Page 6 of One Sweet Lie

“He’s referring to a set of newborn children, Miss.” Jerry stepped in for me. “Not whatever the hell you’re talking about.”

“That’s not what he said.” She was nonplussed. “Is it?”

“Pierce Dawson?” A doctor stepped behind the desk, and the receptionist rolled her chair far away. “Wow. I’ll have to tell my wife I saw you tonight. Something I can help you with?”

“I’m here to see a pair of twins.” I showed him the wristbands. “A nurse gave these to me.”

“Okay.” He scanned them. “Please secure those onto your wrist and follow me.”

I obliged, and Jerry remained behind with Olivia.

After leading me past a set of double doors, the doctor led me through a brightly lit corridor and stopped in front of a wall of plated glass.

“Lucky you,” he said. “Those little ones are right here in the front row. I never read anything in the press about you expecting children. Are you excited?”

His question hung in the air unanswered while I stared at the sleeping babies in plastic cribs. Swaddled in complementing sky-and-rose-colored blankets, their eyes were tightly shut, and their pale mushy faces hid under soft knit caps.

They don’t look like me at all…

“Be sure to put on all the PPE gear at the door before going inside to see them.”

“I can see them fine from here.”

The baby boy’s eyes suddenly fluttered open, and he looked straight at me, before shutting them again.

“See?” I said. “No resemblance. He doesn’t hold a stare like I do.”

“Um,what?”

“How reliable are paternity tests, Doctor?” I asked.

“When they’re done properly, they have a ninety-nine to one hundred percent accuracy rate.”

“But if you have a patient who just assumes who the father is, how do you handle that without getting a test done first?”

“That’s not my department.” He smiled. “But between me and you, one of my colleagues recently had a patient who kept almost everything from her relationship with a ‘rich asshole ex’ and she was certain he would deny it, so she—” He stopped talking mid-sentence, and his eyes widened. “I uh…Have a good night, Mr. Dawson. Pleasure to meet you.”

He disappeared, and I continued to stare at the babies.

Without thinking, I walked to the “Parent Station” and washed my hands. I pulled a hospital gown over my suit and walked into the nursery.

Stepping in front of them, I slid a finger through the boy’s bassinet and stroked his cheek.

“Awwww!” A nurse stepped behind me. “Are you Daddy?”

“No, I’m just a visitor.”

“Okay,Visitor Daddy.” She put on a stethoscope. “Well, just so you know, these sweethearts are doing far better than they were weeks ago, but their doctor still wants us to run a few tests.”

“Do they have names?”

“Not yet, but here’s a book if you need some ideas.” She placed it on a chair. “Take your time, Dad.”

I gave up explaining myself.

“Waaaaa! Waaaaa!” The girl suddenly shrieked like she was in pain, stretching her mouth as wide as her little head. “Waaaaa!”

I gently let go of the boy and approached her bassinet.

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