“I want to establish paternity and take my son to live with me in Europe,” Michael answered firmly.
“Europe, huh?” Susan scoffed. “Living the high life. But you need to understand, the boy is almost thirteen. He’s never seen you, never knew anything about you. And you want to whisk him off to Europe? You need to talk to him first, find out what he wants, who he wants to live with.”
“I doubt anyone would turn down a mansion in London,” Michael sneered. “And yes, I would like to see my son.”
“Alex is sleeping,” Susan replied. “And you still have to prove he’s your son.”
“I will,” Michael nodded and headed for the door. “This isn’t over.”
He left, slamming the door behind him. Susan and Paul looked at each other, bewildered.
“I don’t understand why he was here,” Susan sighed heavily. “He clearly doesn’t want Alex. Why does he want to adopt him?”
“Sue, he’s the father. Maybe his paternal instincts kicked in,” Paul shrugged.
“After all this time, they just suddenly ‘kicked in’?”
“Well, I don’t know.”
“But I do, Paul. He’s lying. I might have believed him, but when he started talking about how much he loved Ellie… He didn’t love her. He used her naivety. And as soon as things got complicated, he abandoned her. We have to fight for our boy. I can’t let that smug pig take Alex from us. I’m responsible to Ellie.”
“Susan, don’t get worked up. Let’s think about this calmly tomorrow. In any case, we’ve gathered almost all the documents.”
Susan nodded, but a sense of dread settled in her heart.
They didn’t notice that while Michael was in the kitchen with them, Alex had peeked out of his room. He had quietly crept closer, seen the guest, and then hidden by the door, hearing everything. When Michael turned to leave, Alex had slipped back into his room. And now, lying under his covers, he was crying silently.
The first time he asked his mom about his dad, he was five. At preschool, for Father’s Day, everyone was drawing pictures for their dads. He had no one to draw for. He didn’t have a grandfather or an uncle either. The teacher suggested he draw a tank for Mr. Henderson, the school security guard. The other kids laughed at him for drawing a picture for a stranger. The teacher sternly told them, “Children, not everyone is as lucky as you. Not everyone has a dad.”
“Everyone has a dad,” a girl named Wendy piped up. “Some of them just leave. They don’t want their kids.”
“Alex is unwanted! Alex is unwanted!” the other kids chanted.
Furious and hurt, Alex had dumped a jar of paint on Wendy’s head. Wendy’s mother had been furious. His own mom had apologized, not knowing the full story. But at home, when Alex, choking on his tears, told her what happened, she hugged him and said, “You did the right thing, honey. She shouldn’t be saying such mean things.”
“Mom, did Dad really leave me?”
“Of course not, sweetheart. He didn’t leave. He died before you were born. He was a hero.”
Ellie had made up the story on the spot, hoping her son would forget. But Alex never forgot. He always told people his dad was a hero who had died in service. Some kids believed him, some didn’t. It didn’t matter to Alex. He knew he had a dad, and he hadn’t been abandoned. But now, it turned out his mom had lied to him. His father was alive, and no hero at all. He really had abandoned him. And now he was back, after his mom was gone.
So this was the traitor? Alex had heard the adults talking about his father being away. Maybe he had a job that kept him away, and he couldn’t come see them? The boy’s imagination painted various scenarios to excuse his father. It was impossible for a parent to just abandon their child. And he had come back for him.
The next morning, Alex woke up with a firm conviction. He wanted to be with his dad. His mom had said he didn’t abandon him. It was just a misunderstanding. Susan and Paul were in the kitchen when Alex walked in.
“Hey, Alex, just in time for breakfast,” Susan smiled. “I made your favorite pancakes.”
“Not hungry,” the boy mumbled, sitting at the table and looking expectantly at the adults.
“What’s wrong, Alex?” Paul asked, concerned. “Is there something you want to ask?”
“Yes,” the boy said. “Why didn’t you call me when my father was here yesterday?”
“You heard?” Susan gasped. “We thought you were asleep.”
“No, I wasn’t. I heard you send him away.”
“Nobody sent him away, Alex,” Susan exclaimed.
“He left on his own, and you didn’t call me,” the boy said bitterly. “He’s my father.”
“Alex, you’re old enough to think this through rationally,” Paul said gently. “He’s never been a part of your life. Now he shows up, making demands. We don’t know him. We need to check things out, understand why he suddenly wants to be in your life.”
“Be in my life?” Alex cried, tears welling up. “He wants to take me with him! Don’t you get it? He’s my dad!”
He ran to his room. Susan and Paul’s attempts to coax him out were useless. Alex lay on his bed all day and refused to go to school. Susan had to call in sick to work to stay home and try to comfort him, but he wouldn’t listen or even look at her.
That evening, Tamara Evans from Family Services showed up. Seeing her, Susan went pale. Why was she here?
“I’m here for the boy,” the woman said. “I have all the necessary documents authorizing me to transfer custody of Alex to his father.”
“But there hasn’t been a court hearing. No paternity test. Who’s to say he’s the father?” Susan tried to argue.
“I wouldn’t advise you to interfere,” the caseworker said threateningly. “Otherwise, there will be a court hearing, but for a different reason.”
“What reason?” Susan asked, bewildered.
“For unlawfully detaining a child. And that, you know, is a serious charge.”
“Who’s detaining him?”
“Excellent, I’m glad you’re not,” Tamara Evans smiled, spotting Alex peeking out from his room. “Alex, do you want to live with your dad?”
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