Miss Julia Stands Her Ground (28 page)

We called Binkie the very next morning, and she explained the ins and outs of DNA testing and what laboratory to contact and how to collect and send off the samples. Would you believe you can get everything you need through the mail? As long as you have a credit card, it's just like ordering from Neiman Marcus.

Then there was the problem of getting a DNA sample from Little Lloyd. We couldn't just ask him for it, because we'd been bending over backward to keep him from knowing he had an identity crisis. I certainly didn't want him to find it out at this late date. And I couldn't take him to a doctor to get it, because we'd have to explain to the doctor why we wanted it, and that would be just one more person in the know.

Binkie said she could swab his mouth as well as anyone, since she had the whole do-it-yourself kit right there in her office. But Little Lloyd would've known exactly what was happening as soon as Binkie came at him with a Q-tip. He's smart as a whip, you know.

So I was about at my wit's end. Here we'd managed to find that tooth with Wesley Lloyd's DNA in it, saving us the trouble of digging him up, and you'd think it would be clear sailing from then on out.

“Julia,” Sam said one evening, after several days in abeyance
while we tried to figure out how to scrape the inside of the child's mouth without him knowing it. We were alone in the living room, fretting over the problem. “Julia,” Sam said again, “let's just tell him. We'll assure him that
we
aren't questioning who his father is, but that it's a legal measure to prevent any question later on.”

I was shaking my head all through his little discourse, but before I could say a word, he went on. “We can tell him it's necessary because Wesley Lloyd never legally recognized him as his son. Stress
legally,
because we don't want to stir up any doubts in the boy's mind. That would work, wouldn't it?”

“No, it wouldn't.” I sprang from the sofa because I couldn't sit still. “You don't understand how sharp his mind is, Sam. He'd know in a minute that we were questioning his mother's word and her morals, because he is well aware that his mother and father don't have the same last name. He's already concerned about his own name.”

“Well, then we're right back where we were before Lillian unearthed that tooth.”

I shuddered. “Let's don't talk about unearthing. We escaped that by the skin of our teeth, thanks to her. But, think, Sam, there must be some way we can sneak around and get his DNA.”

“Plenty of ways to get it, but doing it without his knowledge is the problem.”

I paced the living room floor back and forth, trying to think of something. “Why do we have to fiddle around in his mouth, anyway? Didn't you say they can get DNA from all sorts of places? We're already using a tooth, for goodness sakes,”

Sam looked up from under his eyebrows, smiling. “I don't believe we can pull a tooth without him noticing. But,” he went on somewhat more seriously, “you're right. Blood, skin cells, hair—which, by the way, has to have a root on it, so we can't just snip some off—all of that can be tested. But the easiest and least intrusive way is to swab the mouth. That's the way the lab kit's set up, and since they're going to have a hard enough time with
Wesley Lloyd's tooth, we ought to follow their instructions for Lloyd.”

“Well, of course you're right,” I said, about half done in because he usually was. I took another turn around the room, turning the problem over in my mind.

“Well, Julia,” Sam said, slapping his hands on his knees and getting to his feet. “It's past my bedtime. Let's sleep on it and maybe things'll be clearer in the morning.”

“I hope so, because Brother Vern's not going to keep quiet much longer.” I snapped off a lamp and walked across the room to turn off another one. “I'll leave one on for Hazel Marie, although no telling when she'll get in. I declare, you'd think they'd keep earlier hours, what with Mr. Pickens having to go to work in the morning.”

Sam laughed. “He pretty much works when he wants to.”

“Yes, and that's the trouble with him. If he'd buckle down and
settle
down, he'd be a lot better off.” I fluffed up the pillows on the sofa and straightened the girandoles on the mantel. “I'm going to check on Little Lloyd, then I'll be in.”

“Don't be long,” Sam said, as he headed down the back hall toward our bedroom.

I tiptoed up the stairs, noticing a light from the child's room spilling out into the hall. I bit my lip in dismay, fearing that he'd been awake and listening to what we'd talked about.

I crept toward the door of his room and peeked around it. Every light in the room was on, but he was sprawled out in bed, sound asleep. I smiled with relief and carefully walked in to turn off the lamps.

As I approached his bedside and looked down, my heart melted at the sight. There is nothing sweeter or more innocent than a sleeping child. I stood for a minute just to watch over him, as he rested there on the pillow, his wispy hair a disheveled mess and his mouth open, breathing in and out with little gurgling noises.

I smiled, thinking how I would tease him about snoring as he had teased me on occasion. Then I stood stock still, stunned by a sudden realization. Turning on my heel, I hurried out and down the stairs, nearly crippling myself in my haste and in the effort to make no noise.

Rushing into our bedroom, I hissed, “Sam, Sam, get up. Quick, we've got to do it right now.”

Sam jerked upright in bed. “What is it? What's the matter?”

“Come on. Hurry.” I dashed around the room, looking for the implements from the lab kit Binkie had given us. “Where's that Q-tip? Get up, Sam, I can't do it. You'll have to.”

