Exposed By Dna

Exposed by DNA

Meghan called right when I was buried under at work. I didn't have time to talk, and almost dismissed her without listening, especially when she hesitated several seconds before speaking. Just when I was ready to tell her I didn't have time for this, she began sobbing. Hearing that, all else was instantly forgotten in the face of my daughter's obvious pain.

"Meghan, what's wrong, sweetheart? Tell me! I'm here for you." I felt helpless, listening to the anguish in her bawling. Has someone died? I wondered. Or had she been dumped by a boyfriend?

Was she pregnant? The endless possibilities for hurt tumbled around in my brain like clothing in a dryer.

"Oh, daddy." Meghan whimpered. "We need to talk to you." We? Maybe she was pregnant.

"Okay, I'll come home right now..." I began.

"NO!" my daughter insisted. 'We need to meet away from mom."

That was a twist. My wife was usually my kids' go-to person. "Okay," I repeated. "Where and when. You tell me."

We arranged to meet by the lake in the park, after work. "We love you, daddy," she said sadly, as she hung up.

I was worthless at work the rest of the day. I kept thinking about Meghan. "We love you, daddy." She sounded so sad. Why did her telling me that bother me so? And was "we", her and her siblings? Her and a lover? I couldn't concentrate on work at all.

Meghan was 16, her sister Diane 15, and their brother Ian 13. Their mother Joanna and I had met when I had shore leave in San Diego back in 2005. Joanna was a topless waitress, working her way through college at SDSU. I was a horny sailor who was lucky to make a connection with a woman who was a goddess, way too good for the seedy bar she was being groped in.

Long story short, I spent my entire leave with Joanna, and after going to sea for a short cruise, returned to San Diego determined to make her mine, permanently. We ran to Vegas, got married and were just settling down to a beautiful married experience when my ship was ordered to the Persian Gulf.

I moved Joanna back to my small hometown, where my parents had a rental house, they let us have. I tried to introduce her to some of my friends before rushing back to Dago for deployment, but she didn't seem to connect with them. Too square for Joanna. She was used to a more exciting group in San Diego. I figured she was a college girl there, so my hick friends probably were a little too parochial for her.

I felt bad about leaving her in a strange place without friends other than my parents. But her first letter put my mind at ease. She met a woman named Monica who she seemed to have bonded with instantly. Joanna was that type of person; just look at how quickly we bonded. Her letter was full of how much she missed me, but that she was keeping busy with Monica, her boyfriend Buckie and their friends.

She seemed happy, but I still felt guilty, not being able be there for her. But then I got happy news from her during my second month in the Gulf: Joanna was pregnant. Apparently, our goodbyes had an effect. Now Joanna wouldn't be alone.

I lucked out right after Meghan was born and was sent back to the States for training in an updated radar system. Joanna and Meghan were able to join me occasionally at the school. I loved my daughter the instant I saw her. And of course, I loved my wife. Many times, before returning to my ship, after seeing Joanna home the final time.

Déjà vu. I got happy news the second month in the Gulf: Joanna was pregnant, again. Diana was a reluctant baby. She waited until the 42nd week to make her appearance, amid worries of possible stillbirth. But she appeared hale and hardy. I was stuck in the Gulf, but Joanna sent me a letter with the play by play, as did my mom. My mom had one pregnancy that continued into the 43rd week and ended in a stillbirth. She was a nervous wreck by the time Diana finally made her appearance.

I rotated back to the States, had a week at home before returning to San Diego to go through my discharge. When I got back home, I was able to accompany my once again pregnant wife to my first Lamaze class. Ian rushed into our lives, appearing during the 38th week.

Joanna was kept busy with the kids and spending a lot of time with my now retired parents. I asked my mother what had become of Monica and her group. "Haven't seen much of them the last few months," my mother told me. "You know, having children makes it hard to keep up with your single friends. I think Joanna just settled down, that's all. She hasn't really made too many new friends. She's into playdates and preschool now. The people she knows now all have kids."

