Fiction/Relationships/Football
O.N.C.E.—Chapter Four
One night changes everything
An hour later, I was able to leave the police station. The mouth swab took one second, but all the paperwork and the inability of the crime department—yes, where they did all the DNA testing—their inability to move at a speed faster than a snail made me stay fifty-nine minutes and fifty-nine seconds longer than I wanted.
Ericka followed the whole freakin time. I had no idea why. It was like she was the designated spokesperson for the family to make sure I got the test done. She never said anything, just stayed a close distance behind.
Kinda in a stalkerish way.
Weird, right?
The warm sunshine was a welcome relief from the frigid conditions of the office where they kept me confined. There was a party tonight, but fuck, was I really in the mood to go after everything that happened.
Hmm, maybe a couple of cold beers and a few fine asses were exactly what I needed.
‘That’s what got you here in the first place.’
The voice of reason decided to poke out its head and ruin the moment.
“What the fuck do you want, Ericka.” I spun around and confronted the pain in my ass who’d been following me for the past hour.
“Walking to my car, asshole.” She walked right past me and kept going to the parking lot off to the side.
‘Excuse me, bitch.’
I glanced around at all the parked cars, then remembered that I didn’t drive here and that my mom was nowhere to be seen.
‘What the fuck? This has been a fucking disaster day.’
I had only one option to get home since I’d left without grabbing my phone, and there was no way in hell I was going back inside the police department to use one of their phones. Definitely another sixty-minute wait.
My opportunity to get the hell out of here was driving slowly over the speed bumps, heading towards the exit. I stepped off the curb and into the pathway of Ericka’s small, beetlebug car.
A sinister glare was sent my way as she waited for me to move. I knew if I stepped away from her car, she would proceed to leave, and I would be stranded.
Yeah, I had friends to call. But that would mean I would have to explain why I was here at the station. It was better if things like this were kept quiet. No one needs to know the time Trent Mackenzie almost had a baby.
I said almost because I’m a hundred and ten percent certain the kid is not mine. Who knows who Marissa slept with that night or even afterward.
Ericka honked and waved her hand for me to move. I could lip-read what she was saying, and it looked like a long string of curse words.
“I need a ride home,” I yelled loud enough so she would be able to hear me over the rattlings of her car.
Another death glare was thrown my way, and Ericka inched her car closer. If it wasn’t a felony and for the fact we were right outside the police headquarters, I swear to God she would’ve run me over.
She threw her hands up in the air and nodded in the direction of the passenger side door.
I walked around the front of the car, making sure to keep my hand on it at all times just in case she would try to take off on me. She got a huge laugh when I jumped a bit when the engine revved, and the car crept closer.
Eventually, I made it into the seat, if you could call it that. I barely fit. My knees were almost up to my chest as I tried to squeeze my massive frame into the car, which looked like it was a kid’s plaything.
She drove slowly out of the parking lot, or maybe this was as fast as the car would go. It seemed like forever until we got on the stretch of a five-mile highway that led to my house.
“She looks like you.” Ericka broke the silence of our small space.
“Who?”
“Brook. Well, Brooklyn.” She scrolled through her phone while trying to manage driving. “See.” The phone was shoved toward my leg.
I looked down at the picture she wanted me to see. I felt the color drain from my face as it probably took on a lighter shade, but I quickly recovered. Just because the little girl looking back at me had curly black hair, green eyes, a perky little nose, and coloring that matched my own, doesn’t mean she was mine.
“Yeah, whatever.” I shoved the phone back her way. “She could look like anyone else out there. I’m not the only guy with dark hair.”
“Really, Trent. No one needs a DNA test to see Brook is yours. You’re such a dick.” Ericka pressed her foot harder on the gas, and we made it up to a whopping forty miles per hour.
The rest of the ride back home was quiet, guess I pissed the little goth freak off.
I didn’t say anything as the buggy rode up to the curb and slammed to a stop. I exited and watched as one angry woman drove off down the road.
‘Whatever, she’s fuckin irritating.’
For the next six days, I was on edge. Me and my boys played some scrimmage games against one another, did some four-wheeling, and drank a little bit here and there.
Fuck, why lie, most days, I had my fair share of beer and whiskey.
