He puts his hands on my hips and guides me up and down. “You can ride me anytime.” And I do until we both come.
It’s been five days since the paternity test and the pediatrician’s office just phoned to let me know I can come by to pick up the results—but it’ll have to wait. I have more important business to tend. Laurelyn has her first prenatal visit in two hours and I won’t allow a special moment like this to be ruined.
Her morning sickness has reared its ugly head every day this week, so it’s taking longer for her to get up and get going. Her face is so pale and thin—I’m pretty sure she’s already lost weight. That can’t be good for her or the baby. “Mrs. Porcelli mixed a home remedy for you.” She glances at the glass and looks as though she might vomit any minute. “She seemed sure it would help.”
“So she knows?”
“She must since she made this for you, but I didn’t tell her.” She slides up in the bed slowly with her eyes closed. “It wouldn’t be hard for her to figure out since you’ve been sick every morning this week.”
She takes the glass and looks at it. “What’s in it?”
“I have no idea. It just looks like water to me.”
She brings it to her nose for a sniff. “I smell something familiar but I can’t put my finger on it.” She brings the glass to her mouth and takes a tiny sip. “It’s not terrible. There’s a little tanginess with something sweet—maybe a touch of honey.” She takes another sip. “I don’t care if it’s bad if it helps this feeling go away. I hate being nauseated.”
“What about some toast?” I want her to eat because she doesn’t need to lose another ounce. I worry she and the baby aren’t getting what they need.
“Maybe a little later.” Not what I want to hear.
“Promise me you’ll try.”
“I will.” She puts her hand on my arm. “Don’t worry, McLachlan. I’ll feel better in a few hours and I’ll eat something then. I’m not going to let the baby starve.”
I hate not being able to help her. “I can’t control this situation and it makes me feel helpless. I take care of you—it’s what I do—but I’m not able to with this.”
“This will pass in a few weeks and I’ll eat you out of house and home. I’ll probably gain way too much weight and get lots of stretch marks. You’ll wish I had morning, noon, and night sickness.”
“Never. I want you and this baby to have the nourishment you need.”
Laurelyn sips on her drink until she has about half of it down—and it stays. It’s mainly water, I think, but it makes me feel better to see her at least get a little hydration.
It’s a slow process but she gets out of bed to shower and dress for her appointment. We somehow manage to get out the door at a decent time. Despite her present condition, she looks beautiful and I can’t stop looking over at her as I drive.
“What is it?”
“You’re beautiful and I love looking at you.”
“Well, find a time to look when you’re not driving.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
We do the necessary paperwork as we sit in the waiting room, but we don’t get called to an exam room for an hour and a half. “Waiting this long is fucking ridiculous.”
She turns and gives me the shut the hell up face. I know it well. “I’m seeing an obstetrician. She has to leave the office to go deliver babies at the hospital. That’s nonnegotiable so expect delays. We’ll get our turn at making people wait when she comes to deliver this one.”
L pees in a cup, gets weighed, and has her blood taken. All of that happens before she’s even put in the exam room. “What else are they gonna do to you?”
She starts taking off her clothes to change into a patient gown. “I’m sure I’m getting a Pap smear since it’s my first visit. She’ll probably feel around to make sure everything is in good working order and I’m hoping for an ultrasound. I really want to see the baby.”
She sits on the exam table and we wait some more—long enough for the doc to deliver at least a dozen babies. I’m becoming very irritable and L knows it. “Be patient, McLachlan.”
“You shouldn’t have to sit and wait like this. You haven’t had anything to eat and it’s well past lunch now.”
She opens her mouth to reply—or argue—but doesn’t when the doctor finally comes into the exam room. “Hello, Mrs. McLachlan. I’m Dr. Sommersby. I’m really sorry you’ve had to wait so long. I don’t usually run so behind but I had two deliveries this morning and one was twins so it took longer.”
“It’s not a problem.” Yes, it is. I won’t have L sitting for hours like this every time she has an appointment.
They talk a few minutes about things I know nothing about as she feels L’s breasts. That’s awkward, having another woman touch my wife like that, but I guess it would be worse if it were a man. Dr. Sommersby asks L to slide down on the table and her feet are placed in metal footrests. I hear a lot of clanking and keep my place in the chair by her head. I don’t even want to know what’s going on under that drape. “Everything looks good. Now let’s take a look with the ultrasound so we can document how far along you are.”
This makes L very happy. And me. I want to see the baby and know everything is all right as well.
The doctor squeezes gel on L’s belly and spreads it around. She takes notice of her navel piercing. “That’s very pretty but I recommend you change it out to something flexible when you get a little further along. Sometimes these stiff rings leave ugly scars.”
“I expected you to tell me I had to take it out.”
“I’m pretty lax on most things, but I do want it out on delivery day in case of emergency. It’s terrible trying to get those things out when everyone is scrambling around in a mad rush.” An emergency—I hadn’t considered anything like that happening. I guess no one goes in to have a baby and thinks something bad will happen to them.