Joanna, the kids, and I settled down to an idyllic life in my hometown. I was able to parlay my naval training to an engineer position with the local TV station. It was a good paying position, and over the next 12 years I was able to move up to become a department head. We had a wonderful lifestyle, with healthy, active kids.

What could go wrong? What had gone wrong? I wondered as I waited by the lake. I was so nervous; I had arrived early. The waiting didn't help my state of mind.

Nor did the intense hugs that all three kids gave me. They all had tears in their eyes. They all seemed to be avoiding my eyes.

Meghan pulled me over to a park bench. I was seated between my daughters, with my son standing by us. Diana clasped one of my hands in hers and laid her head on my shoulder. She was crying.

"Daddy," Meghan gathered herself and began, "We love you. You are our daddy, always." She broke down and cried again. My God, what was this about. I was beginning to hyperventilate myself.

She began again. "Daddy, my class was given the assignment project of drawing up a family tree, and I had thought that I could get more by sending our DNA to 23&me." She wiped her eyes. "Cousin Elizabeth had told me about her family's results from there, and I thought it would be a great surprise for you and mom. So, I sent in mine, Diana's and Ian's"

I was having trouble breathing. I could only think of one place this was leading, and I didn't want to hear my daughter say it:

"Daddy, we're not your children." Meghan was looking at me with the most sorrowful face I'd ever seen.

I shook my head. "Wait a minute. You didn't have my DNA, so what makes you think you're not mine?" I almost laughed with relief. Whatever these kids thought, it had to be a mistake.

"Daddy, they show everyone you're related to. They show everyone in mom's family on the maternal, but the paternal side is full of people we don't know. Most of them are European."

That stopped me cold. I tried to think how they could get Joanna's side of the DNA correct, but not my side. "It's the same for all three of you?" It bewildered me. How could it be?

"Yes, and we all show as full siblings." Meghan said.

Diana squeezed my hand. "You're our daddy! YOU'RE OUR DADDY!" She buried her face in my chest.

Ian looked miserable, like he wanted to cry, but wanted to be a man. He sniffed and swiped his nose with the back of his hand.

We sat for a few minutes without talking. I listened to my girls quietly crying and to my son kicking at the ground with his shoe. Finally, I spoke.

"Give me the 23&me reports. Can you guys go to a movie or somewhere tonight. Maybe overnight? Let me talk to your mother." I put my arms around the girls and hugged them to me. Ian shook my hand, still trying to be manly despite his tears.

They agreed to spend the night at a friend's house. Meghan gave me the reports and they turned to leave when I stopped them. The three turned as one and looked at me.

"I am your father. No matter what. No matter what these reports say. There's no one else." I forced a smile. "You are my kids, and I couldn't ask for better ones." I kissed them each again with a hug.

When I was alone, I looked over the reports. There was no mistake. They were clearly Joanna's kids and not mine. Not one person on the paternal side was known to me. Absent were all my relatives, including my sister and her family.

I drove home to find out the truth.

Joanna was working on dinner, but turned around when I came in, opening her arms to give me my normal hug and kiss. She stopped, arms wide, when she saw my face. "What's wrong?"

I'd never spoken to her as coldly as I did then. "Who is their father, Joanna?"

Her face lost all color and her eyes widened in panic. "What? What do you mean?"

'Meghan did a 23&me on the three of them, Joanna." I got nose to nose with her, and growled, "WHO IS THEIR FATHER?"

Joanna backed up to a chair and sat down. "Ian has to be yours," she muttered, staring at the floor, and shaking her head.

"Bullshit. Ian's a match for both girls. Full sibling. Who have you been fucking, bitch? Are you still fucking them?" I was losing control. I was clenching my fist, with my arms tight to my side, to keep from hitting her.

"It's impossible, Jim. It's not possible." Joanna was shaking her head. She started to get up, but I grabbed her and slammed her back into her chair. She winched and looked at me with fear in her eyes.

"You sit there right now and tell me what happened, or do I have to beat it out of you?" Her fear grew with my threat. I was so hurt and angry I probably would have beaten her.

