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The thought of potentially discovering a child that I had missed out on raising filled me with overwhelming emotions. How could I possibly move forward if this little girl turned out to be mine? So many years lost, so much time wasted.
But that doesn’t matter. Not anymore. Whatever I’ve missed, I’ll make up for it by being there for her from now on. But first, I need to know the truth. I heard Anya loud and clear when she said Kira’s father was a guy she had a one night stand with and couldn’t reach afterwards.
While what we shared was a little more than just a one night stand, I’d say I fit the description perfectly.
My mom’s making pancakes when I enter the kitchen and go to the fridge to grab a can of soda. “Good morning.”
She twists her neck to me and smiles. “Morning. Everything okay?”
I uncap the soda and drink half of it in one swig. I belch as the fizzy drink hisses down my throat. "I'm okay." That's what I tell people, but the truth is, I haven't been okay for two years. But this is just a minor issue compared to everything else.
She takes out the last pancake from the pan and places it on a heap of other mouth-watering pancakes. Turning off the stove, she leans against the counter and folds her arms. “What is it, boy? Speak.”
I consider not telling her, but I need her opinion. My mother takes in surprises the easiest, and she gives the best advice. If there’s anyone I would confide in, it’s her.
“What would you do if I had a child?” I ask, rubbing my jaw. The skin is rough, as I haven’t shaved in a couple of days.
She scrunches her nose and her eyes narrow. “You have a child, Brandon. Did you forget Alessa exists?”
I slide my fingers through my hair. “That is not what I meant. What if I had another child?”
She rolls her eyes. “It’s hard for me to understand you when you’re not saying anything sensible.”
I draw in a breath. There’s no easy way to tell her this, but I have to. She might be a little shocked, but she loves kids. She already loves Kira.
“I think Kira is mine.”
The silence that follows my announcement makes me feel uneasy. My mother doesn’t react, she just freezes and blinks at me.
“Mom?”
She doesn’t answer. She just keeps gaping at me.
“Mom, did you even hear me?”
“I wouldn’t be this stunned if I hadn’t heard you.” She heaves a sigh. “I’ve always found it surprising that she looks so much like you and Spencer when you were babies. One thing I don’t understand, though: how is she yours if it’s Spencer whom Anya dated?”
“Well…” I fill my mother in on the details of how I met Anya before my deployment. When I finish, she just sighs and goes silent again.
“What are you going to do if she’s yours?” she finally asks.
I take another long gulp of my soda. I haven’t thought through all the details yet, but I know that I’ll want to be a part of Kira’s life if Anya lets me.
Oh, fuck. I’ll also need to sort things out with Anya. I don’t know where our relationship is headed. I do know that I want to pick up from where we stopped, but I have to move at her pace. And I’ll have to resolve my own issues.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “But I’ll be Kira’s father if she’s mine.”
“I’m not judging you, Brandon. But right now, you’re barely even a father to Alessa. You’ve been off since you came back home, son.”
Does my mother know? Of course she does. She's always been observant and perceptive, but she only speaks up when she deems it necessary.
I open my mouth to argue, but she lifts a hand to stop me.
“I’m your mother. Do you think I don’t know about those horrible nightmares you have?” She takes a deep breath. “I’m not saying you’re a bad father, but Alessa is growing and she doesn’t have a mother. You can’t give her all the love she needs if you don’t work on your issues. And if Kira is yours too, then you’ll have to try twice as hard.”
I bow my head, refusing to look at my mother. If she knows, then she must’ve felt how much pain I’ve been in all along.
“There’s a lot we need to discuss, but I think you should talk to Anya and find out the truth first.” She grabs a plate, fills it with pancakes, and then tops it with some berries and honey. “Here, breakfast sweetheart.”
