22. Evan
22
EVAN
T he house felt cold and sad. I stood by the door for a long time looking at all the changes I’d made—for the twins. The bookshelves with toys and games on them, the gaming console, the new furniture, it all made me feel depressed. These things were meant to welcome them into my home like family. I wanted that; it was why I’d gone to all the trouble. Now I wasn’t sure what to think.
It was painful to stand here and be reminded of how stupid I’d been. I couldn’t stay here and look at this stuff until I knew without a doubt the truth under all of this. I headed to my bedroom and threw some things into a bag—a few suits, a couple changes of boxers and socks, my toiletries, and my phone charger, though I’d turned that off already. Just a few messages from Amber was enough. I didn’t need to wince in pain every time I saw her name pop up.
My office would be as good a place as any to crash for the night. I could figure it out when I woke up. I wasn’t tired, but the large bottle of whiskey I grabbed from my liquor stash in the kitchen would help with that. I planned to be up and out of the office before anyone else woke up, and after that I didn’t know. I needed to decide how to handle this. Hiding from everyone wasn’t a viable solution. I still had a job.
If my brother knew what was good for him, he’d give me space for a while at least. A few days or weeks. He was as much or more to blame for this than Amber. He had known from the beginning and never said a word. He acted like nothing in the world was going on for years, and he was lying to me the whole time. It hurt more than I cared to admit, so I shoved it down with the rest of the feelings I was experiencing.
Pausing at the front door, I scanned the room one more time. If there were only a way to make sense of all this, without having to trust someone’s word. They could still be lying to me about the whole thing, and I’d never know. A DNA test would prove paternity, but that meant I had to talk to Amber to get a sample from one of the twins…Unless…
My mind kicked into gear. I set my bag by the front door and walked to the guest bathroom. When Amber and the twins stayed over, I’d let them use toothbrushes I had saved away for if guests stayed and didn’t bring one. They were still lying next to the sink in the guest bathroom. I’d left them there in hopes that more sleepovers would happen and the kids would put them to use again. It was perfect. Hopefully, I’d be able to give them to a doctor at a clinic and have them pull DNA from it.
I grabbed them, carefully putting them into plastic baggies before tucking them into my bag. Then I locked up and left. My heart already felt a bit more at ease with having a plan. I climbed into my car and threw the bag in back then pulled into traffic. The car was too quiet, so I turned on the radio, but love songs were playing. It only made what I was feeling worse, so I shut it off as quickly as I had turned it on.
I parked outside the building and snuck up to my office. The place was dark except for emergency lighting, but I knew the way like the back of my hand. I’d worked here for five years and spent plenty of sleepless nights on the sofa across the room from my desk. Tonight was no different. I filled my whiskey tumbler for the first drink, and the next several I swigged right from the bottle. I passed out before 9 p.m.
The first rays of sunlight slipped through the blinds, casting a faint glow on the papers scattered across my desk. I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my eyes, feeling the weight of what I had to do this morning press against me. I had to move quickly—soon, people would start filing in, and I needed to be gone before they noticed I was here, or when Jacob called they’d cough up the information.
The office was still quiet, the city just beginning to awaken outside. I grabbed my suit coat and headed for the door, the cold air hitting me as soon as I stepped outside. My car was parked under a layer of frost, and it took forever to warm up. I slid into the driver’s seat, shivering as I turned the key. It took the heater forever to produce warm air but eventually warmth blew from the vents.
I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, watching my breath fog up the windshield. I should’ve grabbed that spare coat from home. My jacket didn’t do much against the bite of the November deep freeze Buffalo was enduring. Traffic was light as I drove across town to the clinic and waited for them to open.
I knew there were lots of places to help me, but I wanted this to be 100 percent anonymous. I didn’t want it getting back to anyone that I was having my DNA tested for paternity. After several rattling dreams last night, I had convinced myself that it wasn’t true. That somehow they were still lying to me. I needed this test to make my brain accept the truth I didn’t know how to accept.
