Happenstance
Page 18He asked me to drive, and five hours after I left work, I pulled into Gina’s driveway. There were two police cars and another car, dark blue with the Oklahoma Department of Human Services logo on the driver and passenger doors.
“Oh my God,” I said. I turned to Weston. “I don’t know what this is about, but you have to go.”
He shook his head. “No way. We’re getting through everything together now, remember?”
Hot tears burned my eyes. “I appreciate that. I really do, but this is humiliating. I don’t want you to hear whatever they have to say.”
“What are they going to say?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t want you to hear it.”
Weston hesitated, and then grabbed my hand gently. “Does she hit you?” I shook my head, and Weston sighed with relief. “When are you going to learn that I don’t judge you, Erin? I love everything about you. I always have.” When I didn’t respond, he squeezed my hand. “Let me come with you. Please?”
I nodded and turned off the engine. We both walked to my house, hand in hand. When we walked in, Gina was sitting on the couch, her expression blank. Two police officers were standing to the side, and a woman from DHS was sitting next to her. She smiled at me.
“Hi, Erin. My name is Kay Rains. I’m from the Department of Human Services. We’ve come because of certain circumstances regarding the death of Erin Alderman.”
“Okay . . .” I said, completely confused. Did they think her death had something to do with me?
She smiled, noticing my nervousness. “It’s okay, Erin. You’re not in any trouble.”
Kay nodded. “We didn’t mean to frighten you. It’s just procedure. We need you to come to the hospital with us. There is some confusion.”
I frowned. “With the Erins? What does that have to do with me?”
Kay stood. “An autopsy was requested for Erin Alderman. The results were returned last night, and the parents have questions. If we could just get a blood sample from you, we can get all of this cleared up.”
“A blood sample? You still haven’t said what this has to do with Erin,” Weston said.
Kay sighed. “The results have shown that Erin Alderman is not the biological child of Sam and Julianne Alderman. Erin Masterson’s results are normal. You’re the only female baby that was born at Blackwell Hospital on September fourth. In fact, you’re the only baby that was born, besides the girls that passed away, within three days of your birthdays.”
“Are you saying that you think Erin Alderman is Gina Easter’s daughter, and Erin is . . . Sam and Julianne’s?” Weston said. We both gasped when he finished his last word.
Kay touched Gina’s knee, even though she wasn’t visibly upset. “Unfortunately, that is what we suspect.”
Weston and I looked at each other, both of our mouths hanging open.
“I’ll . . . uh . . . I’ll drive you.”
I nodded.
Gina nodded, and we all left her alone in the living room.
My shoes crunched against the gravel as we walked to Weston’s truck. He opened the door and picked me up, sitting me in the passenger seat without effort. He looked straight into my eyes.
“Is this for real?” he asked.
I shook my head, unable to speak.
Weston got behind the wheel, and followed the DHS car and the two police cruisers to the hospital. We were escorted to the lab, and then sat in the waiting room. Weston held my hand. I stared at the white tile floor, unable to speak, or even think. My brain felt stuck, as if it wouldn’t allow me to even explore the possibility of what all this meant.
“Erin Easter,” the tech said. I stood up, and Weston stood up with me.
“Just her, please,” Kay said.
I nodded to Weston and he sat.
The tech led me through the door into a small room with cabinets and a counter top. He gathered a long rubber strap and clear tubes on a silver tray next to me. I looked away, letting him stab me with the needle, feeling him move just slightly as he switched out the tubes. He extracted the needle, placed a cotton swab on the puncture site, and taped it down with a hot pink, sticky material that looked like a piece of ace bandage.
I stepped out to find Weston standing in the waiting room, between Kay and the police officers. “What now?” I asked.
“Oh. I don’t have a . . .”
Weston took the card, looked at the number, and then tapped his phone. “I’ve got it,” he said. He tapped his phone again and waited. Kay’s phone rang, and she dug it from her purse and looked down. “That’s me,” Weston said. “You can reach her at this number.”
Kay and the officers walked in front of us as we headed down the hall toward the parking lot. They backed out before we buckled our seat belts.
“Do you . . . do you think it’s possible? That Gina’s not my . . .” Just saying the words took my breath away, and my mind shut down again. It wouldn’t let me process the possibility.
Weston intertwined his fingers with mine. I don’t know how my luck changed so dramatically, but this had to be an apology straight from God. If Weston hadn’t been sitting next to me, holding my hand with that look of reassurance, I might have broken down.
I think you’re coming home with me, that’s what I think. We’re going to put on sweats, eat junk food, and watch as many movies on demand as we can fit into one night.
My lips curled up. That sounded a lot like what we’d been doing all Spring Break, and that was exactly what I needed. My smile faded. “Should I go home? Talk to Gina?”
“Do you want to?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think anything good will come out of it. So I guess not.”
Weston turned south and drove down Thirteenth Street, in the direction of his house. I had spent most of my time the last nine days either at the Dairy Queen or Weston’s. Gina hadn’t even asked any questions or spoken to me at all. Not that I was complaining. Spring Break had been the best week of my life, and the thought had crossed my mind more than once that I wouldn’t mind if things stayed that way forever.