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But he acts all cute and just looks over his shoulder with aWho, me?expression,as if I’m talking to someone else behind him.
“Ms. Davis, we just need a few minutes of yours,” says the guy who cursed along with Mom. The hint of nervousness on his smiling face makes me feel a bit better. “Can we please sit?”
I nod half-heartedly as the three beautiful men, who look like they were pulled right out of some movie and placed in my living room, perch back on the couch.
Mom and I take seats on the chairs across from them.
“I’m Zander. We’re sorry to barge in unannounced.” He takes charge of the conversation once again. “We really need to talk to you about Ray.”
“What about Ray?” I clear my throat. The seriousness in his tone is making me more nervous.
“It’s-s nothing t-to worry about,” the one who has been quiet so far stutters. I’m surprised by his voice. By the looks of these men, I can’t imagine them being imperfect in any way.
“What about Ray?” I ask again when they don’t reply. My throat constricts and the last words come out squeaky.
“You’re worrying her, Zander. Why are you saying it like Ray has some sort of medical condition?” Zach restlessly taps his foot on the floor.
His nervousness is contagious. “What the hell are you talking about? My boy is not sick.”
Thankfully, Zander says before I hyperventilate, “I’m sorry for worrying you. All is well with Ray. Let me start again, I am Zander.” He gives me a smile and then motions toward the other two men beside him. “And these are my brothers Zach and Zane. We—” He pauses and then clears his throat. “We work around this area and yesterday evening Zach met Ray.”
Before I can think anything more, Zane places an old photograph on the coffee table before pushing it in my direction. My eyes widen at the sight of my boy with other kids.
I pick up the photograph and bring it closer to my face. The kid in the picture is the spitting image of Ray. “I don’t understand.”
“That’s us as kids,” Zander explains and my hands tremble.
I put the photograph back on the table, unable to think clearly.
“That’s Zach.” Zander points to my son’s face in the picture. My head jerks up to Zach and notice the confusion and nervousness etched on his face.
“Are you sure you don’t know this guy?” Mom asks carefully and motions toward Zach, sitting in between his brothers. “Maybe not now, but do you think you might have met him or were friends with him a few years back?”
I can feel the hope rising in her voice. “No, Mom. You know I never had many friends, and you knew all of them. And he is not Ray’s father,” I deadpan. My chest tightens as I watch the expression on her face going back to glum. I look away, holding on to that icy wall that surrounds my heart and hides any emotion I have about Ray’s birth father.
“I know that.” Zach shoots me a death glare. “You think I wouldn’t know if I had a kid?”
“I thought that’s why you were so nervous.”
He shakes his head.
“We’re wondering if Ray is still somehow related to us. The resemblance is astounding,” Zander adds, crossing his arms and leaning back a little on the cramped couch.
My heartbeat picks up as I get up with shaky legs. Forcing the words out, I command, “Leave my house.”
Their smiling faces straighten in a flash and Zander is the first to speak. “Ms. Davis, please listen.”
My legs tremble as I plod to the door. The three men get up but make no move to leave.
I’m about to open the door when Zane walks to me. “We aren’t here to do anyth-thing that would t-take Ray away from you. Is th-that your w-worry?” he asks in his fragmented, throaty voice.
My throat closes and I look away from everyone.
“Fuck. No. We’d never do that.” Zach gets up from the couch when I turn back to everyone. “We just want to know if somehow your family has some connection to us. We are here to foster relationships, not destroy them.”
His words, even though meant to be reassuring, don’t calm my anxiety.
“Ms. Davis—” Zach starts again.
