The Wrong Side Of The Tracks (Leighton) (11 page)

BOOK: The Wrong Side Of The Tracks (Leighton)
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"Alex, honey
, get up. You're not going to sleep the day away."

"Why not," she mumbled without openin
g her eyes.

"Well for the obvious reasons, it's a beautiful day outside.  And because we're going to deal with this situation, let's nip this in the bud before it turns into another huge web of lies and secrets.  I don't think this family can handle any mo
re drama."

  "What are you talking about?"

"Don't act like I'm the crazy one Alex.  You were the one shouting at me about being your dead Aunt's daughter.  Why do you think she had a baby?"

Alex sat up and leaned against the headboard.  She should have kno
wn she couldn't avoid this conversation.  You can't really drop a bomb like that on someone and go to bed and expect it to go away.  She combed her fingers through strands of her thick black hair trying to appear somewhat presentable, while she carefully chose her words.

"After you went upstairs I called my friend Kenzie, the one that lives in The
Boxes.  Her Mom thought that since I was a Raker, I must be Sandra's daughter.  She got on the phone and said Aunt Sandra was like eight months pregnant when she died, and when she seen me she thought they were able to save the baby."

Her Grandma
nodded; apparently she had made peace very quickly with the idea that her teenage daughter was pregnant when she passed away.  Then again it's probably pretty easy to make peace with something that deep down you knew all along, and just pretended it wasn't true.

"Who is this woman that told you this?  She didn't think that maybe it wasn't her place to put crazy ideas like that in your head?  How did she know your Aunt Sandr
a?"

"Don't be mad at her, I made her tell me.  Kenzie is actually the one that slipped up.  I don't even know her first name, her last name is James.  She said Au
nt Sandra was her best friend, she's Omar's sister."  Alex watched her Grandma's reaction closely as she dropped the name 'Omar.'  She had a sneaking suspicion he was the one that beat up Sandra.

"Well, like I said last night I don't know if that's true about your Aunt Sandra.  But I can prove to you that you are Keri's daughter, and if that means
putting an end to this nonsense, then I will.  Get dressed; Dr. Trist will be here any minute."

Dr. Trist had to be over seventy by now, and had been the Raker's family physician since before Alex was born.  He had grown very close to the family over the y
ears, and even provided them with house calls.  It was no secret that after her Grandpa passed away he even took her Grandma out to dinner a few times.   

"Grandma, a doctor can't just come over and look at me and be able to tell who my biological mother
is."

Her Grandma smiled at her as she took clothes out of her trash-bag on the floor and laid them out on the foot of the bed for her.

"Why don't you have a little faith in your old Grandma?  I'm not senile, I know that!  But there is a way he can help us without sending anything out to a lab."

"What if my Mom finds out?"

"How is she going to find out?  I'm the one that pays Dr. Trist. If I tell him it's confidential, it is going to be kept confidential."

Her Grandma left the room and pulled the door shut
behind her.  Alex sat on the bed hugging her knees.  She had a bad feeling about this.  What if she was wrong and her Mom found out they did all of this?  She would have to endure the wrath of her Mom for nothing.  There was also the possibility she was right, then what?  She glanced at the clothes her Grandma had laid out, with her Leighton Prep hoodie.  The last time she had worn it was the day she met Kenzie, and spent the night with Karter.  Even if she wasn't ready for the truth, she was going to suck it up and talk to Dr. Trist.  Any possible relationship with Karter was on hold until she knew for sure she wasn't related to him.

Alex heard the doorbell chime as she pulled on her hoodie.  She rushed into the bathroom to brush her teeth and try to wash o
ff some of her smeared eye liner.  When she made her way to the bottom of the stairs her Grandma was already sitting on the sofa in the den next to Dr. Trist, nodding as he gestured to some of the papers he had laid out on the glass coffee table.  Alex sat Indian style on the floor, on the other side of the table.

Dr. Trist was one of those old men that you could tell was handsome when he was younger.  He was in great shape for his age, most doctors are.  He wasn't wearing his usual white coat, just a black
button down shirt and crisp khakis.  He greeted Alex with a much more real and informal smile than she had seen before at his office.  Seeing your doctor in your living room was like seeing your pool cleaner at a five star restaurant.

"Good morning Alex,
I heard you didn't want to get up this morning."

She looked at him strangely.  Was that a medical question or a friend of her Grandma's question?  "Yeah, it's Saturday."

He nodded, still smiling.  "Well I don't have a lot of time I have appointments at the office in less than an hour.  Your Grandma said you were concerned about who your biological parents are."  Alex squirmed uncomfortably on the floor, trying to ignore the mocking tone in his voice.  If he was going to laugh at her, he could leave now.

Her
Grandma was already all over it though, "Dr. Trist this hasn't come about without any help.  Individuals have come forward and are filling her head with crazy ideas and Alex just needs a little bit of help putting these ideas to rest."

Dr. Trist listened
to her Grandma and nodded, then turned his attention back to Alex.  "Well, you are in luck Alex.  Have you heard of stem-cell research?" 

Alex shook her head, and waited for him to explain.

"Well my team at the university was experimenting with umbilical cord blood, back in the early nineties.  It was very expensive to extract it, and bank it, and run tests on it but your Mother was very interested in the positive effects so she decided to participate in it."

Alex cringed a little, imagining jars of her an
d her brothers' blood sitting on Dr. Trist's book case.  He must have sensed how unimpressed she was because he added, "It was handled very professionally.  We sent the blood to a bank to be stored."

"But, why?  What is the purpose of saving it?"

"Well there are many diseases that have been cured by cord blood.  If you or your brother were to be diagnosed with a form of cancer in your blood or bones we could use the other one's cord blood to cure it."

