The plows used each side
of the road to pile snow.
Ephrata was a small town
tucked inside a farming community.
I arrived home from work.
I set my keys on the coffee table
and moved to the kitchen.
The lantern that hung above
the kitchen table was on.
Something, I didn’t know what,
had me entangled with mercy.
But mercy and I had never seen eye to eye.
I flipped through envelopes when one stuck out.
A paternity test result.
I fiddled with the envelope.
Flames popped over maple logs
in the fireplace.
I had time to throw the results
in the fire, and no one
would be the wiser.
I used my fingernail to open it,
and I unfolded the letter.
I inhaled the fresh ink
and brushed the glossy page.
I studied the paternity test
with my glasses resting on the edge of my nose.
I dragged my finger across the crisp page as I read it.
Was the result revenge for Sammy?
A woman I’d run into twenty years ago
said I was her child’s father.
I used to drink.
A woman I didn’t know said we had an affair.
And later, a video surfaced that provided credence to my innocence.
She looked over her shoulders, sprinkling a substance in my drink.
I paid support but didn’t get to see the child much.
Laurinda didn’t believe me until we saw the tape last week.
The woman’s defense attorney paid the woman
who recorded the tape to remain silent.
I wondered where Laurinda got her nest egg from.
It escaped my imagination that she
was the one there that night, recording us.
At the time, Laurinda was insecure.
She thought I cheated, which I never did.
I drank a lot, but that was in the past.
I worked my fingers to the bones.
My hands wore calluses.
Crude oil stained my blue jeans.
And I scrubbed my hands with Lava soap.
During the day, I repaired cars at my shop.
I supported Laurinda and Michelle.
My solace sheltered the enemy with comfort.
I terrorized my self-esteem
over what I did.
to give Laurinda the benefit
of the doubt.
I gave her a free pass to do
what I knew she did.
The recompense of my sin returned
the favor of infidelities by unfolding
the pain caused when partners
break their vows.
The horror of labeling emotions
on a sticky note, cascaded waves
of my question in the mercy
humanity embedded in me.
But the pride you left behind
taught you more about kindness
than arrows of poisonous words,
landing against your heart.
Michelle wasn’t mine.
We assembled a family meeting
over the truth.
We spilled our guts.
The frustration boiled off our tongues.
And we pushed harsh words across our teeth.
But love aced this test.
We dusted out the secrets in our closets.
Michelle hugged me like she
did as a little girl
and told me not to be mad at her.
I brushed my hand across her cheek.
I told her to stop crying
like I did when she was a kid.
She smiled, and we sobbed.
Laurinda waved her hands.
Laurinda said she didn’t know what
mercy was until she met me.
And love won over the truth.
Michelle had me walk her down the aisle
as her father.
Mercy me.