I shut the door behind us and smiled. “Yeah, come on.”
“Thank you,” she said as she threw her bag on the couch.
I walked behind her and saw her glance around the room.
“Yeah, this real nice. Where my room at?”
I pointed to the door on the opposite side of the hallway. “Right there. I haven’t been in there. Can’t tell you what it look like.”
She continued to look around, and I saw the moment her eyes moved to the cotton swab that sat on the table. They landed on the white box that loudly displayed “DNA Testing Kit” in bold letters.
Her expression shifted. She didn’t seem shocked. It was as if an answer to her question was confirmed. I dropped my head but quickly picked it up. I felt terrible, but I braced myself for a conversation that needed to happen. Yana deserved that much.
“So,” she said softly, “I guess this really is happening.”
I didn’t answer right away. To hear it out loud from my daughter made it feel heavier than any headline from a blog ever could. I walked over and sat on the couch.
With a calm tone, I said, “Yeah. It’s happening.”
Yana plopped down next to me. “Is it yours?” she asked, voice even.
“I don’t know yet,” I admitted. “That’s why the test.”
She nodded, then looked at me. “Mom was trying not to say too much, but . . . I could tell she was upset.”
My chest tightened. “I shouldn’t have kept it from her,” I said quietly. “That part, . . . I messed up. That’s on me.”
Yana tilted her head. “Why didn’t you tell her?”
I swallowed. How could I explain fear to a kid who was supposed to believe I was Superman?
“I thought I was protecting peace,” I said. “But sometimes, . . . you think you protecting people, and really you just choosing what you think is best for them. I didn’t want your mom to hear ‘maybe baby’ and feel embarrassed or hurt before I knew anything for sure.”
Yana’s eyes softened a little.
“So you tried to wait it out,” she finished.
“Yeah,” I admitted. “And I shouldn’t have.”
She nodded again, then shrugged. “It hurt my feelings too. Not because of the baby rumor exactly, but because it felt like y’all was doing that thing again.”
“What thing?” I asked, even though I already felt like I understood.
She sighed. “Like acting normal but not acting normal.”
I tried to keep my face straight, but my throat tightened. “I’m sorry, baby.”
“I know you trying. I’m not mad at you. I just don’t want y’all to stop talking too. It was weird when her and my dad . . .” She paused at the word and corrected herself. “I mean, uh, . . . when her and Juwon stopped talking. It just felt different. I just don’t want to feel like that again. Not with y’all. She seems happier when y’all are talking. Like, I haven’t seen her this happy in a while if I think about it.” Her brows turned down like she had to think about it.
I exhaled slowly. “It’s okay. I’m not offended that you still call him Dad. Why would I be? He was . . .” I paused to correct myself. “Is . . . your dad. He was there before I knew about you and still loves you today. He’s at all your events; he still calls to check on you. He’s a stand-up guy.”
She smiled and gave a small chuckle.
“As far as your mom being happy, I’m happy to hear that. I like when your mom is happy too.”
We stayed there and let the moment settle in before we spoke again. Then, her eyes narrowed.
“Are you okay though? Because you seem like you’re in a bad mood.”
