The After of Us (Judge Me Not #4)(11)

“I am, but”—she spreads her arms out as far as she can—“your house is so huge. What if I can’t find you? Where do you sleep, anyway?”

Pointing to the doorway, I say, “I’ll be just down the hall.”

Lily sits up and starts rubbing her eyes fiercely. And then she starts to cry. “Mommy’s not coming back for me ever, is she?”

I tell her the truth. “I don’t know, Lily. She may not. Or, if she does come back, it probably won’t be for a very long while.”

That makes Lily cry harder, and I silently curse Cassie. I rub the kid’s shoulder, but that doesn’t help. It’s only when I hold her in my arms that she quiets.

It’s awkward at first. The only kids I’m ever really around are Chase and Kay’s son and daughter. And though I give Jack and Sarah plenty of hugs, I never really hold them—not like this.

After a few minutes of comforting Lily, it starts to feel natural. Maybe deep inside, on some primal level, I know she’s mine. What I do know is she smells really good, all fresh and new and clean.

When I lean down to kiss the top of her head, I realize she’s fallen asleep. Gently, I ease her down to the pillows.

I don’t close the door all the way. I leave it open a crack, in case Lily needs me before morning.

Morning… What am I going to do about tomorrow?

In my room, I fire up my laptop.

Flying to New York City in a few hours is just not going to happen. I can delay looking at the apartment I’m interested in for a couple of days. I start the new job on Monday, though, and I can’t miss my first day.

And what am I going to do about Lily?

I clearly need time to set things up. Didn’t I hear somewhere that securing good daycare in New York City is a bitch?

If only someone could watch Lily for a while, like maybe for the summer.

“Chase,” I say out loud, as an idea is born.

Yeah, maybe Chase and Kay can take care of Lily. It’d only be for a short while. They have kids her age. Jack is five, like Lily, and Sarah is what? Four, I think. Perfect. It’s June, and there should be lots of kid things to do throughout an Ohio summer. Chase would know more about that. And Kay’s a stay-at-home mom these days. Plus, there’s all that extra room in their big farmhouse in Harmony Creek. Surely, my brother and his wife will be cool with this.

Quickly, I book flights for Lily and me to fly into the newly opened regional airport in Harmony Creek on Saturday. I then cancel my flight to NYC, the one that’s to leave in a few hours, and book a flight instead for Sunday night out of Ohio.

Good, all set.

Still, I don’t forget about the first order of business for tomorrow. Before I go to bed, I type out a text to Nash: Hey, any way you can expedite a DNA test?





Will



DNA test? Dude. WTF is up?

That’s the text I wake up to. It’s too complicated to reply with all the details, so I just call Nash.

Once I explain the situation, he tells me, “Yeah, sure. Go ahead and bring the kid in. It’s a simple mouth swab for both of you. And I’ll do what I can to get the results back pronto.”

“Thanks for doing me this solid, man.”

“Not a problem.”

“Not a problem” may be the case when it comes to my business with Nash, but I soon discover it sure is a problem, a big problem, trying to get Lily up and out of bed.

“I don’t wanna,” she cries after I ask her to get up for, like, the tenth time. Burrowing under the covers, I hear her, tone muffled, state, “I told you I’m sleepy.”

I’ve tried cajoling and pleading. Now it’s time to get serious.

“Come on, Lily,” I say in a stern tone that reminds me of my dad—my real dad, not Greg. “We have to leave soon.”

She peeks out from under the covers. “Where we have to go?” she asks warily.

“We have an appointment this afternoon. So, you need to get up so you can shower and dress.”

“I am dressed,” she yells belligerently.

She’s got me there. Oops, I forgot to make her change into pajamas. She still has on the purple “Princess” tee and jean shorts she was wearing last night.

I try another tactic. “Well, I bet you’re hungry. And if you get out of that bed right now, I’ll make us something yummy to eat. Okay?”

No response.

“Oh,” I add, “you should probably still take a shower, maybe put on some clean clothes. You want to be fresh and ready for the day, right?”

When she fails to respond a second time, I pull the covers off her in one fell swoop. Lily absolutely does not like that. She kicks and screams for all she’s worth.

Damn, she seemed like such an easy-going kid last night. What the hell happened?

Sprinkled between her crying jags, my little monster of a daughter informs me that she doesn’t take showers. “I’m a little kid, dummy dumbhead stupid. I take baths!”

“Don’t call your father names like that.” Is this me, Will Gartner, really uttering those words?

“Dummy, dumbhead, stupid, dummy.”

I make her sit up, dodging her slaps. “Quit trying to hit me, Lily.”

“I hate you!” she screams.

This is definitely Cassie’s daughter. It’s time to find out if she really is mine, as well.