B Negative by Vicki Grant Page A

There are flowers and balloons and cards everywhere. Dad is sitting bolt upright in a chair with his eyes closed and his mouth open.
    I shift in the bed. I see someone’s feet on the floor. I recognize them immediately. It’s the tan. Anthony’s asleep too.
    Or maybe he’s not. This game we used to play when he first moved in with Mom comes back to me. He’d be holding a bag of candies. He’d pretend to fall asleep and I’d sneak up to steal them. I’d just get my little hand on the bag—then he’d jump up screaming. He’d chase me all around the house until he caught me, but by then he’d be too “tired” to eat the candies himself. He’d end up giving them to me.
    Anthony scratches his arm in his sleep, and another memory materializes in my head. I’m sitting on his lap. He’s holding down the chords so I can strum the strings. It hits me that the person lying on the floor now is the same person who did that then. I hadn’t made that connection before.
    I touch Tara’s arm and she jumps awake.
    I say, “I’m thirsty.” Her eyes smile as if I just told her I won the lottery. She runs out into the hall.
    Dad and Anthony are both up in a second and crowding around the bed. They’re smiling but they both look like they’re not sure they’re allowed to.
    In a minute, Tara’s back with the nurse.
    â€œWhich one of you is the father?” she says.
    Dad and Anthony both say, “I am.”

Chapter Twenty - Two
    When I get out of the hospital, Mom tries to talk to me about it. She stands in the kitchen doorway, wringing her hands and blinking back tears.
    â€œI didn’t know,” she says. “I mean, I didn’t know for sure. It could have been either of them.”
    Just the way she holds her shoulders, I can see how ashamed she is.
    â€œI didn’t know what to do. I knew how much your father—I mean, John— needed me, and I knew how much he loved you.”
    Her words come out one at a time, as if they’re ashamed too.
    â€œSo I tried to make it work. But John and I really weren’t suited for each other…You can see that, Paddy, can’t you? We split up for a while, and then Anthony came back to town and, well, that was that. I loved Anthony. I wanted to be with him. I wanted to have a husband who was here and talked to me and was interested in the same type of things I was.”
    I promised myself in the hospital I wasn’t going to get mad. I was just going to listen. I was just going to try and understand.
    â€œWhen did you know he was my father?”
    â€œI didn’t. Not really. As you got older and taller, I started to wonder. But I just put it out of my mind.”
    Okay. I sort of understand doing that. “But how could you let him pay for me all those years? It doesn’t seem fair.”
    â€œWhat else could I do? I couldn’t turn down child support payments. John’s a proud man. He’d never have let me do it unless I told him why— and that would have broken his heart.”
    She covers her face with her hands, but when she looks up she’s almost pulled herself together.
    â€œMaybe I was a coward. I don’t know. But I was right about how much he loves you.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know how he managed to do it, but he got you off that boat and to the hospital all by himself. He stayed there every night and cried like a baby until you were better.
    â€œHe loves you,” she says again. “And you know what else? Anthony does too. I know you don’t see eye to eye these days. But you forget. You did get along when you were little. He read to you. He goofed around with you. He taught you to play guitar. He tried his best. And you know he had a hard act to follow trying to compete with…”
    She stops and figures out what to say.
    â€œâ€¦with your dad. John’s always going to be your