I take Laurelyn’s hand in mine as Dr. Sommersby adjusts her glasses and straightens the monitor screen of the ultrasound for a better view. She moves the probe one way and then another. I can’t guess what she’s seeing but for me, I see nothing but white noise on a black screen. “I was hoping we could see something with an abdominal scan but you’re too early. We’ll need to do a transvaginal.” She returns the probe in her hand to the machine and exchanges it for one that looks like a huge dildo. What the fuck is she gonna do with that?
My thought isn’t quite completed when she rolls a condom over it and I find out. “Relax your legs and let them fall apart, Laurelyn.” Her hand and the dildo disappear under L’s gown. “This doesn’t hurt but it does feel full, especially if your bladder isn’t empty.”
L looks at me with large eyes and takes a deep breath before releasing it. She makes a face that tells me she’s uncomfortable and squeezes my hand. “Whew! That’s a lot of pressure.”
“Hang in there, Laurelyn. It’ll get better once I stop moving the transducer … which should be right about … now.”
Laurelyn sighs a breath of relief. Her grip on my hand relaxes but it trembles as she searches the screen, waiting for the doctor to say something. Anything.
“This is just a two-dimensional ultrasound so the picture isn’t the best. I basically only want to document the gestation. We’ll do a three-dimensional when you’re further along and have something to see that you’d recognize.” She finally points to the screen. “Looks like you’re six weeks, give or take a couple of days. This big dark area is your uterus and that white circle is the sac. And if you’ll look right here …” She adjusts for a better look and points to a white area. “There’s your baby.”
Laurelyn squeezes my hand. “It’s amazing. We’re looking at our baby for the first time. Do you see it, Jack Henry?”
It’s truly an incredible sight to behold, this tiny little person inside my wife. Part me, part her, but whether boy or girl, I hope
to see more Laurelyn than me in him or her. “I do. It’s incredible.” I’ll be forever changed by it.
We leave the office and Laurelyn can’t stop looking at the ultrasound picture the doctor printed for us. “I haven’t been able to get the bleeding episode with Addison off my mind since I found out I was pregnant, so it’s a relief to know everything looks okay at this point.”
“Everything is going to be perfect. No worries, okay?”
“I’m excited. I decided I don’t want to wait about telling everyone since we got a good report.”
I debate bringing up the test results. I don’t want to taint our good news but I’m certain Laurelyn wants this over as much as I do. “Dr. Gates’s office called this morning to tell me the paternity test results are in. Do you want to go by and pick them up while we’re in town or wait?”
She sighs. “I don’t want to put it off. It’s better to get it done so we can either stop worrying and move forward or begin the process of accepting that boy as yours.”
Laurelyn waits in the car while I go in to retrieve the report. The woman at reception smiles and wishes me a good evening as she places a sealed envelope in my hand. My name is typed across the front in all caps but all I can think is how it should read, JACK McLACHLAN’S FATE.
Laurelyn and I didn’t discuss how we’d do this, but I don’t open the results. I think it’s something she and I should do together in the privacy of our home—mainly because I don’t know what either of our reactions will be—but I’m giving her all the power. It’s her choice to decide when and how.
I get into the car and hold the envelope out for her. “Tell me how you want to do this.”
She takes a breath and her cheeks puff out as she exhales. “I think we should do it at home.”
“Agreed.” I toss the envelope on the dashboard and steer her Cayenne toward Avalon. The drive has never seemed longer.
I pull into the garage and grab the envelope. “I think we should be alone when we look at this. Do you mind if I give Mrs. Porcelli the rest of the day off?”
“I think that’s best.”
I go in ahead of Laurelyn and relieve Mrs. Porcelli of her duties for the rest of the day. L waits until she’s gone to come into the house and I see why when she comes inside. She’s already crying. “I’m sorry.” She cups her mouth with her hand. “I told myself I wasn’t going to be like this but I can’t help it.”
“It’s okay, L. Your hormones are all over the place so you can’t help this crazy emotional roller coaster you’re riding.” I hold my hand out to her and after she takes it, I lead her to the couch. “Is here okay?” She nods and tears roll down her cheeks as I break the envelope’s seal.
She stops me, placing her hand on mine. “No matter the results, I love you. If he’s yours, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stand by you and be the wife you need me to be.”
I’m instantly relieved, and for the first time since my life spun out of control, I feel like my world won’t end by what could potentially be on this piece of paper. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me knowing you’ll be here with me either way.”
“I wanted you to know before so you could be assured that negative results aren’t why I stayed.”
I take the paper out and it isn’t what I expected. I thought it would be a letter stating I was or was not the father of Ashton Rosenthal, but I’m wrong. I panic, trying to decipher its meaning. “It’s the actual lab result.” I search through lots of words and numbers I don’t understand about alleles. One set is for: child. The other for: alleged father. And then I see what I believe to be the results.
Based on the DNA analysis, the alleged father, Jack McLachlan, is excluded as the biological father of the child, Ashton Rosenthal, because they do not share sufficient genetic markers. Combined Direct Index: 0. Probability 0%.
I’m not his father.
