by Iris Parker
“Jessie!” Alton snapped, grabbing my wrist and squeezing it as he spoke. Hearing him say my name shook me to the core, piercing through the fog in my head for just a moment. “If you didn’t do this for money, then why did you do it?”
But it wasn’t just anger in his voice, I finally realized. Beneath that was another emotion, one that I’d become all too familiar with.
Desperation.
As much as I knew it would hurt Alton to find out about his son, keeping him in the dark like this was also hurting him. A whole new flood of guilt threatened me, but this time I was able to turn it aside. Hating myself to the point where I couldn’t speak wasn’t going to solve anything, it only made things worse.
“I can explain,” I said finally, my eyes unable to meet his. “But it won’t be pretty. Once you hear it, there’s no going back.”
“Go ahead,” Alton said, squeezing my wrist again as he spoke. Was that in anger? Reassurance? Did he even realize he was doing it?
It didn’t matter anymore, I realized. Alton had made his choice, and I’d made too many excuses already. It was time.
I still had no idea how to tell him, but I could show him. Alton let go of my wrist as I pulled away, freeing my hands to retrieve my wallet and open it. With slow, trembling fingers, I extracted a picture of Ezra. It was an old photo, old enough that he’d been in perfect health back then.
Before the cancer, he was as happy and healthy as any five-year-old. I still remembered the warm sun and salty air as he played on the beach, laughing while I took the picture. Short brown locks framed his angelic face, my chest twisting as I remembered how big he used to smile in those days.
He never smiled anymore.
I felt dizzy as I handed the picture to Alton, my heart pounding and my head spinning.
Alton looked at the photo and then back at me, his forehead wrinkled in confusion.
“This is my son, Ezra,” I said, my voice breaking as the words struggled to come out of my throat. “He is—” A few tears streamed down my face before I could even try to stop them. I grabbed a paper napkin and furiously tried to contain the barrage of sadness I knew threatened to overcome me.
Alton didn’t say anything, giving me time to continue. The dizziness got worse and the room spun around as I finally made real eye contact. He didn’t understand yet, but he would.
“He's a sick little boy. Very sick,” I whispered. My voice cracked as I uttered the one word that I’d grown to despise more than anything in the world. “Leukemia.”
Through my tears, I could see the confusion on Alton’s face turn to shock. The angry squint he’d had since we ran into each other was gone now, replaced by a look of wide-eyed shock.
“I was—” I paused, the rawness in my voice making my throat ache. “I didn’t do this for money. I did it to save my son.”
Alton shook his head, confused. “I don’t understand.”
“I got pregnant,” I said, short on breath as I spoke. “To have a savior baby.”
“Savior baby?”
“Cord blood,” I swallowed hard. “The baby’s cord blood could be used as a cure. A way to fix the sick cells in Ezra’s body.”
Alton’s brow furrowed.
“I’ve heard of that before,” he said, his earlier confusion back with force. “But that only works if they’re a match, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, you need a match,” I agreed, feeling utterly terrified and foolish. “And we didn’t get one.”
“Of course not, the odds of that are practically zero,” Alton said, shaking his head. “Why would you even think that would work? You can’t just sleep with a random man and expect the baby to be a genetic match for another kid. That’s just…crazy.”
“Not random,” I croaked as I burrowed my face in my hands.
“Not random?” Alton’s voice was resigned and exasperated, and I sank a little lower in my chair.
“No,” I whispered. “Ezra is the baby’s brother.”
Alton
It took a moment for the news to kick in.
I was so focused on understanding the details of Jessie’s and Ezra’s plight that, for a second, the meaning behind her words didn’t quite register. Even as they sunk in, it felt like I must’ve misunderstood. What she was saying made no sense at all, but yet obviously it had to mean something.
I stared at Jessie, trying to fit all the pieces together in a way that made sense.
Ezra was the baby’s brother, so they had the same parents.
Which would mean that—
—No, that didn’t make any sense at all.
Jessie was the mother of both children.
Therefore, any baby would’ve been related to Ezra no matter what.
So all Jessie needed to do was to find some random—
—Except I wasn’t random, she’d deliberately chosen me.
Why had she done that? It still didn’t make any sense. Why would she have wanted me specifically to father the baby? Wouldn’t it have made way, way more sense for her to just track down Ezra’s dad?
Unless—
No, that was impossible. I’d never met Jessie before this year, I was sure of that. There’s no way I would’ve forgotten her, and I sure as hell never could’ve forgotten having sex with her.
So there was just no chance, none whatsoever. It was impossible. It was—
The final piece of the puzzle finally landed on me like a car hitting me in the stomach, knocking the wind out of me as I sputtered in shock. I suddenly remembered, in vivid detail, that stupid pact I’d made with Dominick.
Jesus, we were still practically kids ourselves back then. Fresh out of college, what had we been thinking? It’d seemed like a great idea at the time. A way to honor Nicole and celebrate her life, a good deed that’d help some stranger without any personal consequences.
