Edgar
I gather the pile of mail from the box and laugh. The last thing I wanted to do after finally having sex with my woman was leave her side, so I’d spent the week living from her house until my selection of clothing was depleted and I had to come home. Thanks to the marvels of the digital age, I didn’t even have to be here to pay my bills.
I take the bundle to the table and begin to sort. I roll my eyes at the flyers and loan offers. Nope. I tear them into tiny pieces and move on. An official letter catches my eye. Texas Department of Health? I rip the paper open. Acknowledgement of paternity for Betty Lucille Bird? My stomach churns. According to this piece of paper I have an eight-month-old daughter with Marilyn.
Sweat coats my forehead. I sway as I grow lightheaded. Suddenly her insistence that we have a child makes sense. Jesus Christ, was she already pregnant when she left? Dread rolls over me like a dark storm cloud. I never wanted this. We were always so careful. How did this happen? When? Why wouldn’t she tell me? I push back from the chair, unable to think straight a
s I pace the tile floor. Why now? I just got my shit together.
Oh my God, Efia. She doesn’t want kids. I have to talk to someone about this. I can’t bring this to my mother, she’ll freak. Right now, Efia is out of the question. I grab the phone and call up Addler.
“Hey, man, what’s up?”
“Can you come over right now?”
“Whoa, you okay?” Addler asks.
“You know what, bro? I’m really not.” My voice cracks and I take a deep breath to keep from losing my shit over the phone.
“Calm down, man. I was heading home, but I’ll come to your place. Give me fifteen minutes,” Addler says.
“Thank you.”
I hang up and go to the bar in the kitchen. Beer isn’t going to fit the bill. I pour myself a half a cup of Scotch and continue to pace as I try to make the calculations. She’d have to have been at least three months along when she moved out. Who does this? Suddenly my life has become a television drama. I don’t want to be a father. There’s a reason why I opted out. I spent so much of my life sacrificing for others. I’m not ready to do it again. My hand trembles. I may have to.
I’m man enough to take care of my responsibilities, but it would kill something inside of me. She did this, knowing it was not of my choosing. Had she done it on purpose? The thought fills me with horror. No, she wouldn’t. Would she? At this point, I can’t even defend her. I would’ve sworn she’d never leave me with no notice, or pull a Maury on me and I’d have been dead wrong. I hear Ad’s truck in the driveway. I rush to the door, opening it before he can even knock.
“You look totally freaked out. What happened?”
I lead him to the table and hand over the paper.
He scans the document and his eyes bulge. “What the fuck, man? Is this legit?”
“I’m pretty sure it is.”
“You know what she’s doing, right? She’s trolling you, setting up a path, so that she can ask for child support. Jesus, she’s probably trying to get retro for the past eight months.”
“I think this is why she left,” I whisper.
“The fuck. Why wouldn’t she just say something to you?”
I shake my head. “I don’t pretend to understand the shit that goes on in her head these days.”
“Dude, what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know what I can do.”
“Let’s look it up on the net.”
I nod, feeling more grounded with my boy by my side.
His fingers fly over the keys of his phone. “It says you have up to twenty-five days to protest this, and demand a DNA test. That’s your next step. Do you think it could be yours?”
“I want to say yes, but at this point I don’t know and I’m not willing to put it to chance.”
“All right, so contact you lawyer, brother, and take the steps swiftly. The court likes to side with mothers on this.”
“I have to tell, Efia.”