I too have blue eyes, and Melissa used to say I have Paul Newman eyes. She used to buy Paul Newman’s Own salad dressing, just because of my eyes. Melissa loved my blue eyes, and she always spoke of them lovingly.
I looked it up. Two blue eyed parents can in fact have a brown eyed baby, but it’s rare. Still, Hazel’s brown eyes, plus my pathetic sperm, plus I was only around on the weekends, and sometimes not even on the weekends, got me thinking. Was I really the father?
I took a week off from my job on what I called paternity leave. The manager was not happy, but I told him I had to see and bond with my baby, and that was all there was to it. Besides, I was exhausted from the long commutes, week after week after week. Luckily, even though Melissa had just given birth, she was still horny all the time, and I had a wild week of almost nonstop sex. I was mainlining Viagra just to keep up with Melissa, who had stopped sex during her ninth month, upon the advice of her obstetrician.
Despite all the sex, I still managed to eat, and to sleep (a lot!), and to bond with tiny Hazel, even if she mostly slept, pooped, and nursed at Melissa’s gorgeous breasts. Hazel slept so much, she even fell asleep while nursing at Melissa’s breast, but the instinct to suck is so strong, that she continued to nurse even while asleep. I felt it was a beautiful sight to watch our baby nurse.
Sometimes, Melissa, exhausted too, would sleep through the nursing. Then it was my job to move Hazel to the other boob for the second half of her meal. I’ve always been a fan of a woman’s boobs, so I loved doing that. Melissa’s boobs seemed to be a little bigger, too. I attributed it to all the milk inside them.
Friends dropped by to visit, and our home was a welcoming place. The two visitors who came around most often were Brandy and Sam. I began to realize that it was not only Brandy, but also Sam who played big roles in Melissa’s life, especially during the week, when typically, I was off in the land of milkmaids, and cheese heads.
Gradually I realized Sam seemed closer to Hazel than he was to Brandy, even though he was advertised as Brandy’s partner. I buttonholed Brandy while Sam was playing with the baby and Melissa was occupied, and told her about my observations.
“Didn’t Melissa tell you? Sam and I broke up over a month ago. He wanted to play the field, and I wanted a faithful boyfriend. I mean, I didn’t mind a little group sex from time to time, but I wasn’t about to be one of Sam’s several girlfriends, you know?” Brandy said.
“Besides, some of the others were married, and there’s rumors Sam is the father of their babies. His condoms have a way of being defective. Who needs that?” Brandy added.
“Yes, I know. I’m sorry about the break-up, Brandy. I know you felt strongly about Sam,” I said.
“Thanks, Mark. I’ve always known you’re a stand-up guy,” she replied.
“By the way, with the group sex, was Melissa involved?” I asked.
“Sam has always had a crush on Melissa, but most of the time Melissa and I prevented that sort of thing from happening. You know how Melissa gets when she’s drunk and high. I think the whole town has seen her gorgeous boobs, at one time or another,” Brandy said.
“Yes, I know, she does tend to get a little exhibitionist most of the time when she’s good and drunk,” I replied.
“Well, it’s a good thing oral sex can’t make a girl pregnant, is all I can say,” Brandy joked, and then muttered, “Oops,” in a low voice, as if she were speaking to herself.
“Brandy, did Melissa suck off other guys? Did she fuck them, too?” I asked.
“You should talk to Melissa about such things, Mark,” Brandy said, blushing a lovely shade of Candy Apple Red.
“Am I the father of Hazel?” I asked. “I mean the biological father, as well as the actual father?”
“Of course, you are!” Brandy said. “You’re the only guy for Melissa. She talks about you all the time, and she cries at night sometimes when you’re off in the land of milk and more milk,” she said.
“Wisconsin has bees, too,” I said.
“Huh?”
“Bees make honey. It’s the land of milk and honey, Brandy,” I said.
“Not according to Melissa. She calls it the land of milk and milkmaids. She figures you’re porking a couple of them up there, and that’s how she got the STD,” Brandy said.
“The STD?” I asked.
“You have to know. You gave it to her. You doubtless got it from some Wisconsin slut,” Brandy said.
“I don’t have, and have never had, an STD. If Melissa had one, as you say, she got it from someone else,” I said, as I turned to look at Sam. Brandy also turned and looked at Sam.
“Maybe we should get checked,” Brandy said.
“Maybe we should. I know you can get STDs from sucking off infected guys, but what I want to know now is, am I the biological father of Hazel?” I asked Brandy, in a rather firm tone of voice, as Sam looked lovingly at Hazel, and Brandy looked as if she wanted to be anywhere else but where she was.
“Of course, you are,” Brandy nervously replied. “Don’t be silly. What kind of host are you, anyway, Mark? I need a drink!”
“Another Coke Zero?” I asked.
“No, a glass of Scotch whisky, please,” she said.
I looked at her. I knew the truth, or as much of it as I ever would know. I left to get Brandy her whisky. From the corner of my eye, I saw Melissa slap Sam’s hands as he tried to prevent her from covering the boob our baby had just fed from. Melissa giggled, as I seethed. I got a Scotch for myself, as well.