Lainey and I are just coming back to our building from the gallery where her show opened last week to rave reviews. It had been David and my first public outing, and fortunately, the paparazzi were kind, not to mention that Lainey was fiercely protective of David and me. Since the show, Lainey’s sold almost all her pieces and has two offers from other respected galleries.

On our way back, we had stopped at my PO Box, and since then, although I’m trying hard to concentrate, I don’t hear much of what she’s saying. My mind is on my mail in my purse. In just a couple minutes, I’ll be in my apartment and can open that envelope which threatens to burn a hole in my bag. It’s been two weeks since the blood draw with Jimmy.

“Which do you think?”

“Sorry, what?” I say, embarrassed to have missed the question.

“The… Never mind, where have you been? I swear you’ve been MIA since we left the post office. Is everything okay?”

She’s so caring, and I feel like a bad friend for not cluing her in on everything going on. “Can I distract you for a bit from the gallery stuff?”

“Oh God, please! I feel like it’s all I think about, and I really want to think about something else!”

The elevator gets to our floor, and we walk off. “Come inside for a bit. This is a long story if you have time.”

“Gladly!”

Once inside, I grab us a couple of bottled waters, and we sit in my living room.

I decide to go for broke with my story and dive right in.

“So, my real name is Crystal Jameson,” I say.

“Right. We went over that the other day,” she says, unbothered.

I take a deep breath and then dive into a quick overview of my life in Harton with my criminal brother and alcoholic mother. I tell her about the lottery, and now my drama with Jimmy Goodman. She already knows about David.

“I just can’t even,” she says, her eyes wide and glassy. “I mean, what are the odds? I’d say you should play the lottery, but you already did that! Holy shit!”

“You’re not mad at me for not being totally honest earlier?”

“Hell no! We all have our secrets. One day I’ll tell you mine, okay?”

“You have secrets?”

“I might,” she says with a coy smile.

“Well, this…” I say, digging out the envelope from my purse, “… will confirm the whole Jimmy Goodman part.”

“What are you waiting for? Open it!”

“What if it says Jimmy’s not my dad? And I’ve gotten my hopes up for nothing? And his? You should have seen how happy he was when we went for the test and then ice cream later. What if I was wrong?”

Lainey puts her hand out. “Want me to do it?”

I almost let her open it but decide to put on my big girl panties and do it myself.

I tear open the envelope. “Should I wait for David? I mean, he was the first person I told. He helped me talk to Jimmy. And I should probably do this with Jimmy.”

“Maybe. Your call. But I don’t know how you didn’t tear that envelope open at the post office.”

“I know, right?” I laugh with her. It feels good to laugh. And who knows, with what’s in this envelope, I might not laugh again for a very long time.

Just then, my cell phone rings. I glance at the screen and see it’s David.

“Well, speaking of the devil,” I say, answering the call.

“All good stuff, I hope,” he says back, a smile in his tone.

“Um, I dunno. I just got the results from the lab.”

“And… What does it say?” he asks tentatively.

“I haven’t read it yet.”

“Perfect. Can you wait for two minutes? Jimmy and I are almost at your place.”

“You are?” I ask. “Why?”

Is that a good thing? Does he know what the results are? Is it bad? He knows how high I’ve gotten my hopes up, and does he want to be here to console me?

“Hey, you still there?”

“Yeah,” I say trying to sound light, not like the weight of the world is on my shoulders. “Lainey and I can wait.”

“Lainey’s there?”

“Yeah. And… I… I filled her in.”

“Good,” he says gently. I can hear the smile in his voice. It almost makes me smile. “I’ll be there in one minute.”

“That was David,” I tell Lainey as I hang up the phone. “He and Jimmy are almost here. He knows the results are in.”

Lainey must have read my face and puts a hand on my knee. “It’ll be okay, no matter the results,” she assures me.

I know she’s right, but over the past couple of days, I’ve let my hopes take over. I like Jimmy. He’s a good man… Haha, I laugh to myself. Good man. Goodman. How appropriate.

