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“I can pay you cash money right now,” Sam said. “Or put it on a credit card. I don’t give a damn what it costs.”
“All right. We’re not in the habit of drawing blood for paternity tests in the ER, but since you’re here, I can arrange it. You come with me.” He nodded to Sam. “I'll send a nurse in with paperwork for you to sign,” he said to Roy and Carrie.
Sydney plunked down in a chair, feeling utterly defeated. “I’m sorry,” she said to her parents.
“What are we going to do?” Carrie sobbed.
“Look,” Roy said, “the most important thing is that Duke is okay. Our little boy does not have leukemia. Grasp that concept, and everything else is nothing.”
“Everything else is not nothing,” Carrie said. “That man wants to take our son.”
“Lower your voice.” Roy put his fingers against his lips. “Do you want to wake him? Now just settle down. We have to accept that Sam is going to be a part of Duke’s life. There’s nothing we can do. He’s the child’s father.”
Sydney sat, numb and silent.
A nurse entered. “Here are the papers for you to sign.”
Roy scribbled his signature.
“I can’t believe you’re letting him do this,” Carrie said.
“If we don’t, he’ll just get a court order. Duke’s blood has already been drawn.”
“There’s no need,” Sydney said. “Only one man can be the father, and it’s Sam. You can trust me on that.”
“He needs to know for sure, and I don’t blame him.”
“But this will only help him,” Carrie said. “It will give him the ammunition he needs to take Duke away from us.”
“No one is taking Duke away from us. You can count on that,” Roy said. “Now simmer down.”
Sam returned, a Band-Aid in the crease of his elbow. “I’ll get the results in a few days.”
“I hope you’re happy,” Carrie said.
“As a matter of fact, I am,” Sam said. “I’m happy that Duke is not seriously ill. I’ve had enough catastrophic illness affecting people I love to last a lifetime. I really didn’t want to go through that again.”
Carrie lowered her gaze, and Sydney felt bad for her mother. Sam had shamed her a little.
“Do you mind if I ride back with Sam?” Sydney asked. “We need to talk.”
Her father understood. She could tell by the expression on his face. “Yes, that’s fine, baby girl.”
“Well, I don’t know—” Sam began.
“Please, Sam. Just give me the ride to Bakersville. It’s only an hour or so.”
Sam sighed. “All right. We can stop and grab a bite on the way. Suddenly I’m famished.”
Sydney’s tummy tightened. She wasn’t famished. Not hungry at all. Gratitude filled her for her little boy’s health, but still so much remained unresolved.
Maybe the drive home with Sam would resolve some of it.
She hoped, at least.
* * *
“So you expect me to believe that you didn’t tell your parents who the father was because you didn’t want to lay a child on me? With all my other problems?”