When I told him my plan, he laughed all the way up the stairs, until I told him he'd be mortally sorry if he woke the child. He held his hand over his mouth, doing his best to muffle himself, as he tiptoed behind me.

When we got to Little Lloyd's door, I let Sam take the lead. I pressed behind him, clutching a handful of pajama top. The bedside lamp I'd left on gave us a clear view of the child, still in deep and noisy slumber. Sam crept to the far side of the bed where the boy lay, with me making each step with him.

“See how his mouth is open?” I whispered. “Just scrape that thing in there, and let's get out of here.”

Sam leaned over the bed, and I leaned over him. He eased the stick into the child's mouth, touching neither lip nor tongue. He held it there, suspended for a moment, as Little Lloyd gently snored around it, unaware of what was being done to him.

I nudged Sam. “Do it,” I whispered with some urgency. “Hurry, before he wakes up.”

So he scraped the cotton-tipped stick along the inside of the child's mouth, while I held my breath and watched. Just as Sam made one last swipe, Little Lloyd snorted and jerked his head away. I thought my heart would stop. Then he brought his hand up, and just as Sam retracted the stick, rubbed his nose fiercely.
With a long moan, or maybe it was a sigh, he turned over in bed and curled up, fast asleep again.

Sam clicked off the lamp, and we scurried out, carrying the precious essence of Little Lloyd on a stick.

After carefully stashing our prize in a container, we fell in bed, congratulating ourselves and laughing our heads off.

 

Contrary to what I'd been led to believe, it took only a few days to get the results back. That's how it works when you go private and don't mind the cost.

Binkie called Sam and me to her office and went over the test results with us. They were as plain as the nose on your face. After deciphering the graphs and pointing out the statistical genetic odds to us, Binkie stacked the papers together and slid them into a manila envelope. “I can't imagine you'll ever need these,” she said, “but if I were you I'd keep them in a safe place. That tooth is probably in a million pieces by now, so you won't be able to use it again.” She stopped and squinched her mouth together. “I don't know what happened to the gold that was on it. You want me to call the lab and ask about it?”

“No,” I said, “I don't want anything more to do with any of it. As far as I'm concerned the matter is closed, never to be opened again.”

 

Sam and I met with Brother Vern at Sam's house that afternoon, and I don't mind saying that it gave me a great deal of satisfaction to wave those papers in his face.

“We have the proof now,” Sam told him. “Irrefutable proof that the boy is a Springer through and through. You need to go on about your business now and leave Hazel Marie alone.”

Brother Vern's face turned red as a beet, and I thought he might explode with frustration. He hemmed and hawed and expostulated, but all he could come up with was that science
in all its forms, including evolution, would be the ruination of us all.

Sam tried to explain the test results to him, but Brother Vern was not interested in being enlightened. “All I know,” he fumed, “is that Hazel Marie don't deserve what's come to her, and I won't ever believe any different.”

“Well, frankly,” I said, wanting to have my say, too, “we don't really care what you believe. We want you as far from Hazel Marie as you can get, and it's time you got started.”

I waved the papers in front of him again to shoo him out. He straightened his shoulders and tugged down his coat, all the while giving me a mean look. Then, with a great swelling of his chest to show he was undeterred, he folded his tent and slunk away.

Those papers are safe now in my lockbox at the bank, and every once in a while I think of going down there and destroying them. The day is going to come when I will pass on to my reward, leaving the boy, who I hope will be a grown man by that time, with access to all my papers and possessions. I would purely hate for him to learn, sometime in the future when I'm not around to reassure him, that the issue of his paternity and his mother's veracity had ever come up. I want Hazel Marie to believe that she has my trust, and I want the child to know that he is who he is, without any question or uncertainty entering their heads, or anybody else's.

So I'll do away with those test results one of these days, but in the meantime, I like to have them available just to look at now and then. And, in case we should ever need them. You never know, do you? It's always good to have proof, signed, sealed, and paid for, to wave in somebody's face if the question ever rises again.

Of course, I don't need any tests or papers or official evidence to put my mind at ease. I never had any doubts about that child to begin with.

(
SERVED IN THE LIVING ROOM BY THE TREE
)

Pigs in Blankets

Pecan Coffee Cake

Orange Juice   Coffee

(
DISPLAYED ON SIDEBOARD, SELF-SERVE STYLE
)

Oyster Stew

Oysterette Crackers

Waldorf Salad

Tea   Coffee

(
OFFERED TO DROP-IN GUESTS
)

Lillian's Fruitcake and Date-Nut Bars

Cheese-Nut Wafers

Fudge and Divinity Candies

Coffee   Sparkling Cider   Hot Spiced Tea

Roast Turkey and Cornbread Dressing

Giblet Gravy

Broccoli with Curry Sauce

Creamed Onions with Almonds

Squash Casserole

Candied Sweet Potatoes

Cranberry Orange Congealed Salad

Cranberry Sauce

Lillian's Yeast Rolls

Maraschino Cherry Christmas Pie

Coffee   Sparkling White Grape Juice   Tea