“Gah!” I put my hands into my hair and fall back against the couch. “Fuck.” Is it wrong for me to be this relieved when the result leaves a little boy fatherless? I don’t have time to sort that out in my head because I’m pulling L into my arms. “Zero percent probability. Jenna Rosenthal’s son is not mine.”
Thank fuck. I’ve managed to put another shitstorm behind me.
I’m awakened when I hear Jack Henry on the phone, yelling, and I get up to see what’s going on. “Your son isn’t mine. There’s nothing else for us to discuss.” I don’t have to hear another word to know who’s on the other end.
He’s quiet for a moment but then I’m startled when he throws his phone across the room hitting the wall only a few feet from me. “Mother-fucking-bitch!” He’s so angry, he’s shaking. It’s frightening to see him like this.
He sees me standing close to where he just busted his phone into pieces and his eyes grow large. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you standing there.”
“What was that about?”
He sinks into the couch. “That, my dear wife, was the sound of me being threatened and blackmailed by Jenna Rosenthal.”
“With what?”
“She began by accusing me of having someone change the paternity test results. I told her we could take a hundred paternity tests and they would all exclude me as her son’s father. Once she realized she wasn’t going to hoodoo me into claiming her kid, she threatened to expose my past. She said you’d leave me for sure, out of embarrassment, if everyone knew what I used to do.”
“What does she want?”
“What she wanted from the beginning—money.”
Of course she does. Money-hungry bitch. “What kind of numbers are we talking?”
“She asked how much money I was willing to part with to keep you.”
She’s going to play hardball. “She probably thinks I don’t know about your past.”
“Or if she suspects you were a part of it, she thinks I’ll pay to keep you from being humiliated as one of my companions.”
I don’t really give a rat’s ass what people think. “I’m not going anywhere, so I don’t want you to pay her one damn cent unless you think you can’t live with people knowing.”
“I really don’t give a damn but I don’t want that for you. It would kill me to see your picture in the gossip column with some stupid heading about me once being some kind of bizarre sexual deviant.” He’s still shaking.
“It might not stick. You’re no longer one of Australia’s most eligible bachelors. Your days of making the papers may have ended when you put a wedding ring on your finger.”
“That’s not really how it works. What I did was illicit. People love a scandalous story—especially when it’s real. It’s way more interesting than the happily ever after.” He fists his hair and groans. “Fuck, Margaret McLachlan will kill me if she finds out.”
“Then we should tell her about the baby as soon as possible. She won’t want her grandchild to be fatherless.”
“I don’t know about that. She’s going to be mad as hell.”
Margaret isn’t dumb. She’s going to put the pieces together. Everyone will. “I spent three months with you and left. She’s going to figure out I was one of them. I’m not really crazy about that idea. I don’t want to disappoint her.”
“My mum loves you, L. She won’t think less of you.” He gets up from the couch and walks over to gather the pieces of his phone. He takes his SIM card out and inspects it. “I need your phone. I have an important call to make.”
I retrieve my phone from the bedroom and give it to Jack Henry and he makes the card exchange. He’s standing with his back to me when he dials a number and waits for an answer. “Jim, I have another job for you. I need you to look into someone—a woman named Jenna Rosenthal.”
Jenna Rosenthal. Another bitch I’d like to kick in the ass while wearing my boots. And I will if the opportunity arises, with a big-ass smile on my face.
We de
cided we wanted to tell Margaret and Henry about the baby in person, but because of work Jack Henry needed to do at Avalon this week, we had to wait until the weekend to make the trip to Sydney. I’m sure my mother-in-law suspects why we’re coming again so soon. I could hear the exhilaration in her voice over the phone. We’d only hung up for a few moments when she called back to tell me she’s baking a chocolate cake for me—one I can take home when we leave—and even gave me permission to not share with Jack Henry.
We’ve taken my in-laws out to dinner instead of cooking at their place. The restaurant is formal, and overpriced, but it’s what the McLachlans are accustomed to. There’s even a woman walking around serenading diners. She stops to sing for a couple and belts out “At Last.” I’m watching the scene happen from a distance but it’s quite clear at the end of the song that the man is proposing to his dinner companion when he drops to one knee. The diners around them begin clapping and it spreads throughout the entire restaurant, most patrons likely believing they’re applauding the songstress.
Everyone at our table has ordered wine, except me. Henry pays that little tidbit absolutely no attention but Margaret takes notice. I know because she’s suddenly giddy and it’s not from the wine.
“Jack, Randall tells me you brought his granddaughter on for an internship.”
Uh-oh. “I did, but she found another one. She wanted to be closer to her college friends. She was more concerned with partying than learning to manage a vineyard.” Nice one, McLachlan. The only good thing I can say about Bianca is that she had the good sense to go away quietly so Jack Henry and Mr. Brees didn’t experience a hiccup in their business relationship.
Jack Henry and his dad speak the vineyard language and I’m mostly lost. I think Margaret understands a lot but chooses to not join in. I think she still holds a little resentment for that life, although it made her and Henry a nice living. “Do you understand anything they’re saying?”