Published by Dwayne Albert Bearup at Smashwords
Copyright 2012 Dwayne Albert Bearup
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The day he found the baby girl in his shed, he dreamt of his pregnant wife’s murder. The child had his wife’s grey eyes and curly red hair. While bathing her in the kitchen sink he found she also had his wife’s birthmark - a teardrop just above her left hip.
He wanted to keep her, claim her as his own and to hell with everyone. If he had been a woman he might have got away with it by claiming to have birthed her at home, alone. But nobody would have believed he found her in his shed. Despite the baby-shaped stain of after-birth showing she had been born there, there would have been questions. (He had thought of a few himself, but felt no concern for the answers.) So instead he told the social worker he found Dorothy on his doorstep.
He merely shrugged, unwilling to retract the impulsive naming.
For a moment he thought she might ask how he knew the child’s name, but she merely made a note on the form, and said, “Didn’t know you were Greek, Mister O’Hara.”