"I can't believe this!" Gin sounded angry.

"You are so irresponsible!"

"He's absolutely wonderful!" Liv said, eyes shining.

Mom piped up, "He looks just like you did when you were . . . um, how old is Louis?"

Paris glared at me, presumably pissed because we weren't going to work on his beloved project for the Council today. Dad gave me the thumbs-up. Of course, then I remembered that his thumbs were the only thing on him going up lately. I shuddered.

"Louis," I said, crouching in front of him, "Grandma asked how old you are."

The boy looked at me for a moment, then turned to Mom and threw his arms around her neck. He still hadn't said a word, but Mom was in heaven.

"So," Gin asked, "what are you going to do?"

I ran my hands through my hair. What was I going to do? "I have no idea."

"I'd say he's about Romi and Alta's age,"

she said quietly. "You'll have to enroll him in their school so they can show him around."

"And don't forget to add him to your insurance," Liv added.

"You'll need a sitter for this afternoon," Paris growled, still obviously fixated on work.

Dad just sat there and grinned. Thanks, Dad. Thanks, Dad.

"You'll need to turn the guest room into his room," Mom said in a love-struck voice. "And we'll have to go shopping for clothes and toys!" Clearly I was now off the hook with her in the grandkid department. Somehow that didn't make me feel better.

"Hold on!" I brought my hands up in front of me to fend off the maternal brigade. "I don't know what I'm going to do yet."

"Do?" Mom glared at me. "What do you mean? He's your son, Dak! You have to take care of him. Raise him!"

"And since he's yours by blood," Paris interrupted, "you'll have to start training him."

Gin would have said something if she weren't on the phone telling Diego to bring Romi over immediately to meet her new cousin.

The whole room erupted in discussion. I stumbled backward, falling into a chair and slumping in defeat. We hadn't even determined paternity, and everyone assumed Louis was part of the family.

I had to give it to the kid: He really glowed with all the praise and adoration. But he still hadn't said anything. What was up with that? Plus, I realized that having a new son would put a serious crimp in my mission to prove my manhood.

My head hurt. Between the run of bad Guns Will Keep Us Together women luck, the crazy assignment from the Council, and the appearance of my "son," I was pretty sure one of the arteries throbbing in my forehead would burst. Maybe I should get Gin and Diego to agree to be his guardians once I died from this. women luck, the crazy assignment from the Council, and the appearance of my "son," I was pretty sure one of the arteries throbbing in my forehead would burst. Maybe I should get Gin and Diego to agree to be his guardians once I died from this.

"Well, I think that went rather well." A small voice seemed to emanate from my alleged son once everyone had left. I peeked cautiously through my fingers.

"Excuse me?" I asked, mouth agape (which, by the way, is not a good look for me).

Louis came over and sat at the table next to me, his chin resting in his hand. "I'm not saying it was perfect, but it was good. My new family is very nice."

I stared at him. The damn kid hadn't uttered a word the whole time! Now he sounded like . . . like an old Jewish comedian working in the Catskills.

" 'Sup, Sheckie? Why are you talking now?"

I asked.

The so-called fruit of my loins responded, "Sheckie? Come on, Dad. I can barely stand Louis. Mom thought it sounded intelligent."

"How old are you?" I asked. Maybe he was a midget teenager. Then I wouldn't need a sitter.

Louis rolled his eyes. "Not very good at this, are you? I'm six."

"You're shitting me!" I said before I could stop myself.

Louis frowned. "You're not supposed to use that kind of language around me." He looked around the room. "Actually, this place seems more like a bachelor pad than a home for a kid."

He was right. I didn't know what to do.

This kid was freaking me out.

"So, what are the schools like here?" Louis continued. "Mom moved around a lot, so I've been exposed to several different curricula."

I searched my mind for info on his mother. I didn't think I'd ever dated anyone as smart as this kid. Where did the brains come from?

"Romi seems nice. Although a little young. I'm used to older companions."

Companions? What kind of six-year-old referred to other kids as companions? I rolled my eyes. "Used to spending time with physicists and philosophers, are you?" What kind of six-year-old referred to other kids as companions? I rolled my eyes. "Used to spending time with physicists and philosophers, are you?"

