I had my baby at 17, and for 18 years, I truly believed my high school sweetheart had just run away from us. But then my son took a DNA test to track down his dad, and a single message completely shattered everything I thought I knew.
I was literally in the middle of frosting a sheet cake with “CONGRATS, LEO!” in blue icing when my son walked into the kitchen. He looked totally pale, like he’d just seen a ghost, which made me put the piping bag down right away.
Leo is 18, tall, and usually super chill in his own skin. But that day, he stood in the doorway with a tight jaw, gripping his phone so hard I thought he might crack the screen.
“Hey, baby,” I said. “You look TERRIBLE. Tell me you didn’t eat Grandpa’s leftover potato salad.”
He didn’t even crack a smile. “Leo?”
He dragged a hand through his hair and sighed. “Mom, can you sit down? Please?”
Honestly, when you’re a single mom, nobody asks you to sit down that seriously. I wiped my hands on a dish towel and tried to keep things light.
“If you got someone pregnant… I need ten seconds to become the kind of mother who handles that well. I’m too young to be a Glam-ma.”
That earned the tiniest laugh. “Not that, Mom.”
“Okay. Great. Not great, but better.”
I pulled out a chair and sat at the kitchen table. Leo stood there another second before finally sitting across from me. “Mom, can you sit down? Please?”
(The life-altering DNA result is about to be revealed! Click “Next Page” to continue reading…)
