stomach plummet to her feet. She did not just hear what she thought she heard. She couldn’t have.

  “How early?”

  “Chuck was the first and only,” Mona protested.

  “How can I be sure?” Ron asked. “She can’t be my daughter—”

  “It’s not true. I wasn’t with anyone else.” Tears flooded Mona’s eyes and poured down her cheeks “She’s yours, and I can’t believe you would mention it after all these years.” She stood and stalked out of the house.

  Silence filled the room. Tia felt like history was being rewritten. How could they have kept such a secret from her? She felt lightheaded from shock and pain teased at the edges of her senses. She could tell she would be sick soon. Relief poured through her when her in-laws stood in concert and gave hugs and kisses to the kids, slipping out in seconds. Wes followed. T
he traitor.

  Nichole came over, looking closely at Tia’s face. “You’re getting a migraine.”

  “Yes.” Tia rubbed her temples, knowing this was going to be a doozy.

  Nichole gave Tia’s arm a quick squeeze, then picked up Tristi and herded Samantha back to her room to change for bed. Tia figured her friend deserved sainthood and made a promise to herself to take over some cookies or a cake the next day.

  When Gary took his kids home for bed, Tia turned to her father. “Thanks for coming tonight, Dad.” She wasn’t sure what to say to him. Her parents had never told her the reason they’d split up, saying they’d decided they couldn’t live together anymore. How had he managed all those years knowing his wife had cheated on him?

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to cause a scene. I was so surprised by the topic.” He took her in his arms, but though his voice had been strong, he trembled as he held her to him.

  “Do you really think I’m not your daughter?” The thought made her heart sore. Hadn’t she endured enough already? How could this be happening?

  He was quiet for a long moment, then shifted back from her so he could look her in the eye. “I don’t care who your biological father is. You’re my daughter.”

  That soothed part of her pain away, but inflamed the rest of her worry. He really didn’t think he was her father. He thought her mother had stepped out on him. Of course, Mona had apparently given him reason to doubt her word, she admitted to herself. Still.

  “I better let you get to bed before you become sick.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I love you, honey.”

  “I love you too, Dad.” Tears flooded Tia’s eyes and she fought to stay in control. She watched her dad walk out into the night, pulling the door closed behind him. Tia took something for her head, then moved to put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, wrap what remained of the fire truck cake she had made, and prepare for bed. She moved in a haze, the pain and shock slowing her movements. Her stomach rolled and her head pounded and she could still see lines and squiggles in her vision, but she pressed on—someone had to.

  Nichole came out of the girls’ room and joined Tia in the living room. “I don’t know how long they’ll stay there, but they’re asleep for now.”

  “Thanks.” Tia fought to stay upright. “I appreciate it. I better get to bed before I puke.”

  “All right. Let me know if you need anything else,” Nichole said before leaving.

  She was such a lifesaver, Tia thought as she slid into bed a minute later, praying the girls would sleep through the night, and she’d feel better in the morning.

  Seven

  The phone rang again, but noticing her mother’s number, Tia ignored it and guided the stroller around the emergency preparedness fair. She was not taking Mona’s calls. Not right now when she needed strength and endurance. She texted her mom saying she wanted time to think, and please not to call anymore.

  The struggle with the truth—her parents had split up because mother had cheated on her father, and Ron may not be her biological father—was more than Tia could bear. Then an evil little voice whispered that Mona could be telling the truth. If she was, did it mean Tia wasn’t their child at all? She pushed the thought away as soon as it came, not wanting to consider the possibility. It was so far-fetched.

  Instead she’d moved through the day taking care of other things. Tomorrow would be soon enough to face her questions.

  Tristi spilled juice down the front of her shirt and started to fuss, Samantha tripped over a cord that had been taped down on the floor. But she popped back up, her eyes still wide with excitement at all of the booths around her. She had a butterfly painted around her right eye and a purple balloon on a string as they wended their way through the crowd from booth to booth, picking up tips for severe weather safety.

  “Look, Mom,” Samantha said, pointing. “The ambulances and fire trucks!”

  Tia smiled wanly, already wishing they were done for the day and she could take a nap. “Let’s go check them out.”

  They peeked into the back of a truck marked “Tender” when Tia saw movement and looked up to see Danny stop beside her, wearing his uniform. “Hi,” he greeted her. “I hoped I’d see you here today.”

  “Hello.” Tia felt a small flutter in her chest at his smile. She noticed Samantha glance up and catch sight of him, the look of hero worship clear in her face. She waved from Tia’s other side and he greeted her.

  “You never came by to check out the ambulance,” he whispered to Tia.

  “We’ve been really busy.”