I looked up at Jessie, then again at the picture of Ezra. Then my eyes slid back to Jessie, down to the prominent bulge in her belly.
One hell of a consequence.
“Ezra? You mean I’m…” I began, my mouth and lips dry.
“His father, yes,” Jessie finished, hugging herself as she spoke. “Fairview Fertility Clinic. I’m so sorry, Alton. I never meant to hurt you.”
I just nodded slowly. What else was there to say? Words were useless.
Except for one word.
“Leukemia?”
“Yes,” she said, her whisper barely audible over the racket of my pulsing heart. We both bowed down our heads, and remained silent for the next few minutes. I was still trying to process the shock of the news—the new shocking news, the third revelation today. Finding out that Jessie was pregnant had been one thing, but this was even harder to stomach.
I was the father of an older boy, and he was on the brink of death.
And his mother had seduced me to save his life, and it hadn’t worked.
“How is he doing?” The words came out of my mouth and felt like they were burning my throat.
“Not, uh, not great,” Jessie stuttered, blinking away the tears. I watched as they slid down her cheek, slowly trailing towards the table.
“And how is the baby?”
“As healthy as it gets,” she explained in a breath. “There’s nothing genetic about Ezra’s disease, so she’s not at risk.”
A jolt of emotion ran through me, traveling up my back and to my mouth as a groan of surprise.
Jessie looked up at me questioningly.
“She?” I asked.
“I just found out this week,” Jessie added, blushing as she ran her palm over her protruding belly. “It’s a girl.”
For a second, the image of a little girl with the same blond locks as her mother flashed in my head. I groaned again, chasing the thought away.
“And she can't….” My voice trailed off.
“No,” Jessie said, the word strangled and hushed as fear carried through her voice. “She’s not a match. Not at all.” Her voice cracked, and she hid her face in her ha
nds just before the ears came back in earnest.
From the pit of my chest, a warm feeling emanated through to the rest of my body. I could feel the hair standing straight up on my arms, and my hands prickled with the need to console and protect her. I was still reeling from the shock of the revelations and Jessie’s betrayal, but I couldn’t find it in me to be mad at her any longer. She wasn’t some con artist looking to take advantage of me, she was a mother who’d gone to the ends of the earth to save her son.
I reached out, trying to reassure her with a soft touch. Jessie gasped a little and looked at me, her red-rimmed eyes a stark contrast to the paleness of her skin. After a second I stood up and circled around the table, moving a chair close to Jessie before sitting down next to her. She looked at me with a mix of sadness and longing that I now understood much better, and I nodded.
With a shudder, Jessie leaned against my chest and I opened my arms wide, her tear-streaked face resting against my shoulder as she stared into the distance. I didn’t hesitate before closing my arms, embracing her with a warm glow that pushed away the last traces of fear and anger I’d been holding onto.
It was a feeling like no other. The closest I’d ever felt to this before was when I was young, trying to protect Nicole from our dad’s abuse. Except I’d been a kid then, powerless and helpless, and in the end I hadn’t been able to save her. I’d probably been running from my feelings ever since then, but I wasn’t a child anymore.
And now there were three lives depending on me.
I pulled Jessie tighter, gently rocking us back and forth with my embrace. We didn’t say anything, but we communicated volumes. Reassuring and tender, I let my actions speak clearly while words had no power.
I’m here, and everything is going to be okay.
I hoped I wasn’t lying.
Alton
Once again, I found myself walking down the halls of Boston Children’s Hospital.
Except this time was for very different reasons.
It had been hard to see the sad, tired faces of the young patients before, but I knew that today would be shattering. My stomach was already twisting on itself as I watched the room numbers count down, my gut tightening as I approached the one Jessie had given me.
My fingers gripped the plastic bag of toys I’d bought yesterday, the first thing that I had done after parting ways with Jessie at the café. I’d hoped that getting a little time alone would give me perspective, but now I knew the futility of the thought.
Whatever problems we faced, they went far beyond needing time to think. There was just too much to digest; Jessie pregnant with a baby girl and a ten-year-old boy on the brink of death.
Jessie pregnant with my daughter, my son in the hospital, I corrected in my head. After a lifetime of being convinced I’d never have children of my own, the words sounded surreal and unfamiliar.
But there we were.
And there I was, now facing the door to Ezra’s room. I’d never felt so nervous about knocking on a door before, but I knew that it was going to open a whole new chapter of my life. One I needed to face, but also one that nothing I’d ever done could’ve prepared me for.
Taking a deep breath, I raised my hand and knocked.
A muffled feminine voice said something on the other side, but I couldn’t make it out. The door opened slowly, at first revealing only darkness. After a moment Jessie stepped out, somehow looking even more tired and haggard than yesterday. A small smile crossed her lips when she saw me, but it didn’t quite reach all the way to her eyes.
My heart tugged in my chest.
“How are you doing?” I whispered, instinctively keeping my voice down low.
“Anxious,” she answered.
I knew the feeling.
