The Curve Ball - Samantha Lind Page 0,9
assures me, patting my arm before she stands from the couch. “Who’s ready for some lunch?” she asks the girls, and they both start rambling out things over the top of each other.
“Time-out,” Jillian calls out, adding in the hand movements indicating a timeout. The girls come to a screeching halt, giving her their undivided attention. “One at a time, please,” she instructs them.
“Mac and cheese!” Penny calls out.
“PB&J!” Addison says.
“I have an idea,” Jillian says, looking at all of us. “What if we picked up our toys quickly then put our shoes on and go out to eat? We can even bring Auntie Ry and baby Evie with us.”
“Yay!” Both girls cheer as they move to pick up their toys that are spread out from wall to wall in the living room. I’m almost shocked at how quickly they can pick everything up and get it put in the bins along the wall.
“Now, let's go potty and get shoes on,” Jillian instructs them as I start to pack up Evie’s things and get her secured into the car seat. She nods off once back in her seat, tucked in all nice and tight. I slip her pacifier in beside her so that I can easily find it when the need arises. With all the girls ready, we head out to Jillian’s SUV and get the kids loaded. With them settled in the back, we pull out of the driveway and head to Chick-fil-A for lunch.
Five
Justin
“Hello!” I call out as I enter from the garage and then smack my hand over my mouth, not having even thought that Evelyn might be sleeping, and my loud-ass mouth might have just woken her up.
“We’re in here,” I hear Riley call out from the kitchen.
I toss my keys and wallet in the bowl that rests on the table just inside the doorway that my mom said I needed when I bought and furnished this place.
“How’s it going ‘round here?” I ask, taking in everything. Evelyn is content in the swing contraption, moving her side to side. Riley is standing at the island counter, chopping some veggies.
“We’re good. I figured I’d start some dinner,” she says, smiling up at me.
“Thanks,” I say just as the doorbell rings. “That should be my lawyer and the lab to do the test,” I tell her as I turn on my heel and head for the front door.
I open it just as the bell chimes for a second time. “Hello,” I greet as I open the door and find my lawyer and someone from the lab company, just as I suspected.
“JJ,” William greets me. I shake his hand before they walk through the door. “This here is Margaret. She’ll be taking the cheek swabs from both you and the infant. A rush order has been placed, so we’ll hopefully have the results in the next few days,” he tells me as I lead them into the kitchen. I watch almost dumbfounded as Margaret sets down a briefcase-looking box. Opening it, she pulls out a pair of gloves and a long Q-Tip in a plastic tube. She writes on the label before stepping directly in front of me.
“Mr. Johnson, I just need to run this along the inside of your cheek a couple of times,” she informs me. I sit down since I tower over the older woman. She hardly reaches my chest, so it would be a little bit of a reach for her to swab the inside of my cheek. Thankfully, it is quick and painless, and she repeats the process with Evelyn. “Do you have any questions for me?” she asks as she packs up all of her things.
“I don’t think so, just the results as soon as you have them back,” I state.
“Those will go directly to you and your attorney,” she tells me. “Would you like them emailed?” she asks, finishing up a form.
“Sure, or can I be called with them?” I ask, not having any clue how any of this usually works.
“I can mark down both options. Sometimes an email will get them to you a little faster, as the system automatically sends the email out when the results populate. In contrast, the phone call can’t happen until we have someone available to actually call you.”
“Then, an email is perfectly fine,” I assure Margaret.
“Very well. The lab has been fairly fast this week, so I think you should have something back by tomorrow at this time. With the rush order and fee paid,