As I close the journal, I hear the front door open, and Zeke steps into the entryway, looking tired. Relief washes over me the moment I see him. He's been my rock these past three weeks while we wait for the results, the one steady thing in all this chaos. His wound healed quickly and without complications, though he will always have a small scar from the bullet that will forever remind us of that night. We've tried hard to put it all behind us, but it always stays in the back of our minds as a warning.
It feels better when he's here with me. When he's gone, the house feels too quiet, too big, too aware. I hate being alone here. Not only am I scared, but I also feel isolated. I jump off the couch and rush to greet him. After he hangs his jacket on the hook, I wrap my arms around his middle from behind and rest my cheek against his back. His warmth grounds me.
"I missed you," I say softly.
"Me too, Rocky," he replies as he covers my clasped hands with his own. "But I was only gone a few hours."
"I know," I say, releasing him and stepping back.
"How about we order pizza tonight and have a movie night?" He asks as he turns to face me.
"Yes," I say, "it sounds perfect. While you're getting washed up and changed, I'll order it." I pick up my phone, but a loud knock at the door interrupts me. The sound echoes strangely through the hallway. It was sharper than usual. As I open the door, our mailman stands there holding a certified letter.
"Hello, I have a certified letter for Roxanne Sleighton. Is she available to sign for it?" He asks happily. His smile is infectious.
Clearing my throat and giving a small smile of my own, I reply, "Yes, I am she. He quickly hands me the letter and points out where to sign. After he hands me the envelope, he says goodbye and leaves.
I hold the envelope in my hands carefully as if it's a bomb that can go off at any moment. All I can do is stare at it because it could give me the answers I want or destroy every hope I have of finding my family. The letter is from Draper Labs and contains the results of our DNA test. I flip the letter over and slide my finger under the flap, carefully tearing it open. Zeke walks down the stairs and sees the letter in my hand.
"Whatcha holding there, Rocky?" he asks curiously, wondering about what contents may be inside.
"It's from the lab. I'm pretty sure it's the DNA results." I quickly open the envelope, pull out the papers, and scan them three times. Not sure if I'm reading them right. My heart is pounding, and I'm speechless. I hand them to Zeke. He looks at the results and then back at me.
"Rocky, according to the results, there is a 99.99% chance that Andrew Dawson is your biological father," he says as he shifts his gaze towards me, trying to read my reaction. The moment our eyes meet, everything inside me breaks. Tears spill down my cheeks. They're happy tears. Overwhelming tears. My crying freaks Zeke out. He rushes toward me and wraps his strong arms around me, enveloping me in his warm embrace, making me feel safe. He lifts me up, and I instinctively slide my legs around his waist as he carries me to the living room. He sits holding me tightly while I cry into his shoulder. His hands rub slow circles on my back, soothing me.
"Talk to me, baby; what are you feeling?" He whispers in my ear.
I look into his eyes, struggling to breathe through the flood of emotions. I was feeling everything from happiness to sadness, anger, relief, and grief. All tangled together. Finally, my biological father is no longer a mystery. I've found him; this revelation brought both happiness and sadness. Mostly anger because my father had been taken away from me before I was even born.
My anger is not directed at my mom; she was a scared teenager trying to keep me safe, and she did for years. My anger is directed at whoever caused the fear, the danger, and the lies. The truth of the DNA test hits me hard. This is my family's home. This house didn't call to me by accident. It called to me because I belong here; it's my birthright.
I grab Zeke's face between my hands. "This is my family," I tell him. "The Catalano's were my family." I smile brightly at him, happy. He smiles back with soft eyes that are full of pride.
"Are you going to call Andrew and see if he got his results in the mail yet?" he asks as I release his face.
"Oh yeah. I almost forgot; I was so excited." I say excitedly. I call Andy, and he answers immediately.
"Hello," he says, his voice thick with emotion.
"Did you get the results from the DNA lab?" I ask hopefully.
"Yes, can I come see you tonight? I just, I just want to talk and hug you?' he replies in a low voice.
"Yes, of course," I tell him as the nerves flutter in my stomach. Now that we know the truth, too many questions run through my mind. I wonder if he'll like me. Maybe he won't want me in his life, or his wife won't. Am I ready for this? Can I handle if he rejects me?
"We'll be there shortly," he says before hanging up. I feel a sense of accomplishment since we've solved a small piece of the puzzle. But a heavy burden still weighs on my shoulders; I still need to learn more about my mom's family's fate. Zeke is waiting for me in the living room.
"I ordered the pizza," he says. "Let's relax and watch a movie until everyone gets here!"
