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Michael looked up and his eyes met Marilyn’s. She smirked, pursing her lips as she reached for Steve’s hand. He wanted to tell her it wouldn’t make him jealous. He was glad they were finished, and seeing her husband confirmed she had downgraded. None of it mattered – the only thing he needed was for his blood to be drawn, get the results back, and know for sure.
“That’s my dad?” Jace finally spoke, glancing toward Michael and back to his mother. “The one in prison?” He didn’t talk clearly, but Michael understood him loud and clear.
“That’s him.”
“He doesn’t look like the picture you showed me.”
“He’s gained weight,” Marilyn smirked again. “Prison’s seemed to change your dear old dad.”
Michael wanted to correct her – he had gained weight and now looked healthy. He wasn’t a skinny meth addict anymore. He didn’t look like Steve. She must like them skeletal. Instead of saying any of it, he reached for a magazine and mindlessly flipped through the pages, wishing the clinic would hurry up. They were always slow, but it felt like an eternity had already passed.
“Michael Brennan and Jace Warner.”
Michael tossed the magazine aside, not shocked that Jace didn’t have his last name. She had made it clear that she wanted Steve to take over parental rights and he was surprised she had agreed to come to draw his blood. Maybe they’d both catch a break and Jace wasn’t his. He felt guilty thinking that way, and when he glanced at the boy again, a part of him wanted the child to be his. He wanted to be his father. The feeling terrified him.
Following the nurse back to an exam room, she put Jace in a separate area and he sat alone on an exam table, figuring he’d have to wait again. That’s how it worked – level one, wait for hours. Level two, get called back to a room to give you false hope that things are finally happening, only to wait more. The whole process was a waste of time. At least this appointment would answer some questions.
A nurse came in with a syringe, needle, and a tube to collect his blood. “Which arm would you prefer?” She organized her supplies and held the needle up, waiting for his answer.
“Left arm.”
She applied an alcohol wipe and tied his bicep with a tourniquet. It was the same process he had received when he was locked up. Upon release, they had to be tested for a full panel to confirm they weren’t carrying communicable diseases. He had come out clean, which was nothing short of a miracle considering his past and his carelessness when it came to messing around and sleeping with women.
“You’re a watcher,” the nurse said as she siphoned the blood from his vein, pulling the tourniquet off as the tube filled with red.
“Doesn’t bug me.” He omitted the fact that he had been around intravenous drug users and had helped Marilyn hit her veins on several occasions.
“Okay, I believe we got enough.” She closed the vial and applied a cotton ball to the crook of his arm.
“What now?”
“We send this off.”
“How long does it usually take?”
“Usually ranges from two to five days.” The nurse adjusted her glasses and threw the needle in the biohazard box. “Since we’re rural here, plan on closer to five days. We’ll give you a call as soon as it comes in. We’ll give the mother a call as well.”
“Five days,” Michael repeated, arching his eyebrow. “Why so long?”
“We have to send it off to a third party in Santa Fe. Since it’s bloodwork, it’s sent via UPS, but like I said, we’re rural. It’s just how it goes around here.”
Michael scooted off the exam table and tossed the cotton ball in the trash. “Thanks for your time.”
“Have a good day, Mr. Brennan.”
When he went out into the hallway, Steve was waiting. Michael planned to ignore him, but the other man grabbed his forearm. It wasn’t a strong grasp, but enough to get Michael’s attention.
“I’m taking custody of that boy.”
Michael pulled himself free and shook his head. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”
“You’re a felon. You think a judge is gonna let you keep custody after all the shit you’ve done?”
Michael met his eyes – they were blue and bloodshot. His teeth made it clear he had smoked some things in his lifetime, likely recently based on other physical attributes he noticed. “You’re no different than me. You just haven’t gotten caught. And you’re actively using. As soon as the court knows that, it’s a no-brainer. If these tests come back that he’s mine, I won’t sign my rights away. There’s no way I’ll ever let that boy stay in a house where…”
“Where what?” Marilyn exited the exam room with Jace beside her. “Tell us what happens in our house, Mikey.”
Michael looked down at Jace who was holding his arm, displaying the cartoon bandage he got and a sucker for being so brave. He wasn’t going to do this in front of the child. He had seen enough at that age and didn’t want to let the kid go through the same things he had.
