Chapter 49: Patience

January 19, 1983, Goshen, Ohio

"ORDER! ORDER IN THE COURT!" Judge Taft demanded, banging his gavel.

I was stunned, and from the looks on Mr. and Mrs. Newton's faces, they were shocked and stunned. Bev, on the other hand, looked horrified. She turned, basically dumped Heather on her mom's lap, then pushed past me before I could say anything and bolted for the courtroom door.

"ORDER!" the Judge said again, banging his gavel twice.

I wondered what to do and decided Bev needed me more than I needed to hear what was said in the courtroom, so I got up and hurried out the door. I looked down the corridor and saw Bev go into the women's restroom and hurried after her, stopping at the door. I heard crying and struggled with what to do. I looked up and down the corridor and saw a female Sheriff's Deputy and hurried over to her.

"Hi. My friend just has some shocking news in a courtroom and ran into the women's restroom. I can hear her crying, but I'm very concerned."

"What's her name?"

"Bev," I replied. "She's about your height, with long brown hair."

"And probably the only woman bawling in the restroom?" the Deputy said with a friendly smile.

"Uh, yeah," I replied sheepishly.

I walked with the Deputy to the door of the restroom and waited while the Deputy went inside. I heard some muffled conversations, but couldn't make out what was being said.

"Jonathan?" Mr. Chojnicki said, coming up to me.

"She's in the restroom. I asked a Deputy to check on her."

Mrs. Newton rushed past us and went into the restroom, having given Heather to Mr. Newton.

"What's your blood type, Jonathan?" Mr. Chojnicki asked.

"I have no clue," I replied. "I rarely saw a doctor growing up. But it's literally impossible for me to be Heather's dad because I was in Chicago when Bev conceived. Not to be indelicate, but she had a period right before I moved at the end of May 1981, and we didn't have sex after that before she conceived. I'm no expert, but that's definitive, as far as I'm aware."

"Yes, it is. You understand what you're saying, right?"

I nodded, "And that's why Bev is in the restroom crying hysterically."

"She's not yours?" Mr. Newton asked.

I shook my head, "No, though at this point, I almost wish she was."

"Me, too," he replied, sighing heavily.

"Now what?" I asked Mr. Chojnicki.

"The hearing was adjourned pending dismissal of the petition. That will happen once Mr. Leahy's attorneys file a petition of non-paternity, with blood test results. That will be granted, and then they'll dismiss the petition for custody and visitation."

"How did nobody catch this?" I asked.

"Because Mr. Leahy didn't challenge paternity, for what I think are obvious reasons, and was listed on the birth certificate. They would only have received the medical report yesterday. I'm actually surprised they didn't catch it immediately."

"I wonder," I said. "They asked my blood type in the deposition. I think they knew and let it play out for some reason. Maybe to embarrass Bev? Maybe to point the finger at me?"

"Possibly," he agreed. "It does potentially point the finger at you, which, while not specifically relevant, does cast doubt on Bev's veracity."

"Yeah, well," Mr. Newton said unhappily, "I think that's shot to hell."

"Mr. Newton," I said, keeping my voice soft, "Bev is going to need our love and support, not recrimination."

"But you know..."

I cut him off.

"What I know is I care about Bev, and I want to help her. Whatever happened, she needs me as a friend, and she needs you and your wife as her parents and Heather's grandparents."

"Have fun paying child support for your kid and your slut, you lying fuckwad!" Bob Leahy declared as he walked by.

"Why you son of a..." Mr. Newton began, but I put my hand on his arm.

"Let it go," I counseled. "There's no point in getting into it with him."

"Jonathan is right," Mr. Chojnicki said. "Just let it go."

"What happens now?" I asked. "I mean in that regard?"

"I'll do my best to prevent the county from trying to claw back the child support Bev has already received, but I'm not likely to succeed because she lied about the baby's paternity. She may have to repay it."

"God damn it!" Mr. Newton swore.

"Mr. Newton," I said, "as much as this might upset you, it's only money. What's more important is helping Bev and Heather."

"He's giving you good advice, Jim," Mr. Chojnicki counseled.

Bev, her mom, and the Deputy emerged from the restroom.

"What can I do for you?" I asked.

"Just go home, Jonny," she said.

"Bev..." I protested.

She shook her head.

"Let me talk to her," Mrs. Newton said to me.

I nodded and she and her husband made eye contact, clearly communicating something.

"Jonathan," Mr. Newton said, "we'll take the girls home and then you and I can have lunch and I'll get you to the airport."

I didn't like abandoning Bev, and I really wanted to talk to her, but if she wouldn't talk to me, there wasn't much I could do about it because I had to make my flight back to Chicago. While I could probably get away with taking another day off, the last thing I wanted to do was risk problems with the move, and I absolutely had to be at the Bloomberg training on Friday morning.

"I don't like leaving Bev," I protested.

"Just go, Jonny," she sighed. "Please."

