“Yeah, Chris?” he said as best he could around the screws.
“I’m sorry for interrupting whatever you’re doing but I just listened to the messages on the house phone and someone from social services called, saying that they needed to speak with you right away, that it was really important,” Christian said.
“Social services?” Shea asked, confused.
“Yeah, I have no idea what it could possibly be about, but the woman on the message sounded serious and almost frantic,” Christian said.
“Hmm,” Shea murmured.
“I’ve got her name and number if you want to call her back.”
Shea spit the screws into his hand then put them in a pocket of his tool belt so that he could grab the pencil that was tucked behind his ear. “Okay, shoot.”
Christian relayed the woman’s name and number. Shea just wrote it on the drywall since it would be painted over anyway. After Shea and Christian said goodbye, Shea called up the woman named Jackie Young at social services.
“Jackie Young, speaking,” a female voice answered on the phone.
“Hi, this is Shea Dempsey, you left me a message?”
“Oh, Mr. Dempsey, thank you for calling me back so quickly!”
“Sure, no problem. What can I do for you?” Shea asked.
“Mr. Dempsey, did you know a Ms. Tara Lafferty?” Jackie said grimly.
Shea’s stomach filled with dread at her tone. “Yes, I know Tara, is everything okay?”
“I’m sorry, no. Ms. Lafferty got into a horrendous car accident early yesterday morning and passed away,” Jackie informed him softly.
“Jesus!” Shea breathed, scrubbing a hand over his dark hair.
“That was not exactly the reason I was calling you, though. The reason I called was because Ms. Lafferty was eight months pregnant, and although she died, the baby survived and is in the NICU at Children’s Hospital,” Jackie said.
“Tara was pregnant?” Shea squawked.
“I see that you had no idea. You were not dating?”
“No, I haven’t seen her in about six months…oh my god…” Shea gasped. The last time he saw her he had noticed that her boobs looked bigger, that was probably why. Sonofabitch!
“She listed you as the father of the baby in a Will she had drawn up about a month ago. She has no other living relatives,” Jackie said.
“What are you saying?” Shea asked hoarsely even though he had a pretty good idea.
“What I am saying, Mr. Dempsey, is that you are the child’s only living blood relative. If you do not want to take custody of the child, and would rather sign away your parental rights, then she will be placed in the foster care system,” Jackie said softly.
“She?” Shea croaked.
“Yes, she. The baby is a girl.”
“How…wha…I mean, is she really mine?”
“The only way to know for sure would be to take a paternity test, which will take about a week to get the results. In the meantime, the baby is healthy and cleared to be released from the hospital. I wanted to give you the option to take her home with you before I made other arrangements.”
Shea’s knees suddenly felt like jello and he swore all of the blood drained out of his brain. “Holy shit, are you for real, lady, or are you just fucking with me?” Shea rasped.
“I am completely serious, Mr. Dempsey. I will give you some time to think things over, but you must call me by tomorrow morning with your answer. The hospital will not continue to keep the baby there if she is healthy and can leave.”
“Okay.” Shea breathed and hung up the phone.
He needed air. He stumbled out of the house he was working in and down the front steps. A few guys asked him if he was okay but he just ignored them and went to his truck. He got in, started it up, and drove out of there; he’d deal with the consequences of leaving later. He needed to get home, he had to talk to Christian, and he just couldn’t do it over the phone. He needed Christian there to catch him when he passed the fuck out.
Shea made it home in record time. He walked in the front door and immediately called for Christian. Christian appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, his face a mixture of confusion and concern.
“Shea, what are you doing home? I thought you were working late?” Christian asked as he started toward him.
“I called that woman, Jackie, back,” Shea croaked.
Christian stopped in front of him. “And?”
“Tara died in a car accident yesterday morning,” Shea whispered.
Christian sighed. “Shit.”
“That’s not all, though. She was eight months pregnant. The baby survived and is down at CHOP. Tara supposedly named me as the father in her Will.”
Christian sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes widening as he woodenly took a couple of steps back to drop down onto the stairs. “What?” He breathed, staring up at Shea.
Shea scrubbed his hair with both hands and started to pace. “Jackie said that if I don’t want the baby then she’s going to be put into foster care because Tara has no other living relatives.”