Chapter 22
Zane
“He’s yours,” Ashlyn’s words hang in the air for a moment before falling to the floor and shattering hard enough to make my ears ring. “Zane?”
“Mr. Calloway?” Matt, one of the cops asks, but I’m still trying to figure out just what the fuck is going on.
“Zane, did you hear me?” Ashlyn asks, holding the baby in one hand and the letter in the other.
“I heard you, I just don’t understand,” I say.
“The letter says–” she starts to read, but I march over to her.
“Let me see that,” I say, and she hands it to me.
Zane,
I don’t know if you remember me. Probably not.
You never seemed to notice me at all, even when we were together.
I was in love with you so much that when I found out I was pregnant with your child; I kept him.
But as much as I love him and as much as it hurts for me to do this, I can’t take care of him anymore. And I want you to have–
I stop and shove the letter back in the envelope. “This is ridiculous. Some chick I don’t even know is claiming we were involved so much that she is trying to convince me we had a baby together? It’s insane.”
“Were you involved with a woman enough to possibly get her pregnant?” Rodney, the other cops asks.
“Every time a man is involved with a woman, there’s a chance of her getting pregnant,” I say. Ashlyn tosses me a look.
“I always used protection,” I say in my defense.
“So the baby isn’t yours?” Matt asks.
“I doubt it,” I say.
“You doubt it or he’s not?” Matt asks.
“Without a test, how would I actually know?” I ask.
“Can I see the letter too, please?” Matt asks, and I hand it to him.
“You want a beer too?” I ask, and they both grin.
“Not tonight, Z,” Rodney says. “This is a pretty hefty case. We need to get it sorted out.”
Fair enough. I nod and cross my arms over my chest. Meanwhile, I watch as Ashlyn coos at the baby who is still suckling contently on her finger.
“The letter is signed by a Nikki with a heart for the dot on the i?” Matt asks.
“Right,” I let out a deep breath. “Of course it was her, but whatever she’s telling you, it’s not true. Nikki was a basket case.”
“Were you involved with her?” Rodney asks.
“We slept together,” I say. “Dated a little. But never anything serious,” I answer.
“Why not?” Matt asks. “Connection issues? Attraction, bad in the sack?”
“No. It wasn’t like that. We just weren’t compatible. She was also a little controlling to the point of being possessive,” I explain. “But I really don’t see how–”
“The first thing we need to do is get the baby to the hospital,” Ashlyn says, and she’s probably right.
“We have no idea how long he was out there, and he’s hungry.
He can’t be any more than four or five months old.
He needs breast milk or formula and a checkup.
We can worry about the logistics later.”
“Yes. You’re right,” I agree, walking over to Ashlyn. “I’m sure they’ll take good care of him and everyone will get it all figured out.”
Matt and Rodney both nod, and Ashlyn looks back and forth between me and them before clutching the baby closer to her chest. “I’m going with them,” she says. Then she looks at the cops and says, “I’m going with you.”
“Ashlyn, I don’t know if–” I start to say, but Matt cuts me off.
“If she wants to go to the hospital, it’s fine with us.”
“See,” she says. “It’s fine with them.”
Matt and Rodney head for the door, but I turn to Ashlyn.
“I’m sure the cops can handle it. It’s late and–”
“I’m going,” she says as she looks down at the baby who is fast asleep on her chest. Then her eyes flash up to mine. “I think you should come too.”
“Me? I’m not sure why I should–”
“Because the baby might be yours,” she said, and I snort.
“Allegedly,” I say, and the look she gives me is enough to burn my eyebrows off my face. “Okay, that’s not what I meant. It’s just…all of this is kind of a long shot. A baby on the doorstep? An explanation letter that felt a little more like an accusation. I just…it’s a lot…and we don’t–”
“If there’s even a chance the baby is yours, don’t you want to know?” she asks, and I stop, looking at her and then at the baby in her arms.
“Let me get a shirt on,” I say.
* * *
“I could have done this at home?” I ask as I fill out all the paperwork.
“Yeah. With less accuracy,” Ashlyn tells me.
“And less cameras,” I say, glaring at a nurse as she takes a photo of me before stuffing her phone into the pocket of her scrubs and walking away.
“A home test wouldn’t be accepted in court,” the nurse, who has the personality of a bear that missed the hibernation memo, says.
“What makes you think I’m going to court?” I ask, and she snorts out an unamused laugh. “You’re getting a paternity test for a mystery baby.”
My eyes narrowed, but Ashlyn is smiling. “As charming as you are, is there maybe another nurse that could do the test for me?” I ask.
“I’m not thrilled to be putting up with you either, sweetheart. You’re no Jett Navarro,” she says, and my eyes widen. “You know what? I think I’ll just make an appointment with my doctor,” I say, but as I turn to leave, Ashlyn grabs my arm.
“We’re already here,” she says, coaxing me down the hall with the nurse.
We go into a room that smells like rubber tubing and old air conditioning. The Queen of Charm asks me to sit up on the bed.
“Is this going to be invasive?” I ask, and she turns around with a long cotton swab.
“Define invasive.” She says, and my expression drops.
I look at Ashlyn and then the nurse smiles. “Your mouth,” she says.
“What?”
“I think she’s saying the swab goes in your mouth,” Ashlyn says.
“Ding, ding,” the nurse says as she walks over. “Two points for the new girlfriend. And speaking of that, I may be a Navarro fan–”
“You mentioned that,” I say.
“But the two of you know how to entertain,” she says. “Which I appreciate. Gives me something to do on my lunch breaks.”
“Really?” I ask as she starts the procedure.
“No. I don’t get breaks. Are you kidding? Alright. All done. We’ll give you a call,” she says, yanking off her rubber gloves with a snap.
“A call?” I ask.
“A phone call. With your results,” she states.
“I think we were hoping,” Ashlyn starts.
“It takes anywhere from five to seven days,” she says.
“A week?” I ask. “I have to wait a week to find out if I’m a dad?”
The nurse just stares at me. “Listen, honey. I know the process that got you here only took about five minutes, but medical tests take time unless you have it expedited.”
“I’d like to have it expedited,” I say.
“It’s expensive, and usually you have to have priority,” she says.
“I have money,” I say. After a long moment, the nurse lets out a sigh.
“I’ll see what I can do,” she says before walking out, but not before muttering something about Jett Navarro.
I sigh and run my hand through my hair.
“I gotta tell ya, this is not how I imagined spending my night,” I say. “I just want to go home, toss back a shot of whiskey and sleep till tomorrow night.” I laugh a little, but when I look over at Ashlyn, she’s not laughing. She’s not even smiling. She looks worried.
After what feels like forever, I turn to Ashlyn to break the silence. “Are you okay?” I ask.
“Who would do that?” her voice cracks. “Who would have a baby, a baby they carried for nine months, birthed, held in their own arms night after night, and just drop them off on someone’s doorstep?”
“It happens more than you’d think,” I say softly.
“That makes it worse,” she sniffs. “I’ll never understand it. Women like that…they don’t understand what a gift it is to be a mother. To be able to get pregnant. It’s not fair.”
I move to sit next to her in one of the side chairs. “A lot of things aren’t fair,” I say because I am unsure what else I can say. “But he’s here now. Safe. Warm. Fed.”
“And where’s his mother?” she asks.
“Hard to say,” the nurse answers the question for me as she walks back in. “But I can tell you who the father is.”
Holy shit…