Page 105 of Who's Your Daddy?

He takes out a plastic bag that contains about six small Ziplock bags filled with some partially frozen white stuff. Lifting one out, he turns it from side to side to figure out what it is.

“I think it’s breast milk,” Dylan offers.

“Ew!” Scott flings the bag, and it hits me in the face before landing on my lap. “Shit, sorry, Pete. I’m a little uncomfortable touching something that came out of your girlfriend’s—” He stops himself short when my eyes narrow at him. “Never mind.” He goes back to rummaging through the bag and pulls out a folded piece of paper. After dropping the empty backpack on the floor, he unfolds the paper. “It’s his birth certificate. Looks like he was born on March, fourth, so he just turned two months on Monday.”

I let out a slow breath, and Scott must sense that I’m taking strain because without looking at me, he lightly taps me on the back.

“Looks like there’s another piece of paper here.” He moves the birth certificate behind the other piece of paper. “It’s a letter...uh...” He glances at me, and I give him a subtle nod to read it out loud. “Dear Peter. I know it must come as a surprise to hear from me after all this time.”

“Well, would you look at that?” I add sarcastically. “I just found out something new about her. She’s an undercover mind-reader.”

He ignores me and continues. “And I know that I’m probably the last person you ever wanted to see again, but it seems like Fate has other plans. A lot has changed since we last saw each other. I’d like you to meet Ambrose. I—”

“What?” I cut in. “What’s his name?”

“Ambrose.”

I don’t believe it. I snatch the birth certificate from his hand to check for myself, and there it is in black and white.Ambrose.

My body turns to ice, and I can literally feel the blood draining from my face. I stand up so fast I almost stumble. “Just...uh...just give me a minute.”

On unsteady legs, I walk to the kitchen. I’m not sure what I want, but I need...something. I open my fridge and the strongest thing I have in there is beer. With trembling hands, I pop off the lid and gulp down half the bottle.

Why would she name him that? He’s not my kid. She left with every intention of never seeing me again, so why would she name him that? It’s going to take an army of psychotherapists to help me figure out how this chick’s mind works.

I know I need to pull myself together, but I am so fucked up right now I don’t even know where to start. After gulping down the rest of the bottle, I inhale a few breaths to brace myself before returning to the living room. I sit down again, and Scott resumes reading as if I never left.

“I need to go away for a little while. Hopefully, I can talk some sense into Teddy and then I’ll come back to get him. I’ll be back in a week. Two weeks at most. Please don’t report me to the authorities. I can’t lose my baby, which is why I’m coming to you. Please know that I wouldn’t drag you back into the chaotic mess of my life if it wasn’t necessary. I don’t have any other options. He is the most precious thing in the world to me, and there is absolutely no one else I trust more than you to keep him safe. I know I messed up. I know I hurt you, and I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done. I have no right to ask anything of you, and you’re already taking on so much because of me, but can I ask for one more thing? Please tell him I love him every day. Eternally indebted to you...Lia.”

I slump back against the couch, the weight of those words making it impossible to sit upright. The reality of the situation hits me like a ton of bricks. This is not a dream. This is really happening. She really just left her baby here with me.

There’s dead silence for two solid minutes before Dylan releases a heavy sigh. “So...I think we need to take stock of what you already have...and then we need to go shopping for what you don’t.”

“No,” I say, my voice hoarse. “He can’t stay here.”

Dylan’s jaw clenches. “And what do you suggest we do with him, Pete?”

“I don’t know! This is not my problem. He’s not my responsibility.”

That instantly sparks Dylan’s ire. If he didn’t have a baby in his arms, he would’ve punched me for that. “This is a living, breathing tiny human. He’s not some ragdoll you can just discard or hand over to someone else. She has put her full trust in you to do what’s best for him, so you need to—”

“I don’t need to do anything. I-I can’t keep this kid. I can’t...look after him by myself.” I sound like I’m utterly panicked...because I am. This is something I am in no way prepared for. “We were supposed to do this together, Dyl. This isn’t a one-man show. I have no idea what to do.”

“Well, you’re gonna figure it out. And Scott and I are gonna help you. Isn’t that right, Scott?”

Scott nods, but only because he doesn’t want to piss Dylan off more. “Yep. We’re with you all the way, Pete.”

“Okay, so let’s make a list of—” Dylan is cut off by a small cry coming from the bundle. “Oh, hey there. Have you decided to join the land of the living?” He gets another wail in response. “Are you hungry? You must be starved.” He walks over to the couch and grabs one of the Ziplock bags before looking over at me. “Do you have some bottles?”

My ears remain fixated on that tiny cry, and I simply nod. They know me so well that they just continue working around the various stages of my emotional breakdown.

“I’ll get it,” Scott offers. “It would be in the nursery, right, Pete?”

I nod again, and Scott leaves the kitchen. I silently watch Dylan as he tries to settle him, but his cries just get louder and louder. Eventually, the wails reach a level where it feels like my brain is about to explode.

I stride over to Dylan. “Let me try.” I carefully take the tiny bundle from him. “C’mere, bud.” I lift him to my shoulder, and he’s so small my hand spans over his entire back. It’s uncomfortable at first because he seems so fragile, and I have to consciously focus on being gentle. “Food is on the way, okay? We’re just waiting for Scott to get his ass in gear.” I’m not sure if I startle him, because he quietens almost instantly.

“I think he recognizes your voice,” Dylan says.

---