Alex nodded slowly.  "So you came here to show me papers
to prove you took my blood when I was born so there's no way my Mom isn't my Mom," she asked skeptically.

Dr. Trist smiled, "Better than that.  Like I
said cord blood research was very new back then.  So we did multiple tests and experiments on you and your brother's bloods, like mixing them and monitoring the results.  These are printouts of you and Donavon's blood work from your umbilical cords."

Alex picked up one of the sheets of paper and stared at the medical
terminology, trying to appear interested.  Dr. Trist pointed at another sheet of paper still on the table, "In your hand are Donavon's results, and these are yours.  This chart shows your parent cells, F is for female and M is for male, your Mom and Dad.  Those are the two cells that were combined to form your cells."

Alex stared at the two charts next to
each other, mentally comparing the lists of molecular pictures labeled ‘F’.  Dr. Trist had stood up and was speaking quietly to her Grandma.

"Thank-you so much for coming over on such short notic
e, I know it was kind of a strange request."

"It was my pleasure, since neither one of the kid's came down with any rare diseases at least all my research was finally put to good use."

Her Grandma laughed, "Thank God they didn't, you sound disappointed!  Do you need those papers back?"

"Oh no, they're just copies.  You're welcome to keep them," said Dr. Trist as he carried his black shoulder bag towards the door.

"Wait!" Alex shouted much louder than she had intended to, startling her Grandma.  She grabbed the charts off the table and rushed over to him.  "Why are these two diagrams different?"  Dr. Trist pulled his glasses out of the front pocket of his shirt and held them up to his eyes as he examined the section she was pointing at.

"I'll be damned
...”

"W
hat?  What is it?" her Grandma asked frantically.  Alex could tell by the alarm on her face that she was scared her plan was blowing up in her face.  There was also a tiny glimmer of hope in her expression though, like she had almost wished Alex was right about her birth mom. And if she was right that meant she still had a piece of her daughter with her.

Dr. Trist went back to the coffee table and picked up another sheet of paper and ran his fingers across the words
like he was speed reading. 

"It looks li
ke there are some variations in some of the cells," he said distractedly as he kept reading.

"Is that normal?" Alex asked shakily.  Suddenly she was wishing she had never brought any of this up
last night.  People keep secrets for a reason, and if secrets had been kept for this many years it was only because the truth was more dangerous than the secret.

Dr. Trist looked at her over his glasses, "Don't worry Keri Raker is definitely the mother of you and Donavon."

Her Grandma sunk onto the couch behind them, obviously relieved, letting out a small sigh. 

"But...there are some small variations in your father cells."

Her poor Grandma shot back up, "What are you saying?" she demanded.

Dr. Trist put a comforting hand on her Grandma's shoulder.  "I never noticed
it before because the father cells are very similar, but there are some variations.  There's a chance that I'm wrong though, you may want to have an actual DNA test done."

"Can't you just go get the blood and test it yourself," Alex asked.

"I wish I could, but the cord blood is only preserved for five or six years and then it' discarded because it's no longer good.  I would need a new sample of you and your father's blood to be sure."

"How sure are you that they have different fathers?
  What’s the chance that you’re wrong?" her Grandma asked bluntly.

"Honestly?"

"Yes," she snapped back at him.

"Blood doesn't lie
. Especially pure forms of blood cells like those in an umbilical cord.  If there are any variations, then they have different fathers."

The three of
them stood there in silence for a few agonizing minutes.  Alex couldn't believe what she was hearing.  Not in her wildest dreams could she have imagined this.  She was so set on proving that her Mom wasn't her Mom, she hadn't even considered the fact that maybe her Dad wasn't her Dad.  "I'll just show myself out," Dr. Trist whispered and headed towards the door again.

Her Grandma folded her into her arms, and Alex could feel her trembling.

"I'm so sorry honey.  I had no idea.  I swear if I knew, I never would have had him come over here.  I was just trying to help you."

Alex pulled away from her and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie.  She felt her legs carrying her towards the door.

"Where are you going?  Alex!"

"I need to go for a walk," she sob
bed.

"No!  We need to talk about this," her Grandma said as she hurried to get in front of her.

Alex stopped and shouted, "I don't want to talk!  I'm sick of talking!  Just get out of my way!"  She walked past her and out the door without looking back.  She was too numb to even feel guilty about yelling at her.

She made it to the end of the driveway in record time and cut across the road into the high grass.  She could feel the briars clinging to her jeans as she pushed through the brush creating her own p
ath.  Once she made it into the woods she stopped and took in the tall trees and sound of rushing water, glancing both ways.  She followed the creek until she came to the part where the high rock wall crossed and created the barrier for the swimming hole. She crossed the slippery rocks as quickly as possible without hesitating or considering the possibility she may fall into the freezing water.

By the time she reached Kenzie's door she looked like hell.  Her boots were muddy and the bottoms of her pants wer
e soaked.  She had briars and burdocks stuck to her hoodie, and she hadn't even brushed her hair or put on any make-up before she ran out of the house.  She stood in front of their door breathing heavily and pounding until she finally heard the lock click.  Mrs. James pulled the door open, and looked like she had just run in the same marathon as Alex.

"Kenzie stayed at a friend's house last night..."

Alex cut her off before she could finish, "Is Karter here?"

Mrs. James stepped aside and opened the door, "Y
ou can check honey. I don't know I was asleep."

Alex didn't even try to hide rolling her eyes at her.  How did she not even know where her own kids are?  She walked past her and through the
living room to Karter's bedroom.  She knocked lightly and then walked in, not waiting for a response, and closed the door behind her.  His curtains were thick and black, and blocked out all the morning sunlight.  She leaned against the door in the dark and began crying uncontrollably. 

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