Starry Dream
Before my wife went into labor, a nurse handed me a stack of consent forms.
Buried among them was an optional prenatal paternity screening offered through St. Briar Medical Center's new genetic-services program.
I'd barely started signing when my mother-in-law, Margaret, charged at me and slapped me across the face.
"You monster! My daughter is risking her life to give you a child, and you want a DNA test?"
Before I could explain, the hospital-room door flew open.
Vanessa pressed a pair of medical scissors against her neck, her eyes bloodshot.
"Daniel, I've given you seven years of my life. You know who this baby's father is. Why would you humiliate me like this?"
When I saw the thin line of blood on her throat, my heart broke, and I dropped to my knees.
I tore up the testing form and ordered my attorney to draft an unconditional agreement transferring assets to the baby.
To comfort her, I drove across Aldercrest searching for her favorite honey-lavender shortbread.
But when I returned to the hospital room, I heard laughter inside.
"Vanessa, thank God we reacted quickly. If he'd signed that testing form, everything would've been over."
"Why worry? Daniel's an idiot. I only have to cry, and he believes me."
Then a familiar male voice said, "Once the birth certificate gives the child the Raleigh name, everything Daniel owns will belong to the three of us."
The words froze me outside the door.
I turned away and called my attorney.
"Cancel the agreement. Then hire an investigator and uncover everything."
At the baby's welcome reception, I would personally present Vanessa with the gift she deserved.