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Dr. Tom’s eyes bounced between the four of us yet he didn’t budge.
“Just do it, Tom,” Glen said moved.
“There are things going on, Glen.”
Glen put his hand on his husband’s shoulder and spoke to him kindly. “Just do it.”
The doctor melted looking into his love’s sympathetic eyes.
“Fine. Follow me to my office. But, I don’t know where I can get a genetic test done.”
“I have a place. My uncle works in genetics and…”
“Quin Toro!” Dr. Tom stopped and whipped back around to look at Quin. “You’re Quin Toro. I can’t believe it. After you left, I thought it could have been you, but I didn’t think there was any way,” he said suddenly awestruck.
I’ve had a lot of people recognize me for football, but none of them looked at me the way Dr. Tom looked a Quin. It was like Dr. Tom was looking at a god.
“You know him, Doc,” Nero asked confused.
“Yes, you’re looking at a miracle,” Tom proclaimed. “I’ve been following everything I could about your life. You have given Glen and I hope that we could have a family one day,” he said with tears forming in his eyes. “The procedure is expensive so we’ve been saving up. But, you… you’re everything to us,” he said becoming breathless.
Quin listened politely and then turned to me. There was pain in his eyes. I didn’t completely get it. But, I was starting to understand some of the things he had been telling me about his life.
He had said that he felt pressure to do great things. I thought he was talking about the pressure that everyone felt to do well. But, no.
What must it be like for Quin to know that people looked at him like Dr. Tom did? What must it be like for him knowing he had to live up to that?
The pressure I felt to make it to the NFL was nothing in comparison. Quin’s life was unlike anything I could imagine. What the hell was someone like him doing with a nobody like me?
“I’m sorry,” Dr. Tom said gathering himself. “Come, let me get you what you need,” he told Quin.
Drawing a small vile of blood from Nero and me, the doctor labeled them and handed them to Quin.
“This should be more than enough,” he said composed.
“Thank you,” Quin replied.
“Yes, thank you,” I said before looking over at Nero. Nero looked away still pissed at the bearded, Latino man.
Standing in front of our trucks, Quin turned to Nero.
“We’ll let you know as soon as we find out anything.”
“Okay.”
“Can I get your number?” I asked him as nervous as I would be on a first date.
“Yeah. What’s your number I’ll text you it.”
I told Nero and a few seconds later my phone buzzed.
“I got it,” I told him.
“Cool.”
“So, I guess we’re heading back,” I told them.
“Okay,” Nero said hesitant to say goodbye.
