Lance
Katie and I sit in the doctor’s office. My hand in her iron grip, trying to let her calm demeanor flow between us. It’s not working. I’ve questioned my decision to find out if Hannah is mine numerous times, but I need to know. I’m positive it won’t change my feelings. She’ll always be my daughter, but I do need to know if Ainsley was cheating on me all through our marriage, how deep the betrayal ran.
I did try to speak to my ex-wife directly about my concerns, but she shot me down, not confirming nor denying my theory. She’s unrecognizable now compared to the girl I married a decade ago.
Back then, she was the young woman who lived life to the fullest and wore a smile wherever she went. Hannah refuses to go to her mother’s house now as the atmosphere is so bad. It turns out that after years of living together, Ainsley and Hamish’s passions have wavered. They fight regularly and rarely spend time together. Both have become bitter and twisted with the demise of their love.
When I told Ainsley about my relationship with Katie, she became aggressive, screaming at the top of her lungs. It was a saddening experience to watch the person you shared your life with self-destruct in front of your eyes. I remained calm throughout the ordeal, but walked away knowing things were only going to get worse between us.
“You okay?” Katie asks softly as she squeezes my hand.
“Yes. I just need to know now. I need to know if she’s biologically mine or not.”
The doctor appears in the waiting room. I jump at his greeting, not hearing him approach.
“Major McDonald? This way, please.”
He introduces himself and explains the procedure. Hannah will need to be brought in for a sample of saliva. It’s up to us whether we tell her the reason for the test. I’ve decided not to tell her after Katie convinced me it wouldn’t be a good idea.
“Lance, I can accept your decision to find out about her paternity. But unless the result is negative, then she doesn’t need to know. She’s nearly a young woman, not a child. This is a vulnerable time for her. The last thing she needs to do is question her identity unnecessarily.”
Katie and Hannah’s relationship progressed from enemies to friends at a rapid speed. After the incident in the bathroom, which Katie explained to me the next morning, Hannah has taken Katie as her confidante.
They discuss issues with the girls at school, swap beauty tips, and chat about anything remotely girly that I would never understand. Katie has become the role model in my daughter’s life that I hoped she could be ? prayed she would be. Hannah is the surrogate daughter that Katie could never have. It’s heart-warming to watch.
“Bring Hannah in tomorrow at 3 p.m. We can take the samples then. You’ll have the results within the week,” the doctor says.
“What will I tell her?” I ask him, panicked.
“Just tell her it’s a routine allergy test. I find that works well. Children rarely question these things.”
“You haven’t met my daughter,” I say, chuckling to myself. Katie snorts. Hannah thrives on asking awkward questions, on seeking out the truth. I can imagine her as a rogue journalist in the future. Heaven help her interviewees.
***
Katie
“I still can’t believe you’re getting married!” Amy continues to shriek about the shock she felt when I called to tell her I was engaged. She was on the next train to Scotland, promising to throw me the craziest bacherlorette ever.
Deep down, I know she’s concerned because Lance and I are moving fast, but she’s being supportive. Well, attempting to be, even though the occasional worry slips through. The‘are you sure’or‘you can always delay’, I ignore.
“Shall we get on with dress shopping?” I remind her of the reason we’re here. Keeping Amy on track is hard enough at the best of times, never mind when so much is happening.
“You’re having a beach wedding?” she asks for the umpteenth time. “Just the four of you. No one else is invited.”
“Yes, Amz. Just Lance, the children, and me. I don’t need anyone else there. Small, intimate, and understated.”
“It sounds lovely. I’m obviously gutted I won’t be there to see it, though.” She huffs, then flashes me a cheeky grin. Again, part of her isn’t joking. I know she was stung when I told her it was only us attending the wedding, but this wedding isn’t just about Lance and I. It’s the start of our family of four, and everyone there is involved in our new beginning.
“We’ll have a big celebration when we get back, but I’m not asking everyone to pay for flights to Barbados. I want my family to myself for the first few weeks,” I explain again. “This is important to me, Amz. Please understand.
“Sorry, Katie,” she says. “I’m being a bitch. The truth is, I’m jealous. You know I want you to be the happiest you can be.”
“I know.” I hug her tight, and we return to look at the racks of white summer dresses that could double as a wedding dress.
***
Lance