Page 17 of The Troublemaker
I’ll let you know when the results come in.
Dad said we could come down…
Do I want my mom to come to Chicago?Fuck yeah.I want her to hug me and give those encouraging lectures about how strong I am.The ones I pretended not to need when I was in high school and in a slump.Or when colleges weren’t giving me the looks my sophomore year.Or the time when I lost out on the girl.
Right now I feel like I need her here in order to believe in myself.
But I also want to prove to her and my dad that I can handle this.Fuck, I’m thirty-three years old.I should be able to manage my own shit.
In all honesty, I’m surprised they didn’t rush down here when I finally called them last night to let them in on what was going on before something got leaked and they were the last to know they might have another grandchild.
I’m good.He might not even be mine.
As I type the words, I grow nauseated.What will happen to this little guy if he’s not mine?Where will he go?
Jeez, I did the at-home paternity test so that we don’t have to involve too many people, but I never thought about what happens to Tanner if I’m not his dad.
Someone else will come and take him, but who?And where will he end up?
Send me a video.
Of him or your favorite?
Him.I love you, East, but I can Google you to see your smiling face.
Nice.
Video of my grandchild, please.
Another text comes in but from my dad this time.
Send your mom a video, or she’s showing up on your doorstep.
I sigh and take a video of Tanner.As if he knows I’m videotaping him, he flails his arms and kicks his legs as he smiles, and that bubble gets bigger.
I click Send to both my parents on the same thread, not wanting to field separate texts.
I place my hand on Tanner’s stomach.“You like to show off, huh?”
His hazel eyes meet mine.
“Don’t ever let anyone tell you that’s a bad thing.”
My phone dings, and I’m sure it’s my mom asking for more now that I sent her one.I should really just prepare the second bedroom for her visit.
I pick up Tanner since it’s time for him to eat, and I put him in the high chair that took me an hour to put together.Eventually I had to ask Callie to come down and help me.Talk about stripping me of my man card.
I’m never living that down.
He gets all excited like he does every time I put him in the chair.The kid loves to eat.
Me too, buddy.
I make his oatmeal and grab a baby food jar.
I sit down, and he’s flailing his arms and legs just like on the mat, making sounds as though he couldn’t be more excited.
“It’s coming.”
