Page 5 of Nanny for the Bikers

3

TELLER

My heart pounds against my ribcage as I pace the beige linoleum flooring, the fluorescent lights humming overhead. The waiting room is too small, too stuffy, too silent. I can’t breathe.

Clay sits hunched in one of the plastic chairs, elbows on his knees, hands clasped tightly together as if in prayer. His eyes are fixed on some invisible point on the floor. Kip lounges beside him, long legs sprawled out, Piper in his arms.

“What’s taking so damn long?” Kip groans, moving Piper to his side so he can run a hand through his sandy hair. “We’ve been here for ages.”

Clay shoots him a sharp glance. “It’s only been half an hour. These things take time.”

“Well, time needs to hurry the hell up,” Kip grumbles.

We’re all tired and agitated. If they’re anything like me then I’m sure they didn’t get a wink of sleep last night either.

I check my watch for the tenth time in as many minutes. 10:37 AM. I resume my pacing, the soles of my shoes squeaking against the floor. Clay stands abruptly, stretching his arms overhead. “What if she’s ours? What if...what if I’m not cut out for this? Being a dad?”

Before I can respond, the door opens, and Dr. Vernon steps into the waiting room, a manila folder in his hand. I’ve never been more happy and terrified to see another man in my life. My mouth goes dry, palms slick with sweat. This is it. The moment that could change everything.

Dr. Vernon clears his throat, his expression unreadable. “Gentlemen, if you’ll follow me.”

We trail after him, a tense procession down the narrow hallway. My heart pounds against my ribs, a staccato rhythm that echoes in my ears. We file into Dr. Vernon’s office, the space suddenly too small for the weight of our collective anxiety. I perch on the edge of a chair, my knee bouncing erratically. Clay leans against the wall, arms crossed, his usual grin replaced by a tight-lipped grimace. Kip settles into the remaining chair, carefully adjusting Piper in his arms. She nuzzles into him, tiny fingers curling around the collar of his shirt.

Dr. Vernon settles behind his desk, the folder placed deliberately in front of him. He laces his fingers together, leaning forward slightly. “I know you’re all eager for the results,” he begins, his voice calm and measured. “But before we get to that, I want to commend you for stepping up in this situation. It’s not every day that three bachelor friends find themselves in the position of sudden fatherhood.”

Kip snorts, a hint of his usual humor surfacing. “Yeah, we’re regular overnight daddies.”

The quip breaks the tension momentarily, drawing a chuckle from Clay and a wry smile from me. Dr. Vernon’s eyes crinkle at the corners, his own amusement evident.

“Indeed,” he agrees, his tone turning serious once more. “Now, about the paternity test.” He opens the folder, the rustling of paper unnaturally loud in the quiet room. “The results were a bit...surprising.”

My breath catches in my throat, my fingers digging into my thighs. Beside me, Clay straightens, his posture rigid. Kip’s hold on Piper tightens imperceptibly, his jaw clenching.

Dr. Vernon looks up, his gaze meeting each of us in turn. “The blood tests showed a match with one of you. However, there was a slight mix-up with the samples, which means...” He pauses, the moment stretching,

“A mix-up?” Kip echoes, leaning forward in his chair. “What do you mean?”

Dr. Vernon sighs, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “It seems there was an error in the lab, and the samples got mislabeled. We know one of you is the father, but we can’t say for certain which one.”

Silence descends upon the room, thick and heavy. I feel like I’ve been sucker-punched, the air rushing from my lungs. This can’t be happening. We came here for answers, not more questions.

Clay is the first to speak, his voice tight with barely contained frustration. “So, what do we do now? Can we retake the tests?”

Dr. Vernon nods slowly, his expression sympathetic. “Of course, we can run the tests again. But it will take some time to get theresults back with it being the weekend and then Memorial day on Monday.”

Time. The one thing we don’t have. We’re all about to explode from stress and lack of sleep.

Kip leans back in his chair, his lips pursed in thought. “What if we don’t retake the tests?” he muses, his voice quiet but firm, as he looks down at the baby in his arms.

I turn to him, my eyebrows raised in surprise. “What do you mean?”

Kip shrugs, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “I mean, does it really matter which one of us is the biological father? It’s not like we all won’t do our part anyways.”

Clay nods slowly, his gaze dropping to Piper’s peaceful face. “Kip’s right,” he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. “We all may as well be her dads anyway.”

I feel a lump rise in my throat. They’re right. Piper is ours, and we’re hers. That’s all that matters. “We all might as well reap what we sowed.”

Kip nods, his agreement swift and certain. “Damn right. Piper’s ours, end of story. It’s better she stays with us than…”

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