The Other Side of Divine (21 page)

—Ezra 4:18

 

 

 

I
t had been a week and Paris was looking for the DNA results to arrive by mail (as she'd checked off) no later than May 24. So after two days of it not being there, she called to follow up on it.

It took a few transferrings of her calls, but she finally reached someone who could help her. Yes, it had indeed been mailed, and should have arrived on Monday as their turnaround had been two days after having received her package. A woman named Marie reminded her that the outside of the envelope would be plain as to be discreet and wouldn't contain any identifying words to tie it back to their company, just in case she'd received it and mistakenly trashed it as junk mail.

Paris thought back, but there hadn't been anything that had come resembling what the woman was describing. Still, she decided since she hadn't thrown out any junk mail yet, she would definitely go back and check. She asked Marie if she could be given the information over the phone now and was told because she'd originally checked for mail only and had specifically requested it be disclosed that way, she
could
request it differently but there were safety measures she'd have to go through in order to do that.

“If you'd like to give it a few more days and then if it doesn't arrive, we'll be happy to proceed with the required paperwork to disclose the information in a different manner than originally selected,” Marie said.

At first Paris was put out at possibly having to jump through hoops to get the results she'd paid for. But when she calmed down and thought it through, she could see where that was a necessary level of protection for someone who might try to deviously circumvent the process. She would give it another week, and if it hadn't arrived by then, she'd feel confident something had happened and initiate necessary steps to receive the results another way.

Tuesday, the following week, she had an appointment for her six weeks' checkup. It was hard to believe Braylen was already six weeks old. He was growing up so fast. Paris's mother was supposed to come over and watch Braylen while she went to the doctor, but her mother woke up with a sore throat and a slight fever. Paris told her not to worry, she had another alternative, and asked her mother to take care of herself and get well soon.

Paris called Andrew, but he couldn't get away. So she decided she'd just take Braylen with her. The doorbell rang just as she was rushing to get him ready.

“Paula? What are you doing here?” Paris asked her mother-in-law as she held Braylen securely against her shoulder, bouncing him to keep him quiet as she spoke.

“I hear you're in need of a babysitter for a few hours. I'm here to offer my services,” Paula said.

“Andrew called you?” Paris said. “He shouldn't have bothered you.”

“Why not? You need someone to watch my grandbaby while you go to the doctor for your checkup, and I was free to come over.” Paula reached over and lovingly took Braylen from Paris. “Look at Grandma's big boy. Look at you,” she said to Braylen. “Such a big boy! Such a big boy! Yes, you are!”

“Are you sure about this?”

“Of course, I'm sure. You just go on and don't worry about me and Braylen. We're going to have so much fun. Aren't we, Braylen? Aren't we?” She held him up in the air and smiled as she twisted his body from side to side. He smiled. “Look a' there,” she said to Paris. “He just smiled at me.”

“I told you that he smiles, but you didn't believe me. You said it was gas.” Paris closed the door.

“Okay, Paris.” Paula grinned.

“I'm running late, so I'm really glad you came. It's not as easy as it looks trying to get yourself ready and a baby, too. And I didn't even get to the putting him in the car seat part and having to take him out when I arrive. You're a lifesaver. I truly appreciate this. I just need to run and get my purse, and I'll be out of here.”

Paris trotted up the stairs and just as quickly returned with her purse on her shoulder. “I'll be back as soon as I'm done!” she yelled as she disappeared to the garage.

Paula walked around the den with Braylen, singing several rounds of “Old MacDonald Had a Farm.” She was on the “quack, quack” part when the doorbell rang. “Now who do you think that could be?” Paula said as she and Braylen went to answer the door.

“I have a package for you,” the postwoman said. “It appears one of our machines mangled the original envelope so we had to put it in this one. It was apparently already late and a trace had been placed on it stating it was urgent. So I was asked to personally deliver it to this address.”

Paula took the envelope. “Thanks. I'll be sure and tell them. I'm grandma here babysitting my new grandbaby.”

“Oh, he's a cutie,” the postwoman said, leaning in closer to Braylen and smiling. “Who does he favor? His mother or his father?”

“Thank you. I suppose if I was pressed, I'd say he
sort
of favors his father's father a little. They're closer to the same skin tone and maybe have a similar nose,” Paula said, looking down at Braylen and seeing possible hints of Andrew's father, who'd left them high and dry back when Andrew was a mere baby.

“Well, you two have a good day.”

“Same to you,” Paula said, baby in her arm while holding the white envelope addressed to Holyfield in her other hand.

Three hours later, Paula heard the garage door rise and then go back down.

“That must be your mother coming back,” Paula said, standing up with Braylen and going into the kitchen to greet Paris.

The door from the garage to the kitchen opened and closed. Andrew strolled in with his briefcase in hand.

“Hi, Mom.” Andrew leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. “Hi, there, Braylen. How's daddy's little man? Did you have fun with Grandma today? Did you?” Andrew set his briefcase on the floor, carefully took Braylen from his mother, and placed him on his shoulder. “Paris's car isn't in the garage. Did she go somewhere after she came back from the doctor's or has she not gotten back yet?”

“She hasn't gotten back yet.”

“How long has she been gone?”

“I guess three . . . maybe four hours, but who's counting? You know how it can be with doctor visits. And when it's a doctor who's on call to deliver babies at any moment, a doctor's visit can be a true nightmare. You may be there in the waiting room, and the doctor either has to cancel or postpone your appointment to take care of a patient who's not planning on waiting for the next available time slot on schedule. I wouldn't worry too much, though. I'm just glad you called me to come over and take care of little Braylen. I'd hate for him to have had to be there all this time.”