The walk-in clinic worked on a cash basis, so I brought plenty of it. The place was a little run-down, stained carpets, worn-out chairs. I waited in the lobby for ten minutes before they opened the reception area. A pretty young blonde sat behind the open window with a bright smile.
“Good morning, can I help you?” Her cheery face felt foreign to me. With what I was feeling, a smile felt out of place.
“I, uh…I need some tests run.” My hand reached for my pocket where I stuffed the baggie with the kids’ toothbrushes. “Do you run paternity tests?”
The woman nodded and looked down at her computer screen as her fingers started to move. “Yep, we sure do. Could I get a name?” Her fingers flew across her keyboard as her eyes flicked to meet my gaze and back to the computer.
“John Smith, thank you.” Giving a false name was my only option right now, though I had no choice but to give them my real phone number. I stood and answered a dozen more questions before she hit enter and looked back up at me.
“It’s a fifty-dollar charge to be seen. You can pay that now. Then the rest will be due when you leave, depending on what the doctor does.” She tapped her manicured fingers on the desk in front of her and waited.
I pulled out my wallet and took out a fifty, dropping it on the desk next to her hand. “Thanks…How long?”
“You can go on back. Doc is waiting for you since you’re the first one here.” She gestured at the door to my right. “Go through there and step on the scale. Cindy will be right with you.”
“Thanks.” I pulled my slacks up higher by the belt and turned toward the door. There were warning signs hung there, taped with scotch tape, depicting sick people covering their mouths or sneezing out germs. I opened the door and walked through to find a plump woman with a round face holding a clip board standing next to the scale.
“Mr. Smith,” she said, nodding. “Step up here and we’ll get your weight, then we’ll get you in a room to see Dr. Sharp.”
I allowed her to herd me through the process of taking vitals and history. She narrowed her eyes at me when I told her I was here for a paternity test so it was all rigamarole, but she put me in a room and I sat on the exam table waiting.
A few minutes later, a stout man with a burly mustache and wild eyebrows strolled in. He carried the same clipboard but nicer energy.
“Mr. Smith…I’m assuming it’s an alias?” The way his head dipped as he looked at me over his glasses made him seem approachable.
“Yes, my name is Evan, but I don’t want that on any records.” I fidgeted with my collar and loosened my too-tight tie. It was choking me for some reason. “I just need a paternity test run…There’s this whole drama and…” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the baggie of toothbrushes. He eyed them and then sat on the stool next to the exam table.
“I see. And these are?” he asked, accepting the toothbrushes as I handed them to him.
“These are toothbrushes used by the twins; I need to know if I’m the dad.” My heart hammered in my chest. There was no turning back after this. If Amber got furious with me for having her children’s—potentially my children’s—DNA tested, that would be it, no chance at redemption. But how could I live with myself not having actual evidence of the truth? I’d been stupid to believe I had a real relationship with my brother, one where I could trust him.
“That won’t be a problem,” he said, laying the baggie on the counter. “We’ll have a nurse come draw some blood and you’ll be set.”
“How long will it take? I’m sort of lying low. I have to face some things, but I need to make sure I’m prepared for that…” I didn’t want to even think about talking to Amber until I knew what the truth really was.
“Well, we can put a rush on it. Typically, between forty-eight to seventy-two hours.” He stood and tucked the clipboard under his arm and reached his hand out to shake mine. “They have your number on file?”
“Uh, yes,” I said, shaking his hand. “And I appreciate this being very confidential.”
“Not a problem, Mr. Smith,” he said with a wink. “That nurse will be right in.”
I sat anxiously waiting for the future to unravel, trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I could very well be the father of amazing seven-year-old twins. But was I ready to be a father? And how would I handle the fact that Amber had kept it from me?
I didn’t know if my love for her would cover this huge mistake. It might be something we could never come back from.