Man of the Year (Drake Story)

Chapter Toogtyve

Not.

The word made such a difference. You are, you are not. Two different meanings, two opposites. But my reaction would be the same, whether the doctor told me that I was Makonnen’s father or I wasn’t. I would stare at him blankly. I would feel, for a few long moments, empty. Oblivious to the news I’d just received or to who was in the same room with me. I didn’t know how Amanda reacted at first, because I’d blacked out too early. But I was glad I missed it, anyway. She seemed like the type to cry, to make the situation worse by involving her emotions into something that would be much less painful if left dry and cold like the chairs we sat on. We didn’t sit on them for long; we couldn’t stay in the office and let the news marinate forever. We thanked Dr. Phite and left. Neither of us answered the questions Makonnen had about what had just happened or why we were so quiet. The others in the waiting room looked at us how we’d looked at the previous couples who came and left: wondering what our results were, feeling anxious about having the same expressions that we had once they found out their own big news. They were in for a run, all of them. They couldn’t imagine the feeling in my stomach until they experienced it themselves.

Chicago drove us in silence. Of course, he knew what we just came from doing, and he knew that whatever we’d discovered wasn’t something easy to digest, so he didn’t make conversation or ask what kind of music I wanted to hear like he usually did. Just did his job, just drove. I let Makonnen sit in the front with him, since the windows were tinted and no one would see. Amanda played with her fingernails like it was her only method of survival. I looked out the window at the night streets, the street lights and car hazards resembling stars in space.

“You don’t know how this feels,” Amanda broke the silence suddenly. Well, Chicago had been talking to Makonnen, so it was really our own sphere of silence she broke. “You don’t know how embarrassed I am, Aubrey.”

“You shouldn’t be. I’m embarrassed for being such an asshole to you, telling you over the phone that you were making this up when you really did have a child. I told myself that I couldn’t possibly be the father, that you were saying that just to manipulate me. Now that I know I’m not, it’s not as much of a relief as I expected. It’s a punch in the chest, kind of.” I told her.

She shook her head, pursing her lips the way she always did when she was about to cry. “No. That’s what I’ve always been doing. In college, you made it clear that you didn’t want to be with me,and I was always lying to you, always looking for ways to snake you back into my life. It never worked. It was never permanent, anyway. You had reason to think what you did.”

“But it was judgmental.”

She didn’t answer, just looked out the window like I had. I wanted to touch her leg, to comfort her, to stop the tears that I knew were rolling down her face. But of course, I couldn’t. It was still too awkward, and I was still an asshole.

“I told him you were his father,” Amanda’s voice cracked. “He asked. It was the night you first came to the house. After you left, he said that he just had the best day of his life, and he never had anyone to play with. He said you made him happy. He asked me if you were his father. I couldn’t break his heart. I said yes. I don’t know if he realizes that you’re not, if he heard what the doctor said, but someday he’ll figure out that his own mother, the one he should trust most, lied to him.”

Maybe it was time to stop. Maybe being an asshole wasn’t something I should live with anymore. It wasn’t something I should see as okay, that I should accept as a characteristic of my personality. I shouldn’t have a ‘take it or leave it’ attitude about it. Maybe it was time to change that. Maybe all of these experiences I’ve been having, the roller coaster my life has been, was all just to mature me. To help me grow up, mold me into a better man. Or a man, period. Maybe I should step up to the plate.