Page 48 of Lies and Lullabies
“Being such a drama queen this weekend.”
Adam gave a low chuckle. “It’s not your fault. We’ll handle it, okay? All of it. We always do.”
* * *
Unfortunately,the next few days were sobering.
I went to Adam’s second round of doctor’s appointments. I heard many words of encouragement. “Chance of five-year survival above ninety percent,” and “probably caught it early enough,” and “no long-term health consequences.”
But the second team of doctors suggested a different treatment protocol, which left us googling “testicular cancer surgery” six ways till Sunday, and drowning in medical jargon.
With Vivi in her last week of preschool for the year, I called in sick to work and went with my brother to yet another consultation. Sitting there in the sterile waiting room while he had more scans done, I felt numb with fear.
It just wasn’t fair. I didn’t want Adam to have to go through this. He was already the oldest twenty-nine-year-old I knew. He supported a family of three, and cared for a child he had not created. And all without complaint.
Meanwhile, Jonas had tried to call me twice. The first time, I’d been watching Vivi in the bathtub, so I couldn’t take the call. The voicemail he’d left was really sweet, though. “I’m thinking of you two, and I’d love to hear your voices,” he’d said. “Call me.”
But Vivi had a bedtime meltdown, and after she’d gone to sleep, I couldn’t quite find the nerve to call him solo. Obviously, it was Vivi he wanted to speak to.
He’d called again today, when Adam and I were waiting for the results of one of his tests. Since Adam wanted to keep his illness private, I didn’t take the call.
An hour later, he’d followed up with a text.Can you tell me when is a good time to talk? J.S.
For years I’d dreamed of getting that text. Sometimes I’d even fantasized about him turning up on my doorstep with my love letter in his hand. “There was a mistake, and I didn’t get this until now,” he’d always said in those dreams. “I’m sorry, my love. But I’m here now.”
Right. My brother’s sci-fi TV shows had more realistic plots.
Later in the evening, Adam came home from work looking so grim I assumed he’d gotten some terrible news. “What is it?” I asked, panicked. “A test?”
He shook his head. “I’m fine, Kiki.”
But he did not look fine. I’d made one of his favorite foods for dinner, and he wasn’t eating it.
“Adam,” I whispered when Vivi darted into my bedroom in search of a doll. “If you’re refusing my white lasagna with spinach, I’m going to call the paramedics.”
He pushed his plate away. “I got a pile of legal documents from Jonas Smith’s lawyer today.”
My water glass froze on the way to my mouth. “Really? What do they say?”
“They weren’t what I’d hoped.” He folded his hands on the table. “Although it could just be posturing. Some lawyers are just dicks by default. If they want you to take two steps, they’ll first ask for twenty.”
“Adam! Just tell me what they said.”
“Most of it is standard.” He chewed his lip. “They’re requesting a paternity test, after which, they’ll file a complaint to establish paternity.”
I made a noise of dismay, but Adam held up a hand. “No lawyer would negotiate child support without those things, Kira. That’s just standard procedure. But I don’t like their cover letter. It hints that they’re going to push for joint legal custody.”
“Legal custody,” I whispered. “That means he could make decisions for her?”
Adam nodded. “But, like I said, the guy might be posturing. I expected him to ask for what’s called ‘reasonable visitation.’” He made quote marks with his fingers.
I felt as though the floor were dropping out from under me. “He said he’d never try to take her away from me. That was three days ago.”
“Mama?” I whipped my head around to see Vivi standing in the doorway. “Where is Purple Kitty?”
I took a deep breath and steadied myself. Then I got up to help Vivi find a tattered stuffed cat.
* * *