And believe it or not, I didn’t sleep with any girls.
Man, was I fuckin aching. I wanted to feel some sweetness wrapped all around me, but I contained myself.
I worked out a lot to relieve some stress, which was a benefit because I needed to be in prime shape once I got to USC. I had to be in the starting line-up, there were no ifs, ands, or buts about it. The only way to make myself known in this circus was to come out of the gate smokin hot.
“Trent, are you ready,” Mom called down the hallway for me.
‘Was I ready? Fuck no.’
Today was the day the test results would be in. The ones that would determine if mine and Marissa’s one night of drunken passion resulted in a child.
What the hell was I worried about?
Not mine.
Not mine.
Trent, you are not the father WILL be the outcome answer I will be read in a half-hour.
The little beetlebug car was the first thing I noticed when Mom and I pulled into the courthouse. I was guessing Ericka wanted to be first in line to be the witness when the results were read.
We had to meet here instead of the police department since the situation now warranted the intervention of the court system, like child welfare and such.
The secretary seated at the front office directed us back to a large office off the side of the trial proceedings room. The heavy wooden door slammed shut when we entered the judge’s chambers.
All eyes were on Mom and me. It looked like Ericka had made herself comfortable in the front of the room on a plush loveseat with an older woman sitting beside her. It must be her mom since they both had the same features.
Three other women and one man dressed in business attire stood at various points in the room. They all carried leather briefcases and were most likely part of the judicial system that dealt with such circumstances.
The judge, a woman in her late sixties, resided at a rich walnut and cherry wood desk strategically placed in the center of the room.
“Mr. Mackenzie.” Judge Revere, I saw her name on the desk plaque, greeted me as I stepped forward.
“Yes, your honor.” I stood front and center as if waiting for my life sentence to be handed down.
The judge picked up a large, manila-sealed envelope lying on her desk. She took out a sharp letter opener from a ceramic container and sliced through the closed package, carefully taking out the papers. Her facial expressions displayed nothing as she read over what was written.
Finally, after what felt like hours, the judge’s eyes glanced up to meet mine.
“I’ve read over the paternity testing results, which have been verified by a reputable, national lab. According to this report, Mr. Mackenzie,” Judge Revere waved the papers, “you are the biological father of three-month-old Brooklyn Walsh.”
I stood frozen in place.
I didn’t know what to do.
The only thing that brought me around to my senses was the light sob of my mom freaking out over the facts that had been revealed.
“I understand you have a full football scholarship to the University of Southern California.” The judge’s attention was still focused on me.
“Um, yes, ma’am…I… I mean, yes, your, honor.” My voice crackled as I fought through the internal struggle of the fight or flight syndrome.
I wanted to run.
I wanted to get away from this moment as quickly as possible.
But, I had to stay put. There was nowhere for me to go, Who would be able to save me from this life-changing event?
“You do know you now have financial obligations to this child.”
Stern eyes and words were thrown my way.
“Yes, your, honor.”
“I will give you forty-eight hours to determine how you would like to proceed.” Judge Revere put the papers back in the envelope and placed them in a drawer.
“Um, I’m not sure what you mean.” I had no clue what else they wanted from me. I thought they only wanted to determine if I was the father. I mean, shit, I didn’t have a job, so how was I able to support this baby.
“That means, Mr. Mackenzie, you will have two days to determine if you would like full custody or relinquish all rights to the courts and/or to a suitable family member.” The judge clarified how I could proceed.
Easy answer. I’d be able to tell everyone right now what I wanted.
I don’t want a kid.
I don’t have time for a kid.
Let Brook be with someone who would honestly want her.
“We will resume here in two days.” Judge Revere stood and exited the back door of her chambers.
‘Well, I guess we’re done.’
I looked back at Mom, and she still had a tissue dabbing at her eyes. She glanced up at me and sympathetically shook her head.
Ericka waited until her mother stopped to speak with the two women from the children and family court.
“Told you so.”
She had to rub it in she knew Marissa’s daughter was genetically related to me.
“Doesn’t matter. I’m still going to California.” I didn’t even address her with a look. I walked back to where my mom was waiting for me at the exit.
The story will continue…
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