If at First You Don't Succeed

Vera folded her hands in front of her as her steely eyes met Tom’s. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

“No,” she stated. The word lay cold in the quiet of the room.

Tom stared at her and then pushed his gaze down to the battered wood table where the paper lay.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” she said in the same tone.

“Are you…” Tom stopped mid-sentence. “It’s worse than I thought.”

“That would be an understatement.”

“You’re sure?”

“I can’t make it any plainer. You are not the father.”

“But he’s my son. I raised him. He’s all I had.”

“You have no claim to the $4 million under the laws of the state.”

Tom snatched up the paper, wadded it up and threw it against the wall behind her. He pushed his hair forward with both hands and paced like a caged animal. He kicked over the chair and turned back toward her.

“You’re making this hard on yourself.”

“I don’t care!” he yelled, “There has to be something you can do to make this right!”

“There isn’t. You were never married. The child isn’t yours. You have no rights.”

Tom pointed a finger at her and paused. “What did you say?”

“I said you have no rights. The child’s estate will go to the next of kin. That would be his grandmother.”

“No. Before that.”

“You were never married. The child isn’t…”

“That!” Tom’s eyes popped open wide. A smile crawled over his lips. “Of course! Common-law marriage!”

“You have no proof.”

Tom chortled. “I may not be the dad, but if I’m the stepdad, I get it all and in 1977, we filed a joint tax return. To think she begged me to “Get rid of all that crap.” But that proves we were married!


Flash Fiction Story
Limited to 300 words
Must contain the line: "It's worse than I thought."