The True Story Of How I Met Your Daddy

My hand shakes as I write this, but I have to get it down. It's the last thing I'll be doing in this life. I want you to know who your real parents are, and the real story behind them. I love you, my baby boy.

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5. Reuniting

 

"He's so adorable! When was he born?" My closest friend Megan asks, as Reuben-Harlem holds onto her finger with his tiny hand. He's only about two weeks old now, and the best thing that's ever happened to me.

"3:30pm, on the 3rd of June. My sister's done his star chart already."

My sister got into crystal healing, psycic powers and the zodiac signs about a month before Reuben-Harlem arrived. She spent about $150 on all these tarot cards, books on star signs, a huge sheet of white plywood and about six cans of blue and gold paint. Reuben-Harlem's star chart's hanging up above his cradle now, and I still can't make heads or tails of it.

"Aww, it's so sweet of her. He really looks like his father, doesn't he." Megan says, as he slips off to sleep in my arms. I told Megan about Reuben-Harlem's father soon after I realised I was pregnant, and she's obsessive over him. I bet she wishes that he was the father of her child.

"Especially the eyes. They're the spitting image."

"When are you going to tell him?" Megan asked, slipping her finger out of Reuben-Harlem's grasp.

"I'm not sure how I'll be able to. I mean, you can't exactly go up to him in the street and say "Remember that night 9 months ago? Well you got me pregnant, and you have a son. His name's Reuben-Harlem Geldburn." to a superstar, can you? He'd freak out, wouldn't he?" I replied, holding Reuben-Harlem a bit closer to me.

"Well you'd better tell him quickly. Or he might have completely forgotten about you. Then that would be a complete disaster." Megan said.

"Disaster is right. I have to tell him as quickly as possible." I look down at Reuben-Harlem and decide it must be now. "Megan, can you look after Reuben-Harlem for me for an hour or two? Only, I need to speak to his father." I slowly passed Reuben-Harlem over into Megan's arms, and stood up off the sofa. I was determined to let the father know about his son.

"Yeah sure, I can do that. Make sure you knock him dead though. You know how far showing a bit of leg can get you." Megan reminded me.

"Not too much though. I'm a mother now. Maybe that 50's skirt will do though." I call from mine and the baby's room. I managed to drag out my skirt from the 50's, alongside my pure-white blouse and highest heels. They're 6 inches high and neon pink, so they'll knock him dead. I change into them, and prepare to meet him.

"Nice. Just shorten the skirt a bit, and you're good to go." Megan gently rocked my son as I hoisted my waistband up a bit. Feeling confident, I went out the door and prepared to meet him again.

 

I stood outside the gates, pressing the button on the intercom. Please let this go well.

"Hey, I'm glad you showed up." Came a voice crackling through the speaker. My heart skipped several beats; did he recognise me?

"Unfortunately, I can't be with you right this moment. Please state your name and business after the tone, and I'll get back to you as soon as possible." The tone came, and my heart sank. It was just a recording. Feeling discouraged, I leant against the cool iron gate and looked in. I couldn't see much, but I bet there's a back way in. He's got to hear me out at least.

 

Ten minutes, a lot of climbing, and nearly breaking off one of my heels later, I was in over the back wall. My legs were aching from the rough landing, but I was still good to go. I crossed through the huge grounds, hoping I would be able to be noticed by the right person. Making my way over to the pool, I sat on one of the sun loungers and waited.

It took ages. I nearly froze out there; it was icy. I was about to give up, when I saw a shadow move to the edge of the window, and drag the curtain across the window. They got to about halfway, when I saw them jump, and unlock the balcony door.

"How the hell did you get in here?" He asked. It was the right person, thankfully.

"I tried the intercom, but it told me to leave a message. As it was urgent, I climbed over the back wall." I explained, feeling awkward. "Erm, surprise!" I added, feeling myself going red.

"Well I am surprised. What's the message anyway?" He called down from the balcony. "Hold on two seconds, and I'll be right down." He turned, and I saw him head out of the room. He came outside, and before too long, he was there.

"Well, what is it?" He asked, a single spark right behind his deep brown eyes. I've definitely got the right person.

"Do you remember being in a nightclub about 9 months ago, when a drunken girl fell into you?" I asked. After all, you can't just say "You're a father" straight away.

"Vaguely. I remember she was tall, and slim. With short black hair tied in a ponytail. She was really pretty too." He paused for a second, looking me up and down. The spark of recognition glowed brightly behind his eyes. "It's you. You were that girl in the club. Wow, I nearly forgot. So anyway, what's going on with you?" He looked ecstatic. All was definitely going well.

"Well, erm. I've got good news for you." I blushed. How he reacted to this, was the ultimate tipping point.

"Well come on then, what's the news?"

"Erm, Happy Fathers Day. You've, erm, got a son." I stammered.

I might have expected him to have said something like "That's great news" or, worst case scenario, "I don't want anything to do with it.". Certainly not what he said next.

"You're a liar. All I did was buy you a drink or two, and I kissed you. That's it. I'm not a father." The tone of his voice changed dramatically. Now there was an edge of hatred there.

"But I swear, you're a father. You have to believe me." I could feel tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. How could he not remember?

"Where's a photo then? Or let me see the child. If he looks a thing like me, which I doubt, then I'll believe you." He asked.

He had me there. I didn't have any photos of Braden-Harlem at all. I just stood there, unsure of what to say next.

"That's what I thought. Now get out, or I'll call security." The threatening tone in his voice chilled me to the bone,

"Fine, I'll go. But you'd better lawyer up. This is going straight to the courts, and you will be seeing me again." I left that threat hanging in the air, before turning, and scrambling back over the back wall.

 

The minute I got home, I saw Megan asleep on the sofa, with Braden-Harlem in his moses basket by her side. I must have been gone a lot longer than I thought. All for nothing. Quickly, I picked up my Polaroid camera, and took a snapshot of Braden-Harlem. As it came out, I picked up a copy of the yellow pages, and flicked through it until I found the number I was looking for.

"Hello, is that the CIA? Can you put me through to DNA and Paternity Testing please? I have to prove to someone that they're a father."

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