  “I’m sure you have.” He stuffed his hands in his back pockets. “You look tired.”

  That’s because I haven’t slept much in three days. She wasn’t about to say it, though. It would only encourage him to ask more questions. “Thanks. I love it when people tell me I look awful.”

  “That’s not what I meant. You couldn’t look awful if you tried.”

  Despite herself, she felt her face grow warm. She’d never gone in for the smooth type before, the guys with the golden tongue. Or maybe it was more accurate to say none of them had ever taken an interest in her. Still, she couldn’t help but be intrigued by Danny. The tug of attraction she’d felt for him the first day they met increased every time they spoke.

  “Are you having a good time?” he asked Samantha, though his glance back at Tia included her.

  “Yes, it’s fun here. Do you like my butterfly?” Samantha grinned. “I got to be fingerprinted earlier.” She held up her hands, which were still a little grubby from the ink.

  “Fun. Let’s hope we never need them.” He helped her onto the back of the fire truck and explained everything there, drawing out their time together and answering Samantha’s questions with endless patience.

  When they were done, Danny set Samantha on the floor again and turned to Tia. “I wondered if you’d be interested in coming over for dinner at my place? I have some chicken in the freezer I could pop on the grill. Doubtless you have some recipe you need to test on a guinea pig.” His lips turned up in a flirtatious smile.

  “Yeah, Mom, can we?” Samantha asked.

  “I don’t know.” Tia wanted to say yes, felt the tug of excitement at his offer, but at the same time, she hardly knew him. They’d only met a few times. “The girls will tear your place apart.”

  “I’m not worried about a little cleanup, but if you’d prefer, you can invite me to your place. I think I could find it again.” His easy grin was disarming.

  “Please, please, please, Mom!”

  “Pease, pease,” Tristi chimed in, though Tia doubted she had the first clue what Samantha wanted. She just liked to do and say the same things as her sister. And she was too darn cute to tell no.

  Tia was afraid her mother would ‘drop by’ to talk things out that evening, so though she wasn’t sure the visit was a great idea, she looked up into Danny’s eyes again and found herself nodding. “If you’re sure.”

  “I am.” He pulled out a scrap of paper from his pocket and wrote a hasty note. “My apartment’s pretty easy to find.”

  She glanced at the address and directions. She knew the area. “That’ll be fine. Five o’clock and I’ll bring dessert?”

  “Perfect.” He set a hand on Samantha’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll see you ladies then.”

  * * *

  Tia found her stomach tightening in knots as she approached Danny’s apartment building. The past few days had been a real rollercoaster and she wasn’t sure dinner with him was a wise idea. On the other hand, Mona had left several messages on Tia’s phone after being told not to call. She’d threatened to visit if she didn’t hear back soon. Tia had sent her mom a text, saying she was taking the kids somewhere for the evening and would call the next day. She hoped to discourage Mona from popping by unannounced, but doubted it worked.

  “Are we there yet?” Samantha asked as they pulled into the parking lot at Danny’s.

  “Yes, we’r
e here.” Tia refused to let herself second guess the decision to come to dinner, even though a hundred scenarios for how the evening could go had run through her head on the drive—all of them ending badly.

  She handed the pie to Samantha and released Tristi from her car seat, then plastered on a smile.

  Danny’s grin flashed when he opened the door. “Welcome to my small, and humble abode.” He tweaked Samantha’s hair as she walked past, “I see you brought a pie. What kind?”

  “Apple. It’s yummy!” Samantha answered.

  He shut the door behind Tia and turned back to Samantha. “I can’t wait, but what are the rest of you going to eat while I eat this?” Danny took the pie and unpackaged it, sucking a deep, exaggerated sniff.

  Samantha put her hands on her hips and gave him an annoyed look. “It’s not only for you. You have to share.”

  “I do?” His eyes landed on Tia’s face. “You brought something this delicious and you’re going to make me share?”

  “I’m afraid so.” She set Tristi on the carpet. “This is a different variation than I’ve tried before. You’ll have to tell me what you think of it.”

  She took a surreptitious look around the scrupulously clean apartment. It was sparsely furnished, but a few pictures on the wall turned the décor from bland to personal. She liked the picture of him standing in front of a fire truck in full turnouts, his helmet tucked under his arm and his face black with soot. Other pictures were of friends and family and one of him and a dark-haired woman sat on the entertainment center. Several of him and the woman were scattered around the space, she realized after a moment, though many held other people as well. She caught him watching her as she looked at the photos, but he didn’t explain. She didn’t ask.

  “It smells awesome, so I know it’ll be good.” He set the pie on the counter and turned back to the pasta salad, giving it a final stir and launching into questions about how she managed to land the cooking show.