She was acting irrationally out of emotion, but I couldn't blame her, given the obvious implication — that she'd slept with someone other than Bob and me, despite having said ... I stopped short in that thought. She'd never said it, she'd only implied it. She hadn't lied to me, as I saw it. She had, in effect, hidden it by simply telling other truths, and I hadn't had complete information. What I could infer is that she'd cheated on Bob, but discounted that encounter as being the source of her pregnancy. That would make all the pieces fit together.

"Let's go to the car," Mr. Newton said.

"I'll be in touch, Jim," Mr. Chojniki said.

"Thanks."

The five of us left the courthouse and rode to the Newtons' house in silence. I went to my mom's house and grabbed my bag, then met Mr. Newton at the car.

"Swing by the High School, please," I requested. "I need to tell Mom."

"OK."

Ten minutes later, I walked into Goshen High and went to the office where my mom was working. She hurried to the counter.

"How did it go?" Mom asked.

"I'm not sure it could be worse," I replied.

"Oh, no! What?"

"Bob and Bev both have O+ blood. Heather has A+."

"Oh my word!"

"Mom, what's my blood type?"

"I have no idea, but mine is A+. Obviously I don't know your dad's."

"Which means I either have A+ or whatever dad's was, if I understand it."

"I think you could have AB if he was B," Mom replied.

"And O," my former science teacher, Mr. Kingman, said. "With A and B, you can have A, B, AB, or O. About a third of the population has A+, another third has O+, around eight percent have B+, and around three percent have AB+. About fourteen percent have Rh- blood, with most of them being A- or O-, a smaller group being B-, and a tiny group being AB-."

"Thanks, Mr. Kingman."

"How are you, Jonathan?"

"Good. I moved to Chicago and I'm working for a company named Spurgeon Capital as an investment analyst."

"And had you applied yourself in my class, you'd have had A's every quarter."

I nodded, "I'm aware. I have a question. Is it possible to positively determine a baby's father with some kind of test?"

"Blood tests are very good for ruling out paternity, but not nearly as good at proving it. The courts will generally accept a blood type match and an assertion from the mother. There are new tests being developed in research laboratories that compare DNA, but those are purely theoretical at this point. They could be as accurate as 99.999% if the science pans out, but nobody knows if that will happen."

"Thanks."

"Are you being sued for paternity?"

"No. This is about a friend of mine, and there is zero chance I'm the baby's father."

"Bev Newton, right? You were closer than any two kids I've ever met, and she was very obviously pregnant before she graduated."

"Yes, but I was already in Chicago when that happened."

"What were the blood types?"

"O+ for Bev and A+ for Heather."

"Then Heather's father has to be A or AB. He cannot be B or O. It is possible for parents with A and B respectively to have children of any blood type, but if Heather is A, and her mother is O, then the father absolutely cannot be O or B. There are some very, very rare exceptions, but with Heather having type A blood, none of them apply."

"Thanks."

"It was good to see you, but I need to get to class."

"It was good to see you, as well," I said.

He walked away.

"He didn't have to comment on your grades," Mom said quietly.

"Sure he did. He bugged me constantly about applying myself. Because I made the point about having a good job, he felt justified in reminding me. He's not wrong."

"How is Bev?"

"A basket case. She's with her mom now. She didn't want to speak to me."

Mom nodded knowingly, "If what I surmise is true, she's embarrassed, frightened, and more than a little emotional."

"I don't see any other option."

"Nor do I if those blood test results are accurate."

"They might not be?"

"Labs do make mistakes, but don't hang your hat on that. It was just a comment, not a theory."

"I'm going to lunch with Mr. Newton then heading back to Chicago. I thought about staying, but Bev told me twice to go home."

"She doesn't mean it, really, Jonathan. She's just emotional."

"I know. And I'm not subject to emotion."

"My own Mr. Spock!" Mom replied. "Though you learned that from me growing up. I've discovered a bit of emotion is OK in the right circumstances."

"I do not even want to know what those are!" I declared.

Mom laughed softly, "Yes, that, too."

"This is where I say 'goodbye' and leave!" I said with a grin.

"Oh, stop! I'll see if I can speak with Bev. We are something of kindred spirits in some ways, if separated by about twenty years. I'll call you, OK?"

"Yes. Thanks."

"Come give your mom a hug."

She buzzed me past the low gate so I could hug her, then I left the office, walked out to the parking lot, and got into the car with Mr. Newton.

"I ran into Mr. Kingman, the science teacher," I said. "He confirmed that because Heather is A+, Heather's father has to be either A or AB, and cannot be O or B. If Bob and Bev are O+, then there is no way Heather is Bob's child."

"And I did the math, knowing when you left and when Bev got pregnant and when you visited. I'm positive you're not Heather's dad, even though I wish that were true."

"As I said, in some ways, I do, too. It would have been a mess, but nothing like now."

"Who is going to say it first?" Mr. Newton asked.

"Neither of us, and you are NOT going to grill Bev about it, either. Let your wife and my mom handle this."

"Are you on drugs?!" Mr. Newton growled.

"No," I replied, keeping calm, "I'm not. You cannot do any good by badgering Bev to tell you what happened. All you'll do is alienate her."

"I'm missing how you can be so calm about this!"

"Because I simply do not care who Bev was with. It's none of my business in any way, shape, or form. It's none of your business, either."

