Page 16

CHAPTER 16

Two afternoons later, a crisply-dressed woman of around forty appeared on the doorstep with a briefcase that proved to house a small, ultra-modern DNA testing kit. "Doctor Jacinda Reynolds," she said with a firm handshake, first for Sam, then Lola, and finally for an unusually tongue-tied Chase. "The Gladiator Foundation sent me. Is there somewhere we can set up?"

When Chase failed to answer, Sam said, "The library, I think. Let me show you the way," and tucked his arm into Lola's, leading them all to the library. Chase trailed along behind, evidently too nervous to talk, and sat on the least comfortable couch in there, watching Dr Reynolds with wide eyes. She was, Sam thought, a striking woman: tightly curled black hair worn in a short crop, deep brown eyes, and cheekbones that would still be fabulous when she was ninety. She wore a skirted business suit in royal purple, with a cream blouse and gold jewelry, and Sam rather thought Chase wasn't just stricken with nerves, but appreciation. That was good: Chase spent far too much time taking care of Sam, and not enough taking care of himself.

"How long will it take to get the results, Dr Reynolds?" Sam asked curiously as she set up her kit. It was much smaller and more elegant than he'd expected, although truthfully he didn't know what he had expected. A portable laboratory, maybe. Something with beakers and swirling glass tubes. Very pulp horror, now that he was actually thinking about it.

The corner of Dr Reynolds' mouth turned up. "About ninety minutes."

" Really ?" That was the first word Chase had managed since she arrived, and it was spoken in tandem with Sam and Lola.

"I assumed it would take days, or weeks," Lola said, astonished. "And also, I have to admit I was expecting something…larger." She gestured at the tidy setup, and this time Dr Reynolds smiled a little more.

"The Gladiator Foundation has some very advanced technology. But even a run of the mill laboratory can turn results around in a couple of hours, assuming they don't have a backlog and do have the right equipment. If you'll open your mouth?" she said to Sam, who did. She swabbed the inside of his cheek, then did the same to Chase. "Give me a few minutes," she suggested. "Let me get the program running, and then I'd be delighted to accept that cup of coffee you were about to offer me."

That was directed at Chase, who blinked as if thunderstruck, then hastily said, "Yes, coffee, of course, would you like—yes, you just said you would. Let me…I'll…" He cast a nervous look at Sam, who smiled as beatifically as he could and offered Lola a hand up from the couch.

"My dear, I think that thing needs attending. I'm sure we can leave the young people alone for a while?"

Both of the 'young people' stared at him flatly enough to make Sam laugh. Lola hid her own laughter much more successfully as she took his hand and rose, murmuring, "Oh yes, that thing . We definitely need to attend that thing. I'll put the coffee on," she offered, and the two of them left the library, closed the door, and leaned against each other, trying to muffle their giggles.

"Did you see him?" Sam whispered. "Instantly twitterpated."

"Sparks," Lola agreed, beaming. "There were definitely sparks. I don't even know where the coffee maker is . People keep bringing me cups instead of me going to make one for myself."

"I'm sure we can figure it out," Sam said gallantly. He did know where the various coffee makers were—he still liked an old-fashioned drip coffee, whether made a pot or a cup at a time—and there was also a machine which he understood made some kind of fancy thing Chase and a couple of the staff liked. But admitting that wasn't as much fun as going hand in hand to the kitchen with Lola and searching through cupboards in hopes of finding grounds, cups, filters, or—and he still thought this was odd— pods .

By the time Chase and Dr Reynolds joined them, they had made nine cups of coffee, ranging from a disastrously milky latte to a plain cup, and were trying to clean up the mess they made while Cook stood at the other end of the kitchen, arms crossed over her chest and a thunderous look on her face. Neither Sam nor Lola dared look at her, because every time one of them did, it set off another round of laughter. Lola had already knocked one cup over from clutching at the counter to lean on it and giggle at the cook's expression. Apparently the master of the house and his new wife were really not supposed to be helpful around the house.

"Do you live like this?" Lola asked accusingly. She'd been asking the same question for most of the past few days, disbelieving of the casual luxury Sam was so accustomed to that he hardly knew how else he could be living. She was obviously delighted with it. Just…flabbergasted.