Then Louis did something that made my heart sink. He narrowed his eyes and frowned. I'd seen that expression all my life on my grandmother's, mother's, and sister's faces. My God. My God. He really was my son. The realization was too much. All the blood that should have been flowing to my cock ( He really was my son. The realization was too much. All the blood that should have been flowing to my cock (hear that, you stupid prick?) drained to my feet. Which was how I ended up in a clump on the floor.

Chapter Six.

"Blinded by the light. Remmed up like a docent in the humble of the might."

-Paul, The Vacant Lot The Vacant Lot

Mom and Gin showed up later that night with shopping bags full of clothes, toys, and more presents than I had ever gotten. Of course, they were for Louis. While Mom bathed him and tucked him into my old guest room, Gin lectured me on what I needed to do to register him for school the next day.

"You should get to Kennedy Elementary early so they can show you around and he can sit in on a class." Gin was focused. This was her thing. Gin was even in the PTA.

"I don't know. I was thinking of taking him to the hospital."

My sister looked alarmed. "Why? Is he sick?"

"No. I just thought I'd get a head start on the paternity test."

Gin frowned and narrowed her eyes-just like Louis had. They could be mother and son. I gulped.

"Dak! That boy is your son. His mother just died. If you run him in for the tests tomorrow, he'll think you don't want him."

"I don't want him!" I cried.

Gin responded with a right cross to my jaw. She was good. That was going to leave a mark.

She crossed her arms over her chest. Uh-oh. Uh-oh. "You, little brother, are going to grow up, once and for all. You were stupid enough to ignore birth control, and now you're gonna be a man or I will kill you." I was pretty sure she meant it. "You, little brother, are going to grow up, once and for all. You were stupid enough to ignore birth control, and now you're gonna be a man or I will kill you." I was pretty sure she meant it.

"What's all the yelling out here?" Mom came out of my guest . . . um, Louis's room, that same Louisy scowl on her face. "I just got him to sleep. What is wrong with you two?"

Gin threw her arms up in the air and dropped into a chair. I thought that looked like a good idea, so I sat on the couch.

"I think you'd better stay the night, Mom." I was pretty sure she'd turn me down. But I was way over my head here.

"Of course," she responded. Apparently I'd underestimated her maternal instincts. I gave her a dazzling smile.

"Don't pull that shit with me, Dakota." She sighed. "I'm doing this because I'm afraid if I don't, you'll sneak off to the bars tonight, leaving my grandson alone."

She can read minds? You know, that explains so much.

"Well, thanks for that vote of confidence," I responded.

"So. You're a father now," Gin said. "What are you going to do to take care of my nephew?"

I looked at the two most important women in my life. Mom, who coddled and spoiled me. Gin, who taught me how to sight a sniper rifle and used to beat up my bullies. And who very recently saved my life. Damn. Damn. I was totally screwed. I was totally screwed.

"I'll take him to school tomorrow. Then, this weekend, I'll find something for us to do together. Get to know him, that kind of thing." I sounded mature, but really I was just saying what I thought they wanted to hear.

"I think this will be good for you, Dak," Gin said as she picked up her jacket from the back of the couch. "Maybe you'll grow up." She kissed Mom on the cheek and made it out the door before I could say something cutting and witty. I don't know what that would have been, but if I had something, I would've said it.

Mom brought her duffel bag in from the car and in minutes had changed into jammies. She took my room (it was closer to Louis), and I had the couch.

I'd bought the sofa for its makeoutability. I've never had to sleep on it. Oh, well. I had a son now. It was time to make sacrifices. As I lay there, uncomfortable as hell, I thought that at least I'd given Mom what she wanted. Maybe she'd back off on the whole notion of me getting married. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all. I got the kid without the work.

"When are you going to give Louis a mother?"

I woke up to find Carolina Bombay standing over me. I looked at the clock: three forty-five a.m.

"Jeez, Mom! Go to bed!" I was pissed. I'd been in the middle of a dream where I was being bathed by naked Nordic women. And they were giggling. A lot.

Mom sighed her eternal sigh of martyrdom (after almost forty years, she really had it down) and padded off to my room. Fortunately I was able to pick up the dream again. Unfortunately we'd apparently gotten past the sex and were all fully clothed. Thanks, Mom. Thanks, Mom.

I got up a few hours later and sat in the kitchen with a cup of black coffee. It was way too early for Louis or Mom to be up, but I couldn't sleep.

