sure.”
To be sure . I think about Benji, how much we both wanted to be excited, but felt afraid to until we were certain.Even without the results yet, just a swab of my spit mailed overnight to the lab he'd contacted, had made me feel better.I nod at Fiona's suggestion.
“I’d need his consent, though,” I realize, after a beat, “to get his DNA.”
Fiona shifts in her seat, stirring her coffee idly.“Not necessarily,” she says.
I stare at her.Slowly, it starts to sink in: I’ve got two choices.Like my others, neither is easy.
I can tell Alex the truth, or I can try and track down Silas.
Chapter Two
Over the next few weeks, I research every avenue I've got to find Silas while Alex—already in an adorable, yet severely guilt-inducing, baby craze—searches for jobs.“We’ll get everything we need, don’t worry,” he told me the first morning of his job hunt, as I helped him knot his new tie.“I can tell you’re freaked out, but I’m going to make everything perfect.”It practically killed me to reflect his smile back at him.
Finally, in early February, I find something I might be able to use.
It's right after my DNA results come back: Benjamin Brinsley is, in fact, my father.He calls to share the good news, then asks how his grandchild's doing.
“Growing normally,” I tell him, trying to sound excited.“We'll try to visit soon.And you're invited to the birth—September.”
“Wouldn't miss it, sweetheart.”
When we finally hang up, I look at my computer screen.I'd been idly Google-searching as my father and I chatted, pausing during the silences so he wouldn't hear my keyboard and assume I was bored.I was, a little, but only because I wasn't sure what to say to him.Updating him on my life felt strange—partly because he didn't know much about my life to begin with, and because my life stayed the same, day-to-day.The only matters of interest were things I couldn't tell anyone but Fiona.
What are you up to? I imagined him asking.
Gee, not much, Dad.Just trying to find out who my baby's dad is, since I slept with two guys in the same night.What's new with you?
When I hang up, diving back into research, a name catches my eye: Dr. Stewart Ramirez, a reconstructive surgeon in Mexico City.My hands feel numb as I type the number on my laptop into my cell.
After several rings, I get a receptionist voicemail.“Hi,” I stutter, and then hang up.I dial Fiona’s number.
“You found him?” she says, after I give her the update.“That’s awesome.”
“I don’t know if it’s him,” I admit, “just that he’s a really prominent surgeon in Mexico.Silas said he had a really hard time finding someone who’d do the procedure, so what if the doctor’s flying under the radar?”I sigh, pushing my hand through my hair, staring that the phone number on my computer as though it will transform into an answer.
“Then why’d you hang up?Just ask if he’s treating Silas’s daughter.”
“I don’t know if he’d tell me.Especially if the procedure’s not entirely legal.Or maybe Silas paid him off, you know, in case police called to track him down.I know it sounds crazy—”
“No, it sounds pretty on-point, actually,” Fiona interrupts.I hear dishes and water in the background, such a normal thing, and wonder what Fiona’s life is like.I know it’s not perfect—her last long-term relationship ended when she confirmed her boyfriend was, in
To be sure . I think about Benji, how much we both wanted to be excited, but felt afraid to until we were certain.Even without the results yet, just a swab of my spit mailed overnight to the lab he'd contacted, had made me feel better.I nod at Fiona's suggestion.
“I’d need his consent, though,” I realize, after a beat, “to get his DNA.”
Fiona shifts in her seat, stirring her coffee idly.“Not necessarily,” she says.
I stare at her.Slowly, it starts to sink in: I’ve got two choices.Like my others, neither is easy.
I can tell Alex the truth, or I can try and track down Silas.
Chapter Two
Over the next few weeks, I research every avenue I've got to find Silas while Alex—already in an adorable, yet severely guilt-inducing, baby craze—searches for jobs.“We’ll get everything we need, don’t worry,” he told me the first morning of his job hunt, as I helped him knot his new tie.“I can tell you’re freaked out, but I’m going to make everything perfect.”It practically killed me to reflect his smile back at him.
Finally, in early February, I find something I might be able to use.
It's right after my DNA results come back: Benjamin Brinsley is, in fact, my father.He calls to share the good news, then asks how his grandchild's doing.
“Growing normally,” I tell him, trying to sound excited.“We'll try to visit soon.And you're invited to the birth—September.”
“Wouldn't miss it, sweetheart.”
When we finally hang up, I look at my computer screen.I'd been idly Google-searching as my father and I chatted, pausing during the silences so he wouldn't hear my keyboard and assume I was bored.I was, a little, but only because I wasn't sure what to say to him.Updating him on my life felt strange—partly because he didn't know much about my life to begin with, and because my life stayed the same, day-to-day.The only matters of interest were things I couldn't tell anyone but Fiona.
What are you up to? I imagined him asking.
Gee, not much, Dad.Just trying to find out who my baby's dad is, since I slept with two guys in the same night.What's new with you?
When I hang up, diving back into research, a name catches my eye: Dr. Stewart Ramirez, a reconstructive surgeon in Mexico City.My hands feel numb as I type the number on my laptop into my cell.
After several rings, I get a receptionist voicemail.“Hi,” I stutter, and then hang up.I dial Fiona’s number.
“You found him?” she says, after I give her the update.“That’s awesome.”
“I don’t know if it’s him,” I admit, “just that he’s a really prominent surgeon in Mexico.Silas said he had a really hard time finding someone who’d do the procedure, so what if the doctor’s flying under the radar?”I sigh, pushing my hand through my hair, staring that the phone number on my computer as though it will transform into an answer.
“Then why’d you hang up?Just ask if he’s treating Silas’s daughter.”
“I don’t know if he’d tell me.Especially if the procedure’s not entirely legal.Or maybe Silas paid him off, you know, in case police called to track him down.I know it sounds crazy—”
“No, it sounds pretty on-point, actually,” Fiona interrupts.I hear dishes and water in the background, such a normal thing, and wonder what Fiona’s life is like.I know it’s not perfect—her last long-term relationship ended when she confirmed her boyfriend was, in
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