I’m paralyzed to the spot. My fingers are hot and tingly with the fear of what’s in the envelope, and my eyes are unable to shift from the paper as if they are trying to read through it. This envelope holds the answer to a question I’ve had my whole life. Is it the key to my happiness? If Jimmy is my father, then what? We’re too late for daddy-daughter dances, right? He won’t be able to teach me to ride a bike. And what if Jimmy’s not my father? Will I keep looking? Or can I go back to my blissful little bubble and not really care about finding my father? It’s information I’d given up on knowing more than ten years ago. And will he still be so willing with the ‘scholarship.’

I’m so wrapped up in my barrage of questions and no answers that I don’t even hear the concierge phone ring, nor Lainey answering the call and letting David and Jimmy in my front door.

“Hey,” David’s comforting voice says off in the distance. I feel myself relax a bit when his arm wraps around my shoulder as he takes a seat next to me and kisses my temple.

Next, Jimmy pulls me up into his arms. I take a deep breath.

“Shall we open it?” Jimmy asks, pulling his own envelope from his coat pocket.

I step back and look into his comforting blue eyes.

“Well, I don’t care what those papers say,” Lainey blurts looking at me and Jimmy. “You two are definitely related.”

I laugh and introduce Lainey and Jimmy, and then we all take seats with Jimmy on my left and David on my right.

I show Jimmy where I started peeling at the flap but nothing more.

“What are we waiting for?” he asks.

David rubs his hand up and down my back comfortingly.

“I—I don’t know. I don’t know if I want to know.”

“Of course, you do, honey,” Lainey implores. “Knowledge is power.”

“Open it,” David whispers.

Jimmy takes the envelope and opens it for us both.

I look over at the papers in Jimmy’s trembling hands. The first sheet is a form cover letter explaining jargon like alleles and genetic markers, how the samples are compared, and a brief explanation of ‘EXCLUDED’ and ‘NOT EXCLUDED’ and percentage of probability. He turns to the second page and I see a grid with three columns—‘Genetic Marker Tested,’ ‘CHILD,’ and ‘ALLEGED FATHER.’

Seeing the term ‘ALLEGED FATHER’ has my heart pounding.

I’m afraid to look under the columns.

Doubt and fear have me shutting my eyes.

“What does it say?” Lainey asks.

I open my eyes to find Lainey grinning and wide-eyed. I turn to see Jimmy handing David a cigar with a pink bow.

“Wait,” I say, totally confused. “What does it say?” I ask, grabbing the papers from Jimmy.

David says calmly, “Jimmy’s your father.”

Jimmy scoops me into his giant embrace, and I start crying.

I don’t know why. The tears just stream down my face. I’m so emotional I hardly know what to do.

“Talia? Hey, are you okay?” Jimmy asks, fatherly concern crinkling his forehead.

“I have a dad,” is all I can say.

Jimmy scoops me in his arms again and hugs me so tightly that if I could breathe at that moment, I wouldn’t be able to. I. Have. A. Dad.

“I knew it! I just knew it!” Jimmy’s bright blue eyes are shimmering with tears, and he’s grinning so enormously that I’m almost afraid his face might crack. “I can’t wait to tell Deb, but she knew it, too. Dinner. Tonight. Okay? Lainey, would you like to come?”

“Oh, thanks, but it’s Lance’s night off from performing, so we were just gonna hang out. You go be a family,” she says, grinning just as huge as Jimmy.

Jimmy nods and rattles off some details about dinner with Deb and David’s parents. He hugs me again and kisses my forehead, and I feel totally disoriented.

When Jimmy leaves, I try and figure out my feelings, but I’m so confused.

This should be a good thing. A very good thing. But somehow, right now, all I can think about is my mom. How will she handle this information? Jimmy has done well. Very well. How will she be when she learns?

I’ve been thinking about her a lot over the past couple of weeks.

“Guys,” I say to Lainey and David, "I need to call my mom.”

“Sure, hon,” David says, a kiss to the top of my head.

I grab my cell phone and head into my bedroom without a clue of what I'm going to say to my mother.

The phone rings a few times, and I’m preparing to leave a voice mail when the call connects. My stomach drops when she doesn’t say anything.

“Hi? Mom?” I say tentatively.

“Ooohhh, Gryztalll-baybeee,” she slurs into the phone.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I know this voice. She’s… no, she can’t be!

“Mom? Are you okay?” I don’t know why I ask the question. I know the answer. She’s drunk.