Paternity Suits Don't Always Fit Right

Sitting in the cafeteria at Schuyler Square College, Vlad took a large bit out of a cinnamon roll and sighed deeply. He loved cafeteria food. It was always fresh, usually warm and came in such huge amounts. Vlad wouldn't mind eating in the school's cafeteria for every single meal.

Slowly, he finished his cinnamon roll. So far, Vlad was enjoying being back in Schuyler Square. The town was smaller than what he was used to but the people were friendly and his job at Schuyler Square College was beyond easy. Teaching chemistry to a bunch of students who didn't have even a nodding relationship with the table of elements spelled long term job security to Vlad.

Then there was his daughter. Or the girl he was pretty sure was his daughter.

Vlad's handsome face frowned as he thought about the reception he'd gotten from Tiffany. Or rather, hadn't gotten from Tiffany. The teenager simply refused to acknowledge that he might be her biological father. Vlad wasn't sure what he should do. A blood test was the obvious answer but Vlad kept on running into brick walls when it came to getting Tiffany and Tom Hartman to agree to be tested.

"You look like you've got a lot on your mind."

Looking up from his table in the cafeteria, Vlad saw Mavis Schuyler standing next to his table. "I do," he replied. "How delightful to see you, Mavis." He was happy to see Mavis. While the people of Schuyler Square were friendly, Mavis was most definitely the friendliest.

"Mind if I join you?" Not waiting for Vlad's response, Mavis wiggled into the chair across from him. "Mmmm, that looks good," she said, nodding toward the crumbs of the cinnamon roll that remained on Vlad's plate.

"Would you like one? I'd be happy to get one for you."

"No, thank you. Just smelling a cinnamon roll makes me gain weight. I'm glad I found you, Vlad. I have marvelous news."

"What is it?"

"A good friend of mine owns a chemical company in town and I told him all about you. He'd like to meet you."

"Why?"

"To talk about a job, silly. Why else would he want to meet you?"

"I have a job, Mavis."

Mavis smiled knowingly. "You teach at Schuyler Square College. My late husband was on the board of directors. I know you aren't making big bucks here."

"There's more to life than money, Mavis."

"Oh, really? What?" Mavis laughed. "At least talk to the man. I'm sure you're a brilliant chemist, Vlad. You should be paid what you're worth."

Vlad had to agree with Mavis. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to meet your friend."

"Wonderful! His name is Bernard Morton and he'll be expecting your call."

Vlad returned her smile a bit nervously. While he liked the idea of making more money, he didn't want to anything that would mess up his life in Schuyler Square. Being back was his second chance and he didn't want to blow it.

Schuyler Square Day 18 Ron Isn't Feeling Too Well

Ron Schuyler was pretty sure that he was aging faster than the average man in his fifties ought to be aging, which struck him as totally unfair. What was the point in being rich if it couldn’t guarantee him at the very least a healthy, stress-free middle age? But that didn’t seem to be in the cards for Ron, especially since the arrival of Veronica Channing in Schuyler Square. And now her son.

Correction: their son.

The pain in Ron’s stomach increased. It was probably an ulcer but he was in no mood to have it checked out and hear from the family doctor how he needed to go on cholesterol meds or start exercising more or have major surgery. He had enough on his mind without hearing that now his body was falling apart too.

Ron glanced at his desk calendar. Veronica had been back in town for a little over a month. She’d returned right before Lynnette died. Ron had never been too big on omens or signs but even he had to admit that Veronica's arrival and Lynnette's departure seemed to be too coincidental for comfort. Ron and his sister had never been close but having Lynnette die so suddenly shocked him. Lynnette's demise underscored the fact that he could--would--die someday too. Ron had chosen to deny his own mortality for so long that he really didn't appreciate being reminded of it so bluntly.


Then there was Kirk Channing coming to town. No wonder his stomach hurt. It was all too much for Ron to take and although he was fairly certain that no one else had figured out that the tall, good-looking Kirk was his son, it was playing hell with his nerves. It didn’t help that his niece was living with them too. Not that he saw all that much of Tiffany—other than when he went into the kitchen where the girl had apparently taken up permanent residence—but it still annoyed him to have an extra person around. He felt like his nerves were fraying faster than a cheap pair of Madras shorts and he didn’t like the sensation. Not one bit. Ron was used to being in control. 


Then there were the dreams he'd been having about Veronica, dreams that all too clearly reminded him of what the two of them had shared in bed. Veronica had been a fantastic lover, far warmer and more giving than Mavis had ever been. Knowing Veronica was back in town was making Ron wonder if he should try and rekindle those long ago flames.


Dear God, was he nuts? What was he thinking? Those flames would devour him now. He wasn't a kid any longer. If he managed to start things up with Veronica again and Mavis found out he had no doubts that his wife would destroy both of them

“Ron?” Mavis appeared in the doorway, startling him. “Are you ready?”

Ron squinted at his wife. “Ready for what?” Mavis appeared to be dressed for an evening out. She was wearing a long black skirt and a wildly patterned blouse in shades of red and pink and orange that made him feel slightly sick to his stomach plus all her heavy duty jewelry that she only wore when she went to the Schuyler Square Country Club or to a coronation.

“The fundraising dinner at the club,” Mavis reminded him.

“What are you raising money for now?” Ron asked irritably. He'd love to see the books on the money Mavis and her crew raised. He had the feeling that the charities they were supposedly supporting saw precious little of it.

“Ron, I told you already. For the policeman’s retirement dance that I’m helping organize.”

Vaguely, Ron remembered Mavis blathering about some dance that she was organizing but, like with most of the things his wife blathered about, he had only half listened. “I don’t want to go out tonight. You go without me.”

Steeling himself for an argument—You have to come with me, Ron! You promised—this is important to me—we always go to fundraisers together—Ron was pleasantly surprised when Mavis didn’t bat a false eyelash at him. “All right,” she said. “Don’t wait up for me.”

“You aren’t going to try and change my mind?”

The smile Mavis gave him was ingenuous. “Why would I want to do that, darling? I can see you have a lot on your mind. I’ll see you later.”

His wife leaned down to kiss him on the top of his head. “You’re wearing different perfume,” he said, surprised. Mavis had been wearing Joy for as long as he could remember.

“It’s called The Bolt of Lightening. Do you like it?”

“Sure,” Ron said. Actually the scent made him feel a little uneasy but that might have been more the name than the smell since he felt like he might get struck with lightening at any moment. “Have a good time.”

Mavis vanished without another word but the smell of her new perfume lingered in the den for awhile, making Ron even more uneasy. Somewhat was up with Mavis, too. Was it possible that she knew about Veronica and Kirk? If she did, why hadn’t she said anything yet? Mavis had never been known for either her patience or her compassion, although Ron sort of doubted many wives would be all that compassionate when they found out about a 27-year old love child.

It was probably all his imagination. Mavis was the same Mavis she’d been since he married her. He was acting paranoid because he knew that sooner or later everything was going to come out, hit the fan and there he’d sit, covered with his past indiscretions.

It was not something Ron was looking forward to.