DNA Debacle

TYLER

Having breakfast with Ella was a joy this morning, and I’m thankful for the high chair Zach brought over. It’s a godsend when you need both hands for things like cutting food or holding a hot cup of coffee, all while ensuring the baby is safe. But breakfast feels like a long time ago now, and I’m alone in the car, driving toward town where Tilly is waiting for me.

Jerry’s friend and colleague will be there too, just to verify that I interacted with the child while we wait for the DNA results. She’s a good lawyer, but I can sense she doesn’t believe that Tilly isn’t my child. She proposed we have this week’s visitation at the contact center, which serves two purposes.

Firstly, I have to legally sign in and out of the building, which has CCTV recording the entire encounter between Tilly and me. Secondly, Sophie can watch from another room behind one-way glass, but she can’t be in the room with Tilly and me. This way, we have evidence that I stepped up for the child, even though I’m scared for my safety. I know Sophie didn’t intend to hurt me, but apparently, it’s advantageous to use her past actions against her.

I don’t get why we need this evidence when Tilly isn’t mine. I pull into the parking lot ten minutes early and see Sophie struggling with the car seat, but I can’t help her. My appointment is scheduled ten minutes after hers to avoid any interaction. This is all because the lawyer wants to claim concern for my safety, given Sophie’s past actions with a scalpel.

I feel uncomfortable using anything against Sophie. I stay in the car until two minutes before my appointment, then I get out and walk toward the building. Hayley Stan, the lawyer, is waiting for me outside.

“Tyler,” she greets me.

“Hayley,” I respond, signing in exactly one minute before my appointment.

We’re led to a large room filled with toys, padded flooring, sensory lights, and a book corner. A woman is sitting at a table at the back of the room with Tilly. It breaks my heart to see this innocent child here with a stranger because of her mother and me. But the DNA results should be back any day now, so this won’t last long.

I follow the advice I’ve been given and head straight for Tilly. I ask for her before walking over to a baby’s play mat. I sit down with her between my legs, so she’s sitting upright in front of an array of toys that I pick from a toy basket. I hate this.

“How are you today, Tilly? Have you been a good girl?” I ask, feeling self-conscious.

There’s not only the lawyer at the table, but also another woman who hasn’t introduced herself. I have no idea what her role is. Is she another lawyer, a child services worker, or just someone who helps parents co-parent?

“What do we have here? Here’s a tambourine. You liked Ava’s one the other day, didn’t you?” I shake the tambourine and Tilly laughs, seeming content with me sitting here on the mat.

Our session lasts for forty-five minutes, and everything is going well until she starts fussing after straining for a poop. I don’t want to touch her like that, especially because she isn’t my child. But I have no choice. I’m being watched by the women behind us, and leaving a baby in a dirty diaper would be a big red flag.

“Shall we change that? We don’t want to sit in it, do we?” I stand up and take her to the conveniently placed changing table right under a camera. I change her as quickly and efficiently as I can, being extra careful not to hurt her. She lies perfectly still, sucking on her pacifier that’s attached to her T-shirt.

“Well, that was a big one, huh, Tilly? Would you like to play some more, or maybe we should head over to that super comfy-looking bean bag and read a story or two?” I try not to look at the two women watching me as I walk across the room and carefully sit down. I reach out and pick up the first book I touch.

The Very Hungry Caterpillar. It was one of my favorite books as a child. I used to make my mom or Carla and Jerry read it to me over and over again until I knew the words by heart. I read it to Tilly without really looking at the pages, only flipping them when I need to show her the pictures.

During the third book, she falls asleep in my arms after babbling at the pictures of a book about ducks. I carefully lift her up and place her over my shoulder, making sure her little face is uncovered before I lean back and pat her back soothingly.

I shouldn’t be sitting here cuddling this child. I shouldn’t be bonding with her because she isn’t staying. But she feels warm and right, laying over my shoulder. Just like Ella does…as if she was born to be cuddled by me. I’m walking a dangerous line, falling in love with a child that isn’t mine.

But apparently, I’m a glutton for punishment because I enjoy the feel of her against my chest. I sit for the remaining eleven minutes, cuddling her to my body and absentmindedly patting her back.

“I have the DNA results,” Hayley announces, pulling up a chair to sit in front of me. I have less than a minute left of this charade, but I don’t feel the need to move. You should move, give her back to the lady and get ready to leave.

“That’s great. Now you know she isn’t mine,” I say, sighing because I don’t feel even the slightest impulse to move. I hate the thought of disturbing the child laying on my shoulder.