Chase, stopping in the kitchen door, looked absolutely pained as he turned to Dr Reynolds. "I'd say they're not usually like this, but they've only been married three days and I've only known Lola four, so in my experience, they're actually like this all the time."

"You're going to have to tell me that entire story," Dr Reynolds said to him. "Over a cup of coffee. Since it appears we have several to choose from."

"We didn't know what you'd like," Lola said with an obvious attempt to control her laughter. "So we thought we'd make some of everything. Now we're going to be banished from the kitchen for the rest of our lives." She sent an apologetic look toward Cook, who was an imposing woman despite being less than five and a half feet tall. It was something about the hot pink flush in her pale cheeks and the slightly beady glare, Sam thought. No one wanted to mess with that expression. Lola, still apologetic, said, "I can cook," and Wanda—which was Cook's actual name—rolled her eyes.

"If they've made undrinkable coffee," she said to Dr Reynolds, "please don't blame it on me, and please come ask me for something decent ." The last word was delivered with a threatening glare at Sam and Lola, who burst out laughing again and slunk off to the great room with their illicit cups of coffee.

" Perfectly decent coffee," Lola whispered defiantly as they settled into the couch. "And I really can cook!"

"Believe it or not, so can I. I learned to annoy my parents, and I usually make dinner on Monday nights. Wanda even deigns to eat it, sometimes." Sam tested his coffee, which was, in fact, perfectly decent, and lowered his voice. "I'm not sure I've ever been as nervous about anything as I am about this DNA test."

"It's probably why we're giggling like sugared-up six year olds," Lola agreed. "It'll be fine either way. It'll be…"

" Fine ," Sam echoed reassuringly. Every few minutes they told each other the same thing all over again, as if they'd forgotten. Mostly as if they were trying to soothe their nerves, which clearly wasn't working.

Still, the opportunity to curl up on the couch together and mumble reassurances wasn't something Sam had ever imagined having. He could fall into each moment, living in it, awe-stricken and happy. "It's amazing," he eventually murmured. "I know we've said it before, but…everything's changed, but nothing has. This is the life I wanted, Lola."

Lola tipped her head up to steal a kiss, her mouth soft and warm against his. "They do say good things come to those who wait."

Sam laughed, startled. "I'm not sure you're supposed to have to wait fifty years!"

"I don't think there's a time limit on truisms. Oh!" She jolted as her phone buzzed, and took it out to check a message. "It's Jenny, asking if she has a new brother yet. They're taking this very well. Better than I hoped."

Sam nodded. He knew Lola had been afraid to tell her daughter about the child she'd lost into the system, but a clarity had come into Jennifer's eyes as her mother explained. She'd eventually said, "That's why you looked so sad sometimes," very quietly, and gathered Lola into a gentle hug. "I'm sorry, Mom. I wish you felt like you could have told me, but I understand why you didn't. I don't think I would have understood when I was younger, and… I suppose at some point it got too awkward or weird to bring up."

Lola had wiped her eyes and nodded. "It seemed better left in the past. But having found Sam again…"

"Well, and then realizing Chase might actually be your son," Jenny had said briskly. "Long odds on that, but stranger things have happened. You couldn't exactly not try to find out, and tell me, at that point."

"You've grown up into a very reasonable person," Lola had told her daughter fondly. "Where was that reasonableness when you were about fifteen?"

Jenny had laughed. "Buried under being fifteen. I'd say I'm sorry, but you know I got as good as I gave, with Charlee."

"The circle of life," Sam had said rather sanctimoniously, and they'd left it at that. At least until now, with Jennifer texting to ask whether she had a half-brother.

Chase and Dr Reynolds appeared in the passageway between the great room and the breakfast nook at the back of the house. "Jacinda says the results should be ready now."

Sam tried to catch Lola's eye at that 'Jacinda,' decided he was being too obvious about it, and caught her sparkling glance anyway, rending them both close to another giggle. He hadn't imagined giggling would be such a part of his life at this age. Maybe he could think of it as cackling , which seemed more age-appropriate. "How are we doing this?" he asked, suddenly nervous again. "Are we sending Dr Reynolds in to read the results and come out to tell us, or are we all going to go breathe down her neck?"

