"They can do that?" Kara's first reaction when she arrived home and heard Derek's suggestion was skepticism. She knew about tests for paternity, but for cousins?
Craig had researched it by the time she arrived home, though. "They can," he replied. "Take a look."
He stood and gave her the computer chair. She scanned the three web pages he had left open. They were very clear: first cousins, second cousins, aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews—all could be tested for kinship, with decreasing degrees of certainty as the distance of the relationship widened.
"Zach would be a second cousin once—no, first cousin…" Second cousins and cousins removed were so hard to keep straight.
"First cousin once removed, if he's Elliott's," Craig explained. "I figure that if they can do second cousins…"
"…they should be able to give us some idea how he's related to you." She considered the idea another moment. "How much does it cost?"
"I hadn't checked that yet." Craig clicked a link, and a chart with options and costs appeared. Scrolling down, he located the price of the test they would need.
"Wow," Kara said. "$800 and up… That's a lot of money for people like us."
Craig's face fell. "I didn't think it would be so much." He turned toward her. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea."
"No," she countered immediately with unexpected conviction. "No, we have to do it, Craig. There's no better way—" She glanced back to the kitchen, where the boy was preparing tacos; he had asked Craig if he could cook dinner tonight, and tacos were what he knew how to make. He was browning meat in the skillet, but with an ear turned toward her and Craig. She lowered her voice. "There's no better way to prove the birth certificate is wrong."
Craig nodded.
"Besides, he needs answers, too. He's completely convinced we're his parents…and more so everyday."
Craig considered for a few seconds, then nodded again. "All right, let's call them first thing in the morning."
"Okay," Kara agreed. They would take a hit financially in the short-term, but looking up again at the boy now slicing tomatoes on the cutting board, her resolve increased. The boy needed to be where he truly belonged. He needed a home—and soon, before she decided that, like a lost puppy, she could keep him.