He looks me in the eye, and I’m in no way prepared to hear what comes out of his mouth. “I’m Kira’s father.”
What? I don’t know if I’m thinking the word, or if I said it out loud, but it’s echoing inside my skull. He was right, I need to sit down. I take a seat on the couch next to him, and my head drops into my hands. This cannot be happening. “Please tell me this is a cruel joke,” I say from behind my hands.
“I’m sorry, Seamus. I knew Miranda would never tell you, but I felt you had the right to know. And as I said before, I need to make this right.”
I huff out a disgusted laugh. “Right? Right? How in the hell are you going to make this right? Kira is my daughter. I love that little girl with everything in me.” Tears are blotting my eyes as my thoughts race, and this conversation takes a nosedive into an abyss.
“I know you do. And you’re correct, she is your daughter. I may be responsible for half of her genetic make-up, but you are her father and always have been.” He reaches into his briefcase and pulls out a stack of papers. “I know that your name is already on her birth certificate, but there was a test done that established paternity. I would like to complete this official adoption paperwork, just in case Miranda ever tries to take her away from you. Miranda can be quite conniving, and I couldn’t live with myself knowing I could’ve done something to protect Kira and didn’t. I want to leave knowing she’s yours, once and for all.”
I don’t know whether that was a callous or a considerate thing for him to do. I’m still talking into my hands. “How long have you known? How long has Miranda known?”
“We’ve both known since she discovered she was pregnant. The paternity test was done at birth.” He sounds truly apologetic.
“What the fuck?” I’m whispering. I’m talking to me. I’m talking to him. I’m talking to Miranda, even though she’s not here. I’m talking to a God I’m not sure I believe in because he wouldn’t let shit like this happen. Loren leaves me to wallow in my shock induced silence for several minutes. When I finally look at him, I ask him point blank, “What do you want? You must want something, what is it?”
“I want to die with a clear conscience. I’ve done so many things I regret. So many things I can’t change. So many things I can’t make right. This is one that I can. Kira deserves to be yours in every way possible. You are her father and a far better man than I. I never intended to bring a child into this world, Seamus, but she’s a beautiful child, and that is solely thanks to your hand in raising her. I want you to finish that job unhindered.”
So many questions, I have so many questions, but my mind can’t put the words together properly to articulate them. “Do you want Kira to know about you?”
He shakes his head. “No. She loves you. Not that her knowing about me would change that, but I don’t want anything to complicate your relationship with her.”
I look at the papers on the table. “So, I sign these, and you walk away, and we never hear from you again?” I ask.
He nods and the look in his eyes is sincere, a father talking to a father. “Yes.”
“What if Kira finds out someday? Miranda has a big mouth. What if she wants to get to know you? Or what if there’s a health issue and we need information from you?”
“You or Kira can always contact me if that sort of need arises. But, if the need never arises, I would prefer she never know.”
I want to call him a deadbeat father, because who does this? Who lets someone else raise their child and doesn’t get involved? But then I think about the kids I’ve counseled over the years; the kids who had parents who didn’t want them or mistreated them; or the kids who were raised by guardians other than their parents who loved them fiercely and guided them into adulthood successfully and gracefully. Parenthood isn’t genetic, it’s about commitment and love. Period. I look him in the eye before I sign the papers. “Kira’s always been mine in my heart. This paperwork doesn’t change that.”
He nods. “I know that, Seamus. And thank you.”
“I’d like to have my lawyer review these before I sign them.” I’m never signing anything again without my lawyer’s blessing.
“I expected that you would. Overnight them to my office when the review is complete.”
“I’ll have them back to you in a few days if he’s satisfied, or call with questions if he’s not.”
“Of course, I’m always available by cell phone. My number is in the documents.”
“Thank you.”
We shake hands.
And he leaves.