"Sounds good. Andy and his wife are on their way to talk about the DNA results and where we go from here."
"That's good," he says as he nods his head. "Then maybe he can fill in some of the blanks about your mom." he gets up and starts to walk away, but I grab his hand and tug him back to me.
"Please sit with me," I say softly. "I want to watch a movie with you until they get here. Will you stay with me while I talk to them, too?" He chuckles and leans down as he kisses me gently. Then pulls me into his side. His warmth settles into me, calming my nerves.
The pizza comes a few minutes before we hear another car pull into the driveway. Butterflies form in my stomach because I'm sure it's my dad and his wife. My dad- I never thought I would ever say that. It sounds foreign to me. I jump up from the couch and practically sprint to the front door. When I yank open the door, my heart drops. I'm expecting to see Andy and Sharon, but I am immediately let down. The sheriff is standing there instead.
"Oh no! He's my actual grandfather!" was the first thought that comes to my mind when I see him standing on my porch. I force my features into neutrality despite the loathing twisting in my gut.
"What do I owe this visit, Sheriff?" I ask.
"Watch your tone, little girl!" He spits out. Obviously, niceties are out the window.
"You like to say that a lot to me, huh?" I ask him sarcastically. "Ok, let me phrase it another way. What do you want?" I glare at him as coldly as I can.
"Where's the paperwork you owe me? I've been nice and not pushed the subject because your fella was hurt," he says, pausing and looking past me into the house. "But my kindness has run its course. Give me the paperwork now, Miss Sleighton. Last time, I'm asking nicely."
"I don't think so, Sheriff. I don't have any paperwork." I try to keep my voice steady, but my whole body feels like it's shaking with pure fear or adrenaline. I'm not sure which. "Do you have a warrant? Pretty sure you need one to search my house or property."
We didn't hear the other car pull in as we were arguing. From behind the sheriff, we hear Andy's voice saying, "Yeah, old man. Do you have a warrant?" The sheriff flips around so fast I feared he'd get whiplash.
"Andrew, what are you doing here on this property?" He asks him in a gentler voice.
"Roxanne invited me because we have some things to talk over, but really, it's none of your business." I'm taken aback by how sternly he was talking to his father. There is no doubt that there's a strain in their father-son relationship.
"Andrew, I'm just worried for your son," he says. "I know how much you grieved when the Catalano girl came up missing. I don't want her dragging up painful memories for you."
"Sure, Father, I'm sure that's the story you keep telling everyone", but he must think the sheriff had other motives. "You just want some documents you think she has because they might shine a bad light on you."
"Son, come home and see your mother with me. Leave this crazy bitch alone. You and your wife don't need this headache." The sheriff is trying his hardest to persuade him to leave. Andrew's face became angry when the sheriff calls me a not-so-nice name.
Andy's face darkens. "Do me a favor, Father, don't call my daughter a bitch and tell Mom I won't be able to visit her until she is done with you," he yells. "Better yet, quit picking on young women, especially your own granddaughter." The expression on the sheriff's face was one of complete shock; his eyes widen, as the color drains from his face. He looks back and forth between me and his son.
"Your daughter! There's no way. She's tricking you, and you believe her. How stupid are you, son?" The sheriff yells.
"We had a DNA test done. I have proof I'm her father." Sharon places a calming hand on Andy's arm. They shove past the sheriff, grab my arm, and walk into the house, slamming and locking the door behind us.
Zeke is waiting for us in the entryway: tense and ready. He must have heard me fighting with the sheriff and was going to come out until he saw my father show up. My nerves are still reeling from the confrontation with Sheriff Dawson. Andy must have noticed because he walks up and lays his hands gently on my shoulders, turning me towards him.
"Are you okay, sweetheart?" He asks, his voice full of concern. The only thing I was able to do was nod. I'm grateful he pulled into the driveway when he did, but I am also irritated that he told the sheriff I was his granddaughter.
"Did you see his face when you told him I was his granddaughter? Bet that ruined his night. He already hates me." I'm hoping he doesn't use the information against me.
"I just wanted him to leave you alone. Besides, I've always wondered if he had something to do with your mom and her family's disappearance. I don't trust him." He replies with a shrug of his shoulder. "He needs to know I will not sit around and let him mistreat you."
"I know he's your father," I say, "but I don't want anything to do with him. Not now or ever. He's not a nice person. He likes to intimidate people. I'm sorry." It was hard to believe the sheriff was my grandfather; he was completely different from my father. Where Andy was sincere and kind, the sheriff was malicious and dangerous.
"I completely understand, kid; I'm sorry he's an ass," he says apologetically.