“Well, I thank you for being there when I called and willingly agreeing to come do this.” Andrew glanced down at a now sleeping Braylen. “He's out like a light.”

“Yeah, I suppose I wore the little fellow out. He'll probably sleep a couple of hours.”

“I'm going to go lay him down.” Andrew walked slowly and carefully and went and put Braylen in his crib.

When Andrew came back downstairs (minus his suit coat now), his mother had her purse on her shoulder and was standing at the front door. “Well, I'm out of here, unless you have somewhere you need to go, in which case, I can stay longer.”

“Oh, no. I'm good. I'm home for the rest of the day. Do you know if Paris got the mail before she left?”

“I don't. But, there was a special package brought to the door.” Paula went and got it and handed it to him. “A postwoman—I love saying that—said their equipment chewed up the original envelope so they had to put it in a new one.”

He turned the large white envelope over in his hand. “Is that why there's no return address information on the outside envelope?”

“That's what I got from her. I think it was nice of them though to send someone out special to deliver it. Whenever something like that has ever happened with
my
mail, they just stick it in the mailbox with a stamped message that the original enveloped encountered ‘machine' problems. I suppose that's the difference between living in a nice neighborhood and where we came from: They send a postal worker to bring one piece of mail they feel might be important when they mess up.” Paula grabbed Andrew by his collar and pulled him down toward her, giving him a quick peck on the cheek, interrupting him just as he was peeling back the gummed flap of the envelope.

Standing upright now, he stopped and looked hard at the information he'd pulled out of the envelope. “Mom, hold up a second.”

Paula frowned, tilting her head trying to see. “What is it?”

Andrew was also frowning. “This.” He was scanning the chewed-up envelope that had no identifying relevant return address markers on the outside of the original envelope. But because part of the envelope was ripped away at the top, it exposed the letterhead to the contents inside the mangled envelope.

“What about it?”

“First off, this isn't addressed to me. It's addressed to Paris.”

Paula shrugged. “I didn't know. It just had Holyfield on the outside. So you can give it to her when she gets here and tell her what the postwoman said.”

“Are you sure a postal worker brought this? This isn't some kind of joke or something is it?” Andrew asked.

“Well, she was wearing an official post-office-looking shirt. However, I didn't ask her for any ID or anything. And she
was
driving a compact white car that looks like the ones I've seen some postal workers drive, when they're not delivering neighborhood mail, that is.” Paula moved in closer. “What is it?”

“A part of the envelope was torn off and is exposing the company where it seems to have come from.”

She frowned. “And—?”

“And it appears to have come from, of all places, a DNA company.”

“Well, maybe Paris is doing some research on her roots or something. You know, like that professor Henry Louis Gates did on PBS with famous people like Oprah and those others. A lot of people are doing that these days, you know.”

Andrew shook his head. “She's never said anything about wanting to do that nor shown any interest. Mom, months ago, you brought up the idea that the baby Paris was carrying might not be mine. I scoffed at that. But truthfully, on that same day you also said the baby was a boy and that turned out to be true.”

Paula hunched her shoulders. “Well, I had a fifty-fifty shot of being right.”

“That's true. But you also said he would weigh seven pounds eight ounces. Now that's not something one can predict so accurately, but you were right on the money,” Andrew said.

“It was a number that just popped up in my head.” Paula sighed. “Listen, Drew. I know I was the one who raised the question about Paris and the baby, but—”

“Do you think Braylen looks like he's my child?”

“Andrew, I know you're upset right now—”

“You're absolutely right, I'm upset right now! I wasn't supposed to see this package at all. This was addressed to Paris Holyfield. Do you really believe she was intending to share whatever is in here with me?” Andrew said.

“I don't know. I suppose you'll just have to ask her yourself?”

“Ask me what?” Paris said, walking toward Andrew.

“You're home. I didn't hear the garage door go up or come down. Why didn't you bring your car into the garage?” Andrew asked Paris.

Paris tilted her head slightly. “What?”

“I said why did you
not
drive your car into the garage?”

She shrugged. “It's no big deal, Andrew. I was merely in a hurry to get in the house to see the baby, that's all.”

“So you parked your car outside and came in through the side door?” Andrew asked with a frown. He shook his head. “That doesn't make any sense.”

“I didn't think it would be a big deal, Andrew. In fact, I didn't even know you were home. Is there something wrong?” She looked at Paula. “Is Braylen okay? Did something happen while I was gone? The doctor got called away to deliver a baby and they gave us the option of either rescheduling or staying an hour or two longer. I figured since I was already there and you'd been so kind as to come over and help me out, I'd do better to just stay and see if he'd be back soon as he expected he would.”

“Braylen's fine. He's sleeping. And it wasn't a problem at all,” Paula said. “In fact, I was prepared to stay as long as I was needed.”

Paris looked at her husband. “So why are you upset, Andrew?”

“I'm upset because I'm trying to figure out what
this
is all about.” He held the mangled envelope out to Paris and shook it toward her.

Paris took it. Her hand visibly began to shake as she saw the DNA return info from the now exposed letterhead.

“What is this?” She tried to laugh it off. “It's likely nothing, probably just junk mail some company sent trying to get me to do something like search for my roots.”

“Sure, Paris,” Andrew said. “Then why don't you open it.”

“Okay,” Paris said. “I'll do
just
that. But not right now. Right now, I'm going to check on my son.”

“He's asleep right now. And my mother's here. If he wakes up, I'm sure she'll be happy to get him for us. So why don't you open that now, and if it's junk mail, we can deep-six it. Go on, Paris. It's already close to being opened. Rip off the rest of the envelope and let's see what it is.”