She stared at me for a moment, then dropped her head into her hands, defeated. She began so softly that I almost couldn't hear her when she started talking.

"It was so long ago. I was suddenly in this hick town, all alone. I loved you but you were gone. Your friends were so dull. But then I met Monica, and she took me to the local honkytonks. She had drugs, like there were at the club in San Diego." She sniffed and looked at me. "I was 19. I was used to partying. I loved you but you left me here.

"Monica and Buckie were fun. We partied, got high and drunk. You hadn't been gone for two weeks and I woke up in bed with Buckie. He had had other friends there as well. I don't know who the father was, but it was probably one of them." She looked at me with desperation. "I prayed that you were the father. I really did. You could have been. We did it a lot before you left." She looked down at the floor in defeat. "Fuck!"

I was stunned. "You weren't true to me for even two weeks? And you were fucking so many guys you didn't know who the father might be?" I stood up and pounded the table with both fists. "Are you fucking kidding me? You fucking whore!"

Joanna shrank back into her chair. "I didn't mean to sleep with them. We were partying, and then I woke up. They had used me."

"Oh yeah, you really resisted. Obviously, you resisted so well that for the next three years you resisted at least two more times!" I wanted to pound the table until I broke my hands. I wanted to pick up my chair and beat the refrigerator with it. I want to hurt Joanna; I wanted to hurt myself.

"No." My wife stood and walked to the sink, getting a glass of water, maybe to get away from me. "No, I resisted. But Monica had film. She threatened to show your parents if I didn't continue partying with her. She said gangbangs were more fun with another girl."

"Gangbangs? How many guys were you fucking?" I didn't want to know. Why did I ask?

"Buckie would arrange one or two 'parties' each week, with five or six guys each time. Sometimes there were more, and Monica would join in, but usually it was just me. I tried to control it. I used spermicide's and Plan B's, but when you were home, I must have screwed up." She looked up at me again. "But I hoped they were yours. I convinced myself that they were."

Joanna walked back to the table and sat down. She stared at me for a moment, lost in her thoughts. "I should have resisted more. I should have hated it." She shook her head, bemused. "But you know I like sex. You were all I needed. That's why I married you. I didn't need anyone else."

She looked at me sadly. "But you weren't here. And maybe being blackmailed by Monica was the excuse I needed, so I figured if I had to have sex I might as well enjoy it."

She saw the look on my face. "I know it hurts you, but I want to be honest. Yes, I was drugged, raped, and blackmailed, but then I went along with it." She began sobbing again. "You weren't here. You weren't here and I needed something. I went to clubs with Monica, and she 'encouraged' me to go out to the parking lot with her friends. We'd fuck in the backseat of Monica's car, or in Buckie's van, or in the guy's car if Monica was in hers. Then there were the gangbangs. They usually happened on Saturdays.

"Whenever you came home, I refused to go to the meetings Monica and Buckie arranged. I didn't go clubbing with Monica. You were all I needed." She stared at me, fearful and tearful. "I made sure that you never even met Monica and Buckie. You never even noticed. You were always either wrapped up with the girls or in bed with me."

"Speaking of the girls, where were Meghan and Diana while you were out getting your jollies?" I sneered at this whore, who was the mother of 'my' children.

"Your mother loved watching them for me. She knew I was lonely here. I'd never lived in a small town, like you. I was used to the partying and the excitement in San Diego. I was used to being groped and lusted after by sailors." She hung her head and sobbed. "Damn it, I was used to being fucked!"

I was shocked. My wife was now glaring at me, like this was my fault. I wanted to strike back at her. "So, are you still whoring with Monica? Or do you have a new pimp?"

Joanna smirked wryly. "Good choice of words. I'd been partying, thought I was fucking for the fun of it. Then one night, just before you returned for good from the Gulf, Monica got sick, so I went to the club by myself, since I'd already given the kids to your mom." She shook her head and grimaced. "I didn't have to go to the club, since Monica wasn't forcing me that night, but by then clubbing and fucking was what I did.

