I had no idea that a little lunch break would introduce me to a homeless stranger who shared my birthmark and could turn out to be my father. I can’t get rid of the sense that my life is going to take a completely unexpected turn while we wait for the results of the DNA test that could change everything.
I untied my tie as I left the office and entered the street. Even though the city was bustling and the sun was scorching, all I could think about was getting a fast snack before my afternoon meetings. These days, work was constantly going, but that’s only part of the job. I’ve put in too much work to be in this position to moan now.
It wasn’t easy growing up in that old trailer with Mom. She made sure we had plenty, even if we didn’t have much. Mother Stacey was a beautiful person.
She did everything it needed to put food on the table and a roof over our heads, working herself to the bone, taking on double shifts at the cafe, and cleaning houses on the weekends. I still picture her wearing herself out and arriving home late, but always grinning at me.
With her rough hands cupping my face, she would tell me, “Don’t worry about what anyone else says, baby.” “You’re going to succeed in life. I simply know it.”
That being said, she was not present while I advanced in my career. I’ve been missing her every day since she passed away a few years ago. Losing mom was like losing a piece of myself because she was my biggest supporter and the one person who never stopped believing in me.
Lost in contemplation, I approached the fast-food restaurant when I noticed a homeless man leaning against the wall. He had a gritty appearance. He had a scraggly beard and his tiny physique was hung up with garments. I paused for a while before taking out a ten-dollar bill from my pocket.
I handed him the bill and put it in his basket.
He murmured, “Thanks,” and barely looked up as he tucked the cash into his pocket. I gave a nod and turned to leave, considering what lunch I should get.
<
However, before I could get ten paces, I heard him once more. This time, his voice was rougher but louder. “Hi! Hold on!”
When I turned around, I was taken aback to see him standing and pointing at my arm with wide eyes. “The birthmark… on your arm,” he stumbled and shook his voice. “I have the same one.”
A beat skipped in my heart. “What are you talking about?”
He undid his shirt collar and showed me the same crescent-shaped mark on his neck that was on my arm.
“Is your mom’s name Stacey?” With tears in his eyes, he questioned, his voice scarcely more than a whisper at this point.
A shiver went down my spine. “Yeah… how do you know that?”
“Because… I think I might be your father,” he said, his eyes shining with emotion.
I fixed my gaze on him, the outside world vanishing from view. Is this actually happening?
His expression showed emotions racing over his face, and his eyes were big, just as overwhelmed as I was. “I… I don’t remember much,” he stammered as he opened his mouth. “My name is Robert. That’s all I know, though. Nothing, no memory. Only this birthmark, and ‘Stacey’ tattooed on my arm.”
My throat knotted up at what he said. There was a strong, unsaid bond between us that I could sense. However, I still required evidence. “I’m going to give my wife, Sarah, a call,” I interrupted the quiet. “She should know what’s going on.”
I didn’t know how to convey what had just transpired while I was phoning her. Upon hearing Sarah’s response, I inhaled deeply. “Hi Sarah. A significant event has occurred. I believe… I may have located my dad. We are on en route to the hospital for a DNA test.”
The person on the other end hesitated before speaking, sounding surprised and worried. “Your dad? Are you sure, Alex? Really, though—wow. Alright. I’ll see you in the medical facility.”
“Thanks, Sarah,” I murmured, happy that she agreed. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I need you there with me.”
“I’ll be there,” she said.
We made the quick decision to go to the hospital. We strolled silently back to my car, immersed in our own reverie. After we got in the car, Robert finally said anything.
He said, “Alex, I don’t know what happened to me,” as he peered out the window. “I had no idea who I was or where I was from when I was merely standing under a bridge one day. But I did get that name tattooed on me, your mom’s. I clung to that connection because it was all I had, and I thought maybe it would lead somewhere. Someone. But I’ve just been lost for all these years.”
I gripped the driving wheel and said, “I grew up thinking you were dead.” “Mom only mentioned that you vanished; she never discussed you. I reasoned that she might not want to discuss it since it hurt too much.”
Robert let out a sigh as his shoulders lowered. “I don’t hold her accountable. It’s my fault if I did vanish and left you two. But I promise, none of it is in my memory. All I know is that it feels like I’ve been missing a piece of myself, and seeing you today feels like I’ve rediscovered it.”
My throat knotted up at what he said. There was a strong, unsaid bond between us that I could sense. However, I still required evidence. “My spouse and I will investigate the situation. I swear.”
With a slight smile pulling at his lips, Robert nodded. “I appreciate you not shoving me away. This is a lot, I know.”
“It is,” I concurred. “But if there’s a chance… I mean, if you really are my father, I need to know.”
Sarah was waiting for us at the hospital when we got there, looking apprehensive. Her gaze softened as she glanced at Robert and then back at me. “Hi,” she smiled slightly and murmured softly. “I’m Sarah, Alex’s wife.”
Robert said, his voice hardly audible above a whisper, “Nice to meet you.” He pulled it together as we got closer to the nurse’s station, even though I could see the nervousness in his eyes.
The nurse informed that the results of the express DNA test will be available in the morning. We were left with no choice but to wait what seemed like an eternity. I had an odd need to hold Robert close as we left the hospital. “Why don’t you come home with us tonight?” I recommended. “We can talk, get to know each other a little.”
Robert gave me a surprised and appreciative look. “Are you sure?”
I nodded, desperate to make eye contact. “Yeah,” I said. “I think it would be good for both of us.”
We sat by our home fireplace that evening, the beautiful shadows created by the fire’s warm radiance. After Sarah prepared dinner, we talked for hours on end.
I filled Robert in on my life story, including the struggles my mother and I had, my perseverance in achieving my goals, and how much I missed her. His eyes never left mine as he listened closely, seemingly taking in every word.
Robert mutely remarked, “I wish I could remember,” when I had finished telling him about Mom. “I wish I could have been there for you both.”
I spoke gently and added, “Maybe you weren’t here as I thought, but maybe there’s a reason you’re here now.” We will quickly learn the truth.”
When the nurse delivered us the envelope containing the results in the morning, we were back at the hospital, our hearts racing. As I opened it, my hands trembled as Robert watched me expectantly. But my heart fell when I read the words.
I murmured, “You’re not my father,” and the words hung thick in the air.
Robert’s expression fell, and for an instant, we both stood there, heartbroken. His voice cracked, “I’m sorry,” he said. “I ought not to have… I apologize for putting you through this.”
With tears in my eyes, I shook my head. “Avoid becoming. It’s been nice to meet you. I’m not sure how to put it, but it seems significant. We’ve discovered something here, even if we’re not father and son. Robert, we can still remain friends.”
He gave me a startled expression. “You’d want that?”
Yes, I said, nodding. “Yes, I would. And I’d like to support you. Together, we will help you get back on your feet and discover your background and identity. You are no longer required to live alone.”
Tears filled Robert’s eyes, but they were tears of relief this time. “I’m grateful, Alex. You’re not aware of how much this means to me.”
I realized then that we had discovered more than simply a solitary fragment of our history. We now had optimism for the future.