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Tom Scholz: "Well, I'm taking my time. I'm just moving on. You'll forget about me after I've been gone."
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Life was moving too fast. Over the last four years I'd graduated from college, found a great job, married Hannah, and started a family. Hannah and I met at a job fair. She wasn't a student, but helping with the logistics. She caught me glancing her way, and then I caught her glancing my way.
While she waited for her lunch order, I took the opportunity to strike up a conversation. Things moved quickly. I'd heard about avoiding bounce back relationships, but I was smitten. Hannah was on a double rebound. She'd broken up with her high school sweetheart two years prior, and then had recently broken up with his replacement.
Hannah seemed to be on a mission to get married. It never occurred to me that we should wait. I was that convinced that we were destined to be together.
So here we are, three years later, with a little boy who turned two three weeks ago, and a little girl who popped out six months back. I've been getting some hints that we need to add another.
Hannah is what some would call a micro manager. I think the word is helicoptering. Her kids are going to be raised HER way. She even jumps her mother's case if she gets any pushback. I think it's somewhat ridiculous to worry about every little detail, but then again, they didn't grow in my belly. So by now you've figured out that Hannah is a stay at home mother. No one is completely capable of looking after her children. It was a full six months after Steven, my son, was born before I was able to convince Hannah to let her mother watch him. We finally had a night out. Unfortunately, Hannah called every thirty minutes and really didn't enjoy herself. Life's been a challenge.
Work has kept me busy to the point that, during the week, I only get to spend a few minutes with the kids each night. On weekends, it's usually half a day or more each day, with an occasional full day devoted to my family. Today was one of those occasions where I had time to enjoy an afternoon with friends and family. We were hosting a backyard barbeque.
Hannah did a great job organizing the food for all, and the entertainment for everyone's kids. Attending today were several couples from where I work, several couples from the neighborhood, and of course family. Family was John, Hannah's brother, and his wife Suzie. Hannah's parents, Frank and Lois, were also here. My family lives a few states away. Oh yeah, the kids. Everyone had kids. Our backyard was overflowing with activity.
I was a passive observer that evening. Talking politics, religion, and video games just doesn't float my boat. All of the adults at the party wore sandals of one form or the other. Thankfully we had a slight breeze to dissipate the stifling heat. The ad-hoc firework show, illegal of course, would take place around 9:30 Pm.
Several of the adults were having a lively conversation. Rather than join in, I sat back and continued to enjoy people watching. John is infatuated with himself and his accomplishments. I'd reach my limit, so I excused myself to observe the kids playing. Since my infant girl, Sherri, was fussy, I started walking around with her.
Infants fascinate me. They are miniature people with tiny little fingernails and even tinier toenails. When Steven found me he claimed that someone spilled his drink. His right sock was now soaked orange. When I peeled those unmatched socks off, I chuckled. After fawning over Sherri's fingers and toes, it was apparent that Steven had nearly identical fingers and toes. Well duh, what was I expecting?
Just like that, I had a finger and toe fetish. Without much effort, I noticed that both of John's kids had similar big toes. They were kind of stubby, like a tablespoon. My kids have slim or skinny big toes, like a teaspoon. After Hannah took Sherri from me, feeding and a diaper change time, I rejoined the current inane discussion. John had actually let someone else talk.
My first glance was at my toes. Mine were tablespoons, so the kids must have Hannah's toes. Continuing my fetish, I glanced at the big toes of both John and Suzie, I could see where their kids got their big toes. Both were shaped like tablespoons. Their kids could have gotten theirs from either.
I gave my seat up to Lois, and then Frank snuggled up to her. It's pretty sweet to see a couple, who have been together close to thirty years, still cling to each other. I can only hope!
After they sat, I did some toe inventory. Both Frank and Lois had tablespoons for big toes. That's where John got his. As I sat there listening to why congress should do this or that, I had one of those 'oh shit' moments. If both of our kids, and both of John's kids, have identical toes, wouldn't it make sense that John and Hannah should have very similar toes? For our kids to have such different toes, that must mean that Hannah has different toes. Does that mean that Lois cheated and Hannah isn't really Frank's daughter? My heart was racing.
I can't go accusing. Be smart. Don't say or do anything. Take a day or two to figure something out. Walking around bought me some solace.
Hannah must have put Sherri down for a nap, as she reappeared childless. As casually as I could, I tried to avoid Hannah. I kept telling myself, don't do something stupid.
Eventually Hannah cornered me, something about getting more plastic spoons. Maybe I was confirming my suspicions about Lois, but when I looked at Hannah's toes, my heart sank. Tablespoons. I have tablespoons too, but our kids have teaspoons. Now my stomach was really doing flip-flops.
You can say I was naive. I realize now that I was clueless, but I wasn't stupid. To say I was distracted the rest of the evening is an understatement. Hannah jumped my case a few times. I got out of doing the fireworks by telling everyone that John wasn't capable of such an endeavor. Thank you Tom Sawyer.
Checking out the invited male guests, there were a few with teaspoons for big toes. I kept an evil eye on them. None of them paid any attention to Steven or Sherri. Twice more that night, I looked closely at my family's toes. Two parents with tablespoons, and two children with teaspoons. My knowledge of inheritable traits is near zero. The first thing I needed to do was search on the internet.
During the fireworks, Hannah planted herself in my lap. She caught me looking "What are you staring at Grant?"
"Your toes. All of a sudden I have a foot fetish."
This generated a round of teasing. My forced smile helped to hide the cramps my stomach was experiencing.
Needless to say, I had less than a restful night of sleep. In the morning, I did those internet searches. Could be a generation skip kind of thing. Still, I arrived at the conclusion that DNA testing was necessary.
Back online, I bought the test kit, to be delivered to my office. Hopefully it arrives in an unmarked envelope. This will be more than a little embarrassing if I've jumped to a wrong conclusion.
Following the instructions, I swabbed some cheeks and sent back the DNA test kit. Hannah's was the toughest to get, but she has a habit of falling asleep in her chair almost every night. Once her mouth was open, I soaked up a touch of her drool. Two weeks later my suspicions were confirmed. I'm not a father.
Presenting the results of the DNA test did not go as expected. The proverbial straw that broke my back was when Hannah shrugged her shoulders and smirked. I very much expected tears, of which there were none. Perhaps I had my hopes pinned on Hannah begging for forgiveness, which easily didn't happen. To say I was played is an understatement.
"You might as well just accept it Grant. It's obvious that I had an affair. That doesn't mean that I don't love you. Even though we only had sex the one time, when Steven was born it was obvious to me that you weren't the father. It was that cute nose. You have to admit that he has the cutest nose and dimples. Steven is such a wonderful baby. Once we started talking about having another child, I realized I wanted one just like Steven, so I contacted my lover and he promised to help me out. You even agreed that we should have another one like Steven."
I was ready to explode "NO FUCKING WAY DID I AGREE TO THAT!"
"Calm down. Semantics. I asked, you agreed. We had to fuck every day for about two weeks to make sure I was pregnant. That was the time I told you I had a yeast infection and gave you a bunch of blowjobs. You seemed to like that just fine. Again, this doesn't mean that I don't love you. You are a great father. As far as sex, up until now you have had no complaints. There's no reason things can't go forward exactly as before. You might as well just accept it."
My words were delivered slowly, dripping with venom. "I don't think so Hannah. I've had a few days to think about this, and I'll be filing for divorce."
"You know you'll still need to pay child support."
"Not happening. I'll become a vagrant before that happens."
Being young, and living from paycheck to paycheck, it didn't take long to move all of my belongings from our rented house to my cheap apartment. I had to get out of there before I did something that would put me behind bars.
