Chapter 60
Today is Teddy’s sixth birthday party.
There exists no greater joy than a child having a birthday party—that has been the primary lesson I have learned today.
From the moment he woke up this morning, Teddy hasn’t stopped smiling.
The only time his smile wavered for even a second was when Jeremy told him that his mother wouldn’t be coming to the party.
Frankly, I think it’s a little harsh.
Yes, Naomi has been horrible to us. But she is Teddy’s mother. She should be at his birthday party. However, if I even hinted to Jeremy that she should be here, he would lecture me for an hour about how horrible she is, how she can’t be trusted, and how she would ruin the day.
As for me, I’m trying to enjoy myself as much as possible and trying not to think about the fact that Dominic’s sixth birthday party would have been a week ago.
I haven’t gotten the results back yet from the DNA test, but I already know what they’re going to be.
Teddy isn’t my real son—Dominic is still out there somewhere.
And wherever he is, I hope somebody is throwing him a party as big as this one, with clowns and bouncy houses and ponies and yes…
this party is ridiculous. Jeremy is definitely overcompensating for the messy divorce.
I hope Dominic is happy. Even if I never got to see him again, I could breathe easier if I knew that at least he was happy.
The party is early in the morning, so there’s a lot to do.
We all have to wake up at seven o’clock sharp to start getting everything ready.
Even though he is in casual clothes for a change, Jeremy is in full work mode, directing the setup of the bouncy house and making phone calls to confirm everything.
“Ronnie, did the cake arrive yet?” Jeremy asks me while he’s got the clown on hold. (Those are words that I thought I would never say.)
“Yes, it’s in the backyard,” I tell him.
The cake is ridiculous. I’ve seen wedding cakes smaller than this. I offered to make one myself, but Jeremy laughed like I was making a joke. My cake would have been delicious though. It would’ve been chocolate with chocolate frosting, which Teddy confided in me is his favorite.
Teddy has been out in the backyard, and he comes back into the house, his cheeks pink from so much smiling. “Ronnie,” he says breathlessly, “did you get me a present for my birthday?”
I smile back at him. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know! Did you?”
“Of course I did, silly.” I ruffle his soft brown hair. “And I think you’re going to love it.”
Jeremy told me that Teddy wanted a robot car, so I went out and got it in an attempt to suck up to my boyfriend’s son. It was expensive, but I wanted him to have it. I so badly want him to like me. He still sort of thinks I’m a witch, although he’s officially decided I’m a good witch at least.
The party is supposed to go from ten thirty to one, so of course, the guests start showing up at ten, when we’re not even close to ready yet.
Jeremy warned me to expect this though, so I do my best to smile and be a good hostess, even though a lot of the mothers are shooting daggers with their eyes.
Despite that, I actually think I’m doing a pretty good job.
Soon enough, the party is going full swing, and everyone is having a great time.
Then at noon, Naomi shows up.
He specifically told her not to come until one o’clock. I heard him talking to her on the phone about it the night before, and he must’ve said five times not to come until at least one. But here she is, pretending like she thought he said noon.
“Mommy!” Teddy is tugging on her skirt. “Mommy, you have to see the pony! His name is Sparkles!”
I can see the fight brewing a mile away. Jeremy is too angry, and he can’t defuse this situation, so it’s up to me to save Teddy’s birthday party. So I race over to the three of them, a plastic smile on my face.
“Hello, Naomi,” I say in my friendliest voice. “Glad you could make it.”
“Naomi is leaving,” Jeremy says, practically shaking with anger.
“No!” Teddy wails. “I want Mommy to stay!”
I get why Jeremy is angry, but he can’t possibly think it’s appropriate to throw Teddy’s mother out of his own sixth birthday party. “Please, stay at the party, Naomi,” I tell her. “We’ve got food in the house. The kitchen is right in through the back doors.”
She doesn’t say thank you.
My phone chimes in my pocket with a new email alert. I step away from the crowd to pull it out, and my home screen shows that I have received an email with the DNA test results.
I can’t decide whether I want to look right now.
There’s no chance that Teddy is my son, and I don’t even know why I did the test in the first place, except to quiet that little voice in the back of my head.
It will be depressing to look at this email, which will be another reminder that I am a mother who no longer has a child.
But I should just get it over with. It’s better to look at it here, surrounded by happy children, than if I were alone in my apartment tonight.
I’m worried there might be tears, so I sequester myself in the master bedroom upstairs. I lock the door, just to make sure nobody disturbs me. And then I open my email to find the message from the DNA company waiting for me.
Naturally, the email contains no information.
It just has a link to the website I signed up for when I sent them the results.
I have to try to remember my log-in and password, and after I get two wrong tries, I’m starting to worry that I might be in trouble.
But then my third guess is correct. I am logged into the website.
Once I’m logged in, there’s yet another link that will lead to the DNA test results. With a shaking finger, I click on it.
For a moment, all I can see are a bunch of random strings of letters and numbers. It doesn’t make any sense to me, and all I can feel is frustration. But then I scroll to the bottom where it says “interpretation” and read the line below.
Probability of maternity: 99.9999998 percent
What?
I scan through the text written below, trying to make sense of it all. There isn’t anything in the report that says in big capital letters “YOU ARE THIS CHILD’S MOTHER.” But 99.9999998 percent… Well, that seems pretty certain to me.
The test is positive.
Teddy is my son.