“Mr. Mason, the DNA has come back that Tilly is ninety-nine point nine percent a match to your DNA.”

“What?” I fight the urge to bolt upright, not wanting to disturb the sleeping child who is apparently mine. “Get them to run it again.”

“They did, twice. The outcome didn’t change, Tyler. You are Tilly’s father.”

My mouth stays wide open as I stare at the woman in front of me. Anger courses through me at the thought of her doing this to try and ruin my life.

I know it’s irrational to think that way. She’s a lawyer, and I’m paying her to help me…but damn, if this doesn’t feel wrong.

“I haven’t had sex with her for years. Three years in May. There’s no way Tilly is genetically mine,” I whisper, trying to remain calm, but I’m panicking. Everything is closing in around me. The floor feels like it’s pulsating beneath me.

“You said you went through fertility treatments. Maybe she still had frozen specimens of your semen. Once you’ve given someone permission to use them, they can do so without needing you to sign again.”

What?

“It wasn’t her that we went through fertility treatments with, it was our wife. Our dead wife.” Her eyes widen at the way I say dead.

Dead because she’s gone. There’s no other way to say it, yet it still sounds so final as the words slip from my mouth. And it still hurts a little inside to think of Rose because I know I’ll never see her again. But now I have Violet and Callum and little Ella, and that weirdly counteracts the hurt.

“Oh, I just assumed it was with her. I’m sorry, I should have asked for a clearer indication of whom you went through fertility treatments with.”

Something has definitely gone wrong. How did she get the results to turn out this way?

“Sophie is willing to have a mediation meeting. She’s available today. This afternoon, in fact. I think it would be wise to take her up on the offer. By the state law based on genetic DNA here in this state, you are automatically entitled to fifty-fifty custody by way of rights and responsibilities.”

She isn’t mine.

“I…I can’t think about that right now, Hayley. I need the DNA investigated.”

“Mr. Mason, Tyler. I really do suggest you come back to the meeting at three. It’s in the best interest of all three of you to sort out an amicable way through co-parenting. For the well-being of Tilly, it is advisable to try and sort out your problems in mediation. I understand you are shocked, but DNA is very hard to be fooled. Besides, it was completed in an independent lab, not the hospital. So no one could have tampered with the results as they came straight to myself and Sophie’s lawyer this morning.”

“This morning? You knew when I got here and kept that from me? What the fuck?”

“I didn’t want the results to influence your visit,” she said, her eyes softening. “The child services officer was pleased with how you and Tilly interacted. She’s content to let you both co-parent with the help of mediation.” She paused, her gaze steady on mine.

“Now, I suggest you take a break. Have some lunch. Talk to your partners and come back ready to discuss custody arrangements. It’s what’s best for Tilly,” she finished, extending her arms toward Tilly.

I glanced between them, my heart pounding in my chest. Carefully, I lifted Tilly from my shoulder, passing her over gently so as not to wake her. I cradled her head, ensuring it didn’t fall.

Then, I found myself standing, my body moving on its own accord. I walked toward the door, my mind a whirl of thoughts. I reached the reception, only remembering to sign out as I stood before the exit.

I turned back, hastily signing the paper before rushing out into the open air. I took a deep breath, then another, and another. My breathing became erratic, my lungs struggling to take in enough air.

I was hyperventilating.

The sounds around me seemed to amplify. The tires on the road, distant car horns, people chatting as they entered the building behind me. The birds chirping in the tree to my left.

The loud bang of the dustbin to my right as someone slammed it shut. The rush of blood in my ears.

It was all too much. My head felt like it was about to burst. I rushed to my car, nearly tripping over my own feet. I fumbled with my keys, dropping them twice before I finally managed to sit.

I stared blankly at the windscreen.

Tilly is mine?!

I…How?

How is this even possible?

It can’t be.

My life was falling apart right in front of me, in the car I’d owned since my first real paycheck. I was going to lose Zach, Callum, Violet, and Ella.

My sister.

Everything I knew was about to change because I’d somehow fathered a child with someone I’d never slept with.

That’s when the tears started to fall. I reached for my phone, frustration mounting as it didn’t work as quickly as I needed it to.

It took me three attempts to find Carla’s number in my contacts. The phone rang twice before she picked up.

Always two rings.

Always reliable.

She had always been my rock.

“Hey, sweetheart,” she greeted, her voice brimming with affection. I fought back the lump that formed in my throat, overwhelmed by the love this woman held for me, despite not being her flesh and blood.

“Mom? I need you.”