“Zebulon Fuller! Are you trying to give an old woman a heart attack?”
My mom was far from old. In fact she looked good and young enough that if it wasn’t for the few wrinkles around her eyes she could easily pass for my older sister instead of my parent, so I didn’t bother replying to that nonsense. Instead, I grunted and bent down to scoop Joss up as she ran at me. I wrapped an arm around her as she grabbed on to the end of my beard and pulled. It was something she did every time she saw me and it always made me smile. I gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek and made sure to rub my whiskers on her face as she giggled.
“Uncle Zeb, stop!” She wiggled until I put her down and dashed back to play with her friends.
I sighed dramatically and walked over to take one of the remaining seats at the patio set across from my sister. “How quickly I’m forgotten.”
Beryl was still frowning at me and wiping her damp fingers off on her jeans. “She’s almost eleven. Just wait until she’s a teenager and the boys she’s running to hug are the ones she wants to date.”
I let out a low growl at that and jerked when something freezing and slippery suddenly slipped down the back of my T-shirt. I leaned forward in the chair and practically pulled my shirt off over my head in order to fish out the ice cube Beryl had just dropped down the collar.
“You suck.”
“You’re the one that made me spill my drink. Jerk.”
We glared at each other for a second until my mom snorted and had us both turning to look at her.
“I kept waiting for the day when you two won’t argue like you did when you were little, but at this point I don’t think I’ll live long enough to see it. Zeb, it’s Saturday, why aren’t you working?”
I contemplated tossing the dripping piece of ice back at Beryl but instead dropped it back on the ground. I stroked a hand down my beard and looked at both of them solemnly.
“I’m in the middle of a situation and I needed to ask a friend for some help with it, so I took the day off. I also need to tell you guys what’s going on. It’s a conversation we need to have in person.”
My mom put a hand to her mouth and I saw it shake a little. Beryl’s eyes sharpened and she reached out a hand to put on my tense shoulder.
“Are you okay? Are you in some kind of trouble?”
I cringed involuntarily and shifted my gaze to the kids playing in the yard. “Some kind of trouble, I just don’t know what kind yet.”
“What happened?” Beryl kept her voice low and I could see worry filling my mom’s eyes. They were the exact same color as my own so I knew by the way they darkened that she was already expecting the worst and that made my heart squeeze and my breath lock up in my lungs. That was exactly the reaction I was dreading. I was back to having her look past me and seeing only the things I was capable of. I was used to being judged, but it hurt a little more when it came from someone you loved unquestioningly.
“A girl showed up at my jobsite this week and gave me some news that flipped my world upside down.”
Beryl’s fingers curled into my shoulder. “What happened to the lawyer you were all hung up on? The one you worked yourself to death trying to impress by building her your dream home?”
I shook my head slowly and bent to put my elbows on my knees so I could hold my head in my hands. She knew me too well. Sure the house was Sayer’s vision and her ultimate dream, but the work I put into her Victorian, the way I agonized and labored over every part of the remodel, meant I left a part of myself in the structure. Sayer’s home was my dream home and she didn’t even know it.
“This isn’t about some girl, Beryl . . . well, it is but not like that. Sayer is actually the friend I went to see to ask for help. She’s a family attorney . . . which I may need because there is a good chance I might have a family.”
“What?!” The whispered exclamation came from my mother followed by a whole slew of surprised curse words from my sister.
I pressed my fingers into my temples and sighed again. “Like I said, this girl showed up on my jobsite and dropped a bomb. She was pretty shaken but managed to tell me that her friend that had recently passed away identified me as the father of her child. A child that is currently on his way into foster care.”
“Oh, Zeb.” My mom’s voice was soft and I couldn’t bring myself to look her in the eyes.
“You can’t just believe some stranger, Zeb. Where’s the proof? This is ridiculous.” I knew Beryl would immediately go into defensive mode, and while I appreciated it, the proof was pretty clear when the child in question had my face.
I pulled out my phone and pulled up the image. Without a word, I put the phone down in the center of the table and waited for my family to take it all in. Tears immediately shined over my mother’s eyes, and for once Beryl seemed to have nothing to say.
“The proof is in the picture. I didn’t just believe her, and there are things about her story that add up and make me believe the boy could be mine. When I got out of prison I wasn’t in a good place. It was almost as hard to come home as it was to go in. Before I saw you guys after more than two years of being away, I needed a minute to get my shit together. That minute was full of some reckless choices on my part. Choices that very well could mean the boy is mine.”
My mom picked up the phone and I saw her hands shake. “This looks exactly like your picture from the first day of kindergarten, except you had on a Star Wars T-shirt.”
“I know, Mom.”
I finally looked up at my sister, who was staring at me with a mixture of compassion, aggravation, and that soul-deep understanding that we were ultimately in this together.