"Anyway, one of the regulars from the gangbangs was there, and I went out to his car with him. After he finished, I was dressing when he handed me some cash. I asked what that was for, and he said since neither Monica nor Buckie were there, he thought he should give it to me. Usually, they take it.

"That's when I realized I wasn't the slut I thought I was. I was a whore." Tears again streamed down her face. "I thought I had low self-image, but that night I found out I was even lower than I thought."

She looked into my eyes several moments before continuing. "That's when I told Monica and Buckie to go fuck themselves. I threatened to go to the cops, even if it meant I would be arrested for prostitution. You were coming home within the month. I just wanted to spend my life with you." Her face twisted up as she said, "I only wanted you."

"A month? That doesn't explain Ian", I taunted her.

"I can't explain Ian. Buckie insisted on one more fuck, but I used spermicide and made him wear a condom. I was sure Ian was yours. But then he was early."

I sat for several minutes. We stared at each other, silently. I thought about the years we had been together, wondering if it had been just us, or were there others in bed with us, so to speak. Then I thought, "Two weeks? Two weeks alone and she was fucking Buckie?"

I realized then that I would never trust her. "Pack your shit, say goodbye to the kids and get the fuck out of my life. I could probably have forgiven you if you'd told me when you first woke up with Buckie, but how can I ever trust anyone who admits that they enjoyed whoring themselves out for years? Even when you didn't have to, you couldn't wait to spread those legs."

"But it's only been you since that last time with Buckie. I've always been faithful..." She saw the look in my eyes. She knew we would never get past this. She sobbed as she rose and left the room to pack.

I left the house. I found out later that she had packed up most of her clothes and left. I don't know where she stayed, but she came to the house the next day while I was at work. She wanted to try to explain it all to the kids. They weren't kind to her. Meghan in particular was extremely vicious.

My neighbor across the street later told me that Meghan had chased her mother out of the house, calling her a slut and a whore. She was yelling at her to go prostitute herself somewhere else, while the neighbors came out to see what the hubbub was, and Diana and Ian watched from my porch.

We never saw Joanna again. She had stopped at the bank and taken most of our savings. She left me with the investment accounts, so I ended up with more than half our worth, not counting the house. I didn't know where to have her served with divorce papers, so I just waited for the two years required to file for abandonment.

Epilogue:

My mother loved Joanna like a daughter. She loved my kids even more. I dreaded telling her about Joanna's prostitution and the unknown (although probably Buckie) parentage of the kids.

I sat at the kitchen table, drinking her coffee, and delivered the bad news. Her face literally collapsed as she sobbed at the horror of it all. "And the kids, they're not yours? The DNA shows that?"

"Yes. They're related to a bunch of Swedes, apparently. Most of their relatives are in Sweden."

My mother's head jerked up. "What do you mean? Did they match your DNA?"

I explained how we'd never done my DNA but didn't have to. My children should have matched my sister and her offspring.

My mother shook her head in disbelief. "I never thought it mattered. That's why we never told you. I really thought it didn't matter. You're my son."

I wasn't sure what mom was saying. I was her son? Wasn't I my father's son? My kids still would have matched my sisters? "Mom, what are you saying?"

She looked at me, almost pityingly. "Son, you were adopted. We had a Swedish au pair for your sister who got herself pregnant. We wanted a son, so we adopted you. Your birth mother went back to Sweden after you were born. You were our son, so we never told you."

Well, I went out and had my DNA tested and it matched with all three of MY children. They were mine.

As I said, we never saw Joanna again. I don't know what happened to her and was never able to tell her that I was the father of her children.

But did it matter? If it hadn't been for the DNA not matching my sibling's, I would have never known about my wife's sluttish past and probably would have remained happily married. But would the fact that the children were mine have allowed me to get past her past?

NO. It comes down to those two weeks being the limit to her marital fidelity. And the fact that even if she was forced initially, she admitted embracing the life that Monica and Buckie provided her.

As I now tell my kids, who would have thought marrying a topless waitress from a dive bar in San Diego would turn out like this?