Dr Reynolds pursed her lips. "Perhaps somewhere in between. You could come into the library with me and not breathe down my neck while I check the results."

"Yes, that sounds less…invasive," Sam agreed. Somehow he'd found Lola's hand with his own and was holding on hard all of a sudden. They stood up, and Lola put her other hand out to Chase, who took it long enough to squeeze her fingers, then led them all into the library. Dr Reynolds took up a place behind the desk, examining the results on her computer, while Sam sat on the couch, Lola and Chase to either side of him. Chase slid his hand into Sam's, holding on just about as hard as Sam and Lola were clutching each other's hands, and for what felt like forever, they hardly breathed, gazes fixed on Jacinda Reynolds.

She glanced up once, just briefly, then brought her attention back down to the data, before finally lifting her eyes and smiling broadly. "Congratulations. You're a family."

Sam's heart crashed into thunder, blocking out almost everything except Lola's shocked, happy gasp and the way Chase's face paled, then flushed hot red as he turned to Sam in stunned astonishment. Then they were hugging, all three of them, and Sam couldn't tell whose tears were whose. It hardly mattered, as Chase scraped out, " Dad ," incredulously, and Sam whispered, "Son," in return.

"I'm so glad. I'm so happy," Lola said through tears. "All I wanted was for you to be safe and happy. That's all that mattered."

Chase made a rough sound and hugged her a little harder through the tangled embrace. "I am. I have been." His voice was awfully shaky as he added, "Mom," carefully, and Lola flooded with fresh tears.

"What an incredibly lucky family we are," Sam said hoarsely. "Thank you, Dr Reynolds. We owe you so much."

She looked startled to be remembered, and passed it off with a smile. "It's a privilege to witness this kind of reunion. I should be thanking you. That said…" She lifted her eyebrows, tilted her head toward the library door, and took her leave, although she didn't bring her things with her, so Sam assumed she was only giving them privacy, not leaving the estate. Then for a time he didn't think of her at all, caught up in hugs, in phone calls— vone calls, he reminded himself with amusement—to the rest of the family, and finally in collapsing into the couch, exhausted from emotion.

Chase, looking as shaky as Sam felt, finally said, "I'd like to talk to Jacinda again," and with a final hug, got up to leave Sam and Lola alone. They both smiled at him, and Sam pulled Lola close, waiting until their son had left to murmur, "Are you all right?"

"I'm wonderful," Lola whispered. "So tired right now, but I also feel like I could fly. I never imagined a happy ending like this, Sam. Not ever. Even in my dreams, it wasn't this perfect. You've done such a good job raising your children," she said hazily. "It's a miracle one of them was ours. I can't believe how lucky I am. How lucky we all are."

"Me either." Sam closed his eyes, reveling in the sensation of having his beloved in his arms, then smiled into her hair. "Of course, I'm a shifter, you know. We didn't stand a chance of outfoxing fate."

Lola breathed an amused sound, then, as she really heard what he'd said, lifted her head to give him an indignant look. "Samuel Todd! You did not!"

He—cackled, he reminded himself. So much more dignified than giggling. He cackled and said, "I'm afraid I did."

"Hmph." Lola put her head back down. "Good thing I love you, or saying things like that might fox it up."

"Lola!" Sam shouted with laughter. "Language, young lady!"

"Why, are you going to vulpine away if I curse a little bit? I'm just thinking outside the fox, Sam, I don't know what you're complaining about. Oh, come on, you can keep up with me if you just fox-us a little bit. And after that wedding dress I wore, I don't want to hear about you thinking I make any fashion fox-paws, either. Furthermore?—"

"No! No! Stop! I concede! I didn't know what I was letting myself in for! When did you become a punster? I don't remember that about you!"

"Isn't it fox-tastic?" Lola grinned up at him as he groaned from the bottom of his soul. "I can keep going, if you want."

"There are so many other ways I'd like you to keep going, though." He stole a kiss, then pressed his forehead against hers, eyes closed as he smiled. "Actually, as long as you stick with me forever, you can make all the terrible fox puns you want."

"For the rest of our lives," Lola murmured contentedly. "Just like we were always meant to be. I love you, Sam. Nothing could ever be more perfect."