Hold on to Hope

The last was a tease.

Felt like deliverance that sloshed through my bloodstream.

I sank down onto the chair.

“Thank God,” fell from my tongue in a slur as the weight I’d been carrying since the second I’d had Everett in my arms lessened a fraction.

Dad touched my knee to get my attention. “Hey, Evan. Need you to hear this.”

I held up a finger for him to give me a second, and I stood up and moved for Everett where he was swinging that toy all around.

What I needed right then was to wrap him up and hold him close.

I pressed my lips to the back of Everett’s head where he sat facing out on my lap.

“He’s beautiful, Evan.” For a beat, the white coat was gone, my father in its place. His eyes warm and brimming with the faith he’d raised me with. “Beautiful. I can’t believe I have a grandson.”

Dad lifted his hands to sign, like he needed to be direct, ensure that I was understanding what he was saying. IF HE CAME IN HERE WITHOUT YOUR FAMILY HISTORY?

I nodded understanding, my heart going spastic at the reference.

The curse.

I WOULD HAVE NO CONCERNS. I’D BE CONFIDENT HE WAS ONE-HUNDRED PERCENT HEALTHY, he continued, hands moving distinctly, emotion packed in the emphasis. I’D CLEAR HIM AND SEND HIM HOME AND SAY TO FOLLOW UP FOR HIS EIGHTEEN-MONTH WELL-CHECK.

More relief.

Dad leaned forward a little more, the rhythm of his hands growing more forceful.

RIGHT NOW, I’M NINETY-NINE PERCENT SURE THAT IS THE CASE. BUT BEFORE WE CAN COME TO THAT CONCLUSION, HE HAS TO HAVE A COMPLETE GENETIC WORKUP. IT’S THE ONLY WAY WE CAN BE CERTAIN HE DOESN’T HAVE THE SAME DEFORMITIES THAT YOU WERE BORN WITH.

Dad’s throat tremored, and I could see his own ghosts and demons simmering deep in the well of his eyes.

BECAUSE OF YOUR MEDICAL HISTORY, I’D ALSO LIKE HIM TO SEE THE PEDIATRIC CARDIOLOGIST.

It was instinct.

The way I hugged Everett fiercely.

Like if I held him close enough, I would never have to let him go.

Dad watched me with pure hesitancy. “Do you have any of his prior medical records?”

Regret shook my head. NO. THE ONLY THING SHE LEFT ME WITH WAS A DIAPER BAG.

That and a car seat she’d left sitting outside the door.

“All right . . . we’ll just . . . go about this the best that we can. Hopefully the attorney can track her down quickly. Get the judge to order temporary custody so you can sign to obtain his records.”

That was a worry, too.

If the state would come in and snatch him up and place him in foster care.

Deem the situation too chaotic.

My care unfit.

I’d already given a blood sample this morning so I could at least prove paternity before we got the law involved.

The attorney said that was the first step.

Then getting me on his birth certificate.

The rest of it would have to go from there.

“He needs us to do the best that we can for him, Evan.”

“I’ll do absolutely anything. I just . . .” Misery twisted my brow in a plea. “How am I supposed to be a father when I have no fucking idea if I’m gonna be around?”

Grief streaked through Dad’s expression. “None of us gets the luxury of knowing that, Evan. Not one of us. And I know your situation is different, but being a father is giving your child every single one of your days. However many of them there are. That’s what matters.”

“I just . . . want to be enough.”

And that was the problem.

Wasn’t ever sure that I could be.

Emotion welled in his eyes. “You’ve always been, Evan . . . more than enough for all of us. I don’t think you ever really realized what a blessing that you are. How you made us all better people for being you. How you changed our worlds and in a better way.”

My gaze drifted to my son who’d slid off my lap and was standing between my knees.

“You want to tell me about his mother?” Dad hedged.

Last night we’d tiptoed.

Only the barest facts given.

Not that I had a whole lot of information to contribute, anyway.

HER NAME IS ASHLEY. Decided to sign it, not sure I could get it out if I attempted to say it aloud.

“And who is she?”

In discomfort, I roughed a hand through my hair. “Girl from my complex.”

Speculation and confusion lifted his brow. “And . . . you were in a relationship with her?”

Didn’t matter that I couldn’t hear him. Could feel the degree of hesitation his questions were coming with.

Didn’t know what it was that shook my head—shame or remorse or just plain surrender. “More like I was drunk and lonely.”

Just trying to fill up that vacancy.

I touched Everett’s hand, still unable to comprehend that something so magical could come from something that had been so superficial.