I’d spent the past few hours in a damnable tug of war, alternating between wanting to rush to the boy’s side as soon as possible—and wanting to run away, to follow Jessie’s original plan and just pretend like this was none of my business. I cringed, feeling guilty about just how tempting the latter had been.
I already knew from talking to my lawyer about Dominick that I had no legal obligations to the child—at least not to Ezra—but walking away was easier said than done. As much as my instincts told me I needed to wash my hands of this whole ugly affair, I knew I couldn’t leave Jessie like this.
Or Ezra, for that matter.
Jessie took a few silent steps back from the door, letting me into the small hospital room. My hand accidentally brushed her belly as I entered, and my eyes immediately shot down to her stomach. I opened my mouth to apologize, but nothing came out.
The curtains were drawn, casting the room in shadowy darkness as the door closed behind me. My heart pounded hard in my chest as I looked at the bed in front of me, just barely making out an impossibly frail silhouette.
“He didn’t sleep,” Jessie said, her voice quieter than a soft breath. “The chemo,” she mouthed.
My eyes were adjusting to the light, allowing me to see in better detail. His emaciated form was desperately thin, with sunken cheeks that were colorless and grey in the darkness. The shadows that circled his closed eyes were even more pronounced than his mother’s, his lips almost translucent. He looked peaceful, but heartbreakingly fragile.
I couldn’t move, could barely breathe for fear of waking him up and robbing him of precious sleep. My heart was pounding thunderously in my ears, and part of me worried that even that might be too loud.
Jessie’s fingers touched my elbow, taking my attention and directing me to a large armchair across from the bed.
“He’ll be up soon,” she whispered.
“Because of me?” I mouthed, pointing to myself. The bag of toys crinkled softly in my hand, making me wince.
Jessie shook her head. “He never sleeps long,” she explained, her voice now cracking with the sadness she’d so expertly hidden from me five months earlier. I felt like a fool for not realizing the truth sooner, telling myself that maybe I could’ve changed things if only I’d known.
It was a feeling I’d experienced before, one that I’d lived with for many years before I finally learned its name.
Survivor’s guilt.
But unlike with my sister, this time I wasn’t too late. My son still had a chance at life, and I was determined to do anything I could to help. Even if it was just trying to cheer him up, I would do my best.
“Hockey fan?” I whispered to Jessie, softly nodding in Ezra’s direction as I asked.
“His favorite,” Jessie answered. The sound of her purse scraping against the table seemed like thunder in my ears, but Ezra didn’t stir as his mother retrieved her wallet. Inside was a picture that I hadn’t seen the day before, featuring a younger Ezra that looked little like the boy on the bed.
But who did look a bit like me, I realized with a shiver.
In the picture Ezra had a full mane of brown, wavy hair. His skin was practically glowing, vibrant and pink, as he grinned confidently at the camera. In his arms was a hockey stick, but he was holding it above his head—more a trophy than a tool. He was wearing a Bruins jersey that was a little too big for him, and told me a lot about how much he loved the sport.
“Imagine my surprise when I found you,” Jessie said, a soft blush taking over her cheeks. Her eyes softened and she looked adorable, like the woman I’d been dreaming of every night for half a year.
“How did you?” I asked, remembering the confidentiality clause that I’d signed with the fertility clinic. Judging by what had happened to Dominick, I knew that they weren’t the most professional outfit in the world, but two major breaches surprised me all the same.
“Lawyers. Bribes. Blackmail,” Jessie whispered. “No one wants publicity saying they did nothing to save a child’s life.”
“So they gave you my info,” I finished.
“No,” Jessie said quietly, and I wondered if I’d misheard.
“No?” I asked.
“That’s why they contacted you.”
“Contacted?” I repeated, uncertain of what she meant. “How?”
Jessie didn’t respond for a moment, her eyebrows scrunched together in concentration. What little color was left in her cheeks drained away as her face blanched, eyes wide with surprise. “Outside,” she whispered, gesturing towards the door.
I nodded, and the two of us quietly slipped back into the hallway where it was safe to talk.
“What do you mean, ‘how’?” Jessie asked, her arms wrapped around her chest. Her voice was louder now, filled with uncertainty and horror. “Last year.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.
Jessie was trembling now, fighting tears as she shook her head. “No. You knew. You knew there was some kind of emergency and you didn’t care. That’s why I—why you—why—” she stuttered, her words rapid and her voice frantic.
“Why you seduced me,” I finished. “Right?”
“I spent so much time hating you for that. When I met you it was…different. But I refused to forget. No matter how good you were, I refused to forget that you were letting Ezra die. That you were a monster,” Jessie said, tears now flowing freely. The words flooded out of her with ease now. “You mean—you mean that I didn’t have to trick you into getting me pregnant? You mean I sold my soul for nothing?”
“I’m sorry,” I said, reaching out to touch Jessie’s shoulder as I spoke. “I never read their letters. I thought they were asking for money, or trying to cover their asses after what happened to Dominick. I never dreamed they’d say anything like this.”
