pieces | ethma

where do i go from here?

Grayson

I'm 25, and living in my own apartment across the hall from my own twin brother. We mutually decided that once college was over we couldn't live together anymore, but we still wanted to be neighbors.

Living in Nashville, Tennessee and having the time of our lives.

Ethan and I both have great jobs. We have enough free time to hang out with our friends pretty much any day we wanted, as long as it's after 5 in the evening.

Weekends are mostly free game.

Young, successful and having fun.

Today was about as normal as it could get. I got home, set my keys on the counter, and then I put my work backpack away in my bedroom.

Ethan comes over, we order a pizza and decide to stay in instead of going to the bar tonight. We haven't gotten much twin time lately, so we are just gonna play video games.

Ethan gives me a weird look when there's a knock at the door. I shrug before putting my napkin down.

"I don't know who's here, I wasn't expecting anyone," I say as I walk to the door.

I look out of the peephole, but I can't see anyone.

I open the door, and there is a baby sitting in a carseat with a diaper bag next to her.

"Uh, Ethan?" I ask.

"What?"

"Come here," I say, staring down at the child.

Ethan groans before getting up to come look.

"Oh my god. Is that yours?"

"If she is, I had no clue."

"Is there a note, or anything?"

"No clue."

"She kinda looks like you."

"Ethan, shut up!" I say. "What do I do?"

"Call the police or something, and tell them a baby was left at your door. Maybe they'll bring a social worker to help you figure everything out."

"What if she's mine? They'll let me keep her?"

"If she's yours, yeah. If she's not, maybe they'll ask if you can foster her or something. Wait! Call Cameron! She'll know what to do."

"Okay," I say, picking up the car seat and diaper bag and bringing them inside. Ethan puts the diaper bag on the counter while I set the car seat on the kitchen table.

The baby is quietly staring at me as if she recognizes me. She looks to be maybe five or six months old.

"You're quiet, aren't you?" I ask the baby. She smiles at the sound of my voice, which makes my heart melt. I'm gonna die of a broken heart if she's not mine.

"No note in the diaper bag," Ethan says, having emptied the whole thing.

"Is there a note in one of the pockets?"

"I'll check," he says. "I found a paper! Wait, it only says that her name is Lyla and her birthday is January 7th."

"That means she would've been conceived in March or April of last year."

"Did you go anywhere in March or April last year? Vacations? Did you go to Jersey to see mom and dad? Did you visit Cameron and go to the bar one night?"

"I don't know, Ethan," I say. "I'll call Cameron and get her advice, and then we can figure this all out."

Ethan walks over to look at the baby, who is now staring at him. "Hi, Lyla," he says. "You're really quiet today." Handing her a toy set of keys, she waves it around and smiles at Ethan.

Ethan laughs. "If she's not yours, can I take her?"

"Dude," I say. "Not cool."

Dialing my sister's number, I bring my phone to my ear.

"What?" Cameron answers the phone.

"Hi, Grayson? How are you," I say, already annoyed at my sister's attitude. "Actually, I have a very serious issue that I need advice on."

"What do you need?"

"Someone dropped off a six month old baby girl at my door, and the only information I have is that her name is Lyla and her birthday is January 7th. What am I supposed to do?"

"Call social services," Cam says. "They'll probably escort you to the hospital to do blood tests, and you can figure out if she's yours. I can drive down, I'm actually only thirty minutes away right now."

"You are?"

"I was seeing someone in the area," Cam admits.

"Okay, should I call now, or wait for you to get here?"

"Call now."

"Okay. Thanks, Cam."

"Yup," she says before hanging up the phone.

"What did she say?"

"To call social services," I say, looking the number up.

"Department of social services, how can I help you today?"

"Hi. My name is Grayson Dolan, and someone just dropped off a baby at my door with a diaper bag. The only information I have is that she was born January 7th and her name is Lyla. I don't know if she's mine, or any other information."

"Nobody was there when you found her?"

"There was a knock on my apartment door, and the baby was sitting in her car seat all by herself. Nobody else was in sight."

"Alright. I'll send someone out to check out the situation. There's a chance they'll have to bring you to the hospital for a paternity test."

"What happens if she's not mine?"

"We'll see if we can find her real parents, and if not we'll see if you're fit to foster her."

"Thank you," I say.

After giving the lady my address and contact information, two representatives knock on my door about twenty minutes later.

Ethan goes with me to the hospital, and we're able to determine that Lyla is my daughter. The social workers were able to help me out with getting a portable crib for her to sleep in for now, and any other supplies I will need to properly take care of Lyla.

"You seriously don't know who the mom is?" Ethan asks when we get home.

"No idea," I say. "She must've been born in a different hospital, because they didn't have any records of Lyla."

"Damn," Ethan says. "Well, I can officially say I'm an Uncle."

"I can officially say I'm a dad," I say. "I can officially say I'm a dad," I repeat under my breath.

This is going to be really interesting.