My masculinity was in serious trouble, and I knew it. In the last few days I'd had erectile dysfunction twice, fainted, and gotten socked on the jaw by my sister and bullied by Mom. My life was completely messed up, and I didn't have anyone I could kill . . . I mean blame. Now all I had was no sex life, actual marketing work for the family, and a son. What the hell?

It was obvious that Gin wouldn't take Louis and raise him. She'd been my best shot. Maybe Mom would, but then, she would've taken him home last night. I walked down the hall to my guest . . . I mean son's room. The walls were covered with airplanes, trains, and cars. How in the hell did they wallpaper that room without my knowing? That was creepy.

My eyes rested on Louis. He looked pretty cute all curled up and sleeping. I know this will sound weird, but I do love kids. Romi has me wrapped around her cute little finger. I just thought I had more time for fatherhood. And I kind of expected a kid who talked like a kid, not Einstein.

Louis sighed and rolled over. He looked so small. I remembered that he was here because his mom was dead. The guilt hit me harder than Gin's right cross. This little kid was holding up well, especially being with the dad he'd never known. I should cut him some slack. He wasn't really responsible for my problems.

I didn't know how long I stood there watching him, but it must have been a while, because the doorbell rang. The Thomas the Tank Engine clock said seven a.m.

Gin and Romi pushed past me through the doorway and raced off to Louis's room. Obviously they both thought I was completely useless. I followed them to find Mom fully dressed (how the hell did she do that in the time it took me to answer the door?), with Gin choosing Louis's clothes. Louis and Romi were in the kitchen having cereal for breakfast. I must move in slow motion, I thought to myself. Either that or I was experiencing a blackout. How did these women move so damned fast?

So, being totally ignored, I showered and dressed. At eight a.m. we rolled out like some Secret Service caravan-Gin's black minivan, my black SUV, and Mom's black Town Car. In minutes we pulled up in front of Kennedy Elementary.

"Here are some forms that need to be filled out by the parent," Mrs. White, the secretary, informed me. Mr. Steuland took Louis down to his new classroom. Gin had just returned from dropping Romi at her class, and Mom stared at me as if she thought I was about to sprout two new heads.

I turned toward the paperwork. How hard could this be? Full name. Um. Um. Louis Torvald-Bombay. Middle name? Louis Torvald-Bombay. Middle name? Shit. Shit. Tripped up by the second question. That couldn't be good. I looked up at Gin and Mom, but they wouldn't know either. I'd just skip that. Address-no problem. Parents' information-easy. Date of birth. Tripped up by the second question. That couldn't be good. I looked up at Gin and Mom, but they wouldn't know either. I'd just skip that. Address-no problem. Parents' information-easy. Date of birth. Uh-oh. Uh-oh. I could just make that up, I guessed. But that would make me look stupid when Louis corrected me (and I was pretty sure he would). I could just make that up, I guessed. But that would make me look stupid when Louis corrected me (and I was pretty sure he would).

I tried to skip some, but the questions just got harder. Social Security number? Kids had those? I hadn't gotten one until I turned twelve. Physical ailments? Should I put overdeveloped brain? Medical history and shots? Dental exam? I was so screwed.

"Um"-I looked up at Mrs. White-"can I take this home with me and bring it back?" Mom and Gin looked at each other as if they knew I couldn't do it.

"Certainly, Mr. Bombay." Mrs. White smiled. "Your sister explained the situation. I imagine you have paperwork on your son at home. Just bring it in tomorrow morning."

Gin scolded me on the way out to the car. "You don't know his birthday?" She stopped walking and looked back at the school. "They aren't supposed to let him attend school without a physical."

I was getting sick of her. "Don't go back there and tell them that! I have five hours to myself today, and I need it."

She turned toward me. "This is not all about you!"

"Just shut up, Gin!" Oooh. Oooh. Oscar Wilde I ain't. Oscar Wilde I ain't.

"I could just kill you for being so irresponsible!" she yelled.

"I should kill you just for hitting me yesterday!" I shouted back.

"Knock it off or I'll kill both of you," Mom hissed. That worked-mainly because we knew she could. And she'd make it hurt, too. There was no quarter given where Mom was concerned.

The three of us stormed off to our cars, agreeing to meet back at the school at three p.m. I went home and called that pencil neck who dropped off my son, wondering if the Council would allow me to kill him for not telling me my son's middle name. Priorities Priorities, I told myself. Get the paperwork first-kill him later. Get the paperwork first-kill him later.