"BULLSHIT!" he growled. "She's my daughter!"

"And she's an adult," I replied. "One who made choices, as poor as they might be, but choices, nonetheless. I can not and will not judge her. What I can do is support her."

"She lied to you!"

"No, she hid something from me. She never once claimed not to have been with anyone other than Bob, and I never asked because it's none of my business. She didn't cheat on me because, despite all the external appearances and our behavior, we were never a couple. Sure, we acted like one..."

"I'll say!" Mr. Newton said accusingly.

"Yes, but Bev and I never once talked about being a couple. We were friends, and now, in hindsight, I understand what we had, but I sure didn't before I went to Chicago. And that's where I messed up, and everything that happened afterwards is a direct result of my selfish behavior."

"You've lost me."

"I didn't tell Bev anything about Chicago until I'd already made the arrangements for the job and had the letter from Spurgeon with my start date and salary. And then I didn't ask her to come with me."

"She was still in High School!"

"Yes, she was. But I could have asked her to come to Chicago once she had graduated and she would never have started seeing Bob."

"Well, if she cheated on him, you can't be sure about that."

"I couldn't be more sure about anything," I countered. "Bev would never have cheated on me. Never. She only went with Bob because I selfishly made my plans without consulting her. So, if you want to place blame, a good chunk of it lies with me."

"You aren't the one who went whoring around!"

I felt my blood boil, something that had happened only once or twice in my entire life, and never the way it just had. The visceral reaction I felt was strange, but I recognized it right away, and had to tamp it down.

"If you use that word again, or one like it, I will lose my temper," I said evenly. "You do not want that to happen."

Mr. Newton was silent until we pulled into the parking lot of Frisch's on Beechmont Avenue. We went inside and asked for a non-smoking booth, and were seated right away. A waitress came and took our drink orders. We perused the menus, and when she returned, we ordered our food.

"You don't want to know who it is?" Mr. Nelson asked.

"I do, but it's also none of my business. If Bev chooses to tell me, then I'll know. If she doesn't, then I won't."

"And you'd marry her without knowing?"

"I don't know what our relationship status is. I was confused about it at Thanksgiving and Christmas, and this just makes things even more confusing. Bev doesn't know either, and when we've spoken about it, she's always insisted she wasn't ready to decide."

"Did you ask her? I mean directly?"

"On more than one occasion, but she's always put me off."

"I've got a good God-damned reason to believe why she did that."

"I know you're upset, but that won't help. And whether Bev was feeling guilty or just scared and confused, you being upset won't help her get through this. And in the end, you and I both want the same thing — for Bev to be happy, and for Heather to have a good childhood."

"I swear, you are one cold-hearted bastard."

I smiled, "Literally, as my mom wasn't married to my dad."

"I didn't mean it that way!" Mr. Newton said quickly.

"And I didn't take it as an insult. My career requires what one of the traders from London calls 'bloody-minded focus' and a 'killer instinct', or as other friends have put it, 'cold-hearted, steely eyed analysis'. Emotions cannot factor into it, ever. And that's how I conduct my life. I also don't apply bullshit external systems of morality to other people. I'm going to say something provocative, but you put more value on Bev's virginity than she did."

"You smug son of a bitch!" Mr. Newton growled.

"What I just said is true, whether you like it or not. And to continue that thought, Bev's decision to have sex was hers and hers alone. Mine was mine and mine alone. What you, your wife, my mom, or whatever mythical being you think runs the universe, thought is totally and completely irrelevant."

"So you just do whatever you want? And nobody can tell you otherwise?"

I smiled, "Bev always could."

"You're a real smart ass."

"But to continue the thought, the SEC, CFTC, and IRS sure can tell me to jump and I'll ask 'how high?'. So can Noel Spurgeon. Whatever I do, I cannot intentionally harm anyone else. And, going back to the conversation at the breakfast table, making a profit from a legal financial transaction is not harming the person who is selling to me or buying from me, so long as they enter into the deal willingly, or are required to do so by a contract they signed."

"You are not the same kid I remember growing up next door."

"Sure I am," I replied. "The difference is you're seeing me as a man, an adult, not as a little kid. You haven't stopped seeing Bev as a little girl, a child."

"Why you..." he started, his face turning red.

"It's true," I said, interrupting him. "And you want me to be a man, because a man, with a good job, a nice place to live, and the resources to care for Bev and Heather is exactly what you want, even if you're offended that we sleep together."

"And you'd still take her? Even now?"

"Are you kidding?" I asked. "Think about my mom and about what you just said!"

"Shit," he said quietly. "I'm sorry, Jonathan. I'm thinking the way your grandparents probably did."

I nodded, "From what Mom has said, yes, you are. And I take that personally."

"And yet you don't show it."

"By being emotional? No. But clearly my words conveyed my thinking, because they raised your blood pressure."

"Presentation," Mr. Newton said. "If you yelled or screamed or got emotional, it would have less effect. The fact that you're so calm and say the things you've said makes the words stronger."

That was something that was VERY good to know, and something I filed away for the future, as it confirmed how I naturally approached the world, and how effective it was.