Maybe that was the difference between us. Both our families were well off, died young, left fortunes behind. But that’s all my dad left behind—money. No one even liked him, least of all his son. He was strict and demanding. In his home, there was no room for error. Jules and I were perfect at everything and I was valedictorian, team captain, and class president because there were no other options. Dad made life miserable if he thought we weren’t doing our best, exuding strength, and being successful.
It’s why Jules and I finally rebelling and doing whatever we wanted ended our relationship with him. Our accolades were his accolades. Or our lack of, his lack of. When I blew off college and went to the academy, it was a personal affront to his values. Same with my divorce. He took it personally, no doubt.
The only person who ever saw his goodness was Mom. And cancer took her so young. If I thought about it too long, I’dfeel sorry for him. Maybe he was a halfway decent human before losing her. I could barely remember back that far. But if I tried, I remembered a few things. Like a fun vacation we took and Dad tossing the baseball with me. Him laughing. Him reading some classics to us at night before we went to bed. Him decorating the Christmas tree with us.
“I really wish I could’ve met Kevin. Seems like he was a fantastic guy.”
Pat smiled. “The best. He deserves full credit.”
We talked for a little bit longer. About dad life. Being there for our kids. Twins. Work stuff. I was feeling better. I had an action plan.
Solve the mystery of my wife.
Call this Hannel person.
After a while, I heard a shrill voice.
“Jack?!”
I looked up the hill to see Jules coming down, pushing a double stroller. “Hey sis!”
“I texted you back. How long have you been here?”
I stood and gave her a hug. “About an hour, I guess. Been talking to Pat.”
“Aw. You guys are bonding.”
I pulled out some sarcasm. “Aren’t we precious?”
She patted my cheek, playing right along. “Yes, you are!” Jules turned to Pat and he pulled her down on his lap. She looked in his face, lowering her voice. “You didn’t tell him, did you?”
“Of course not.”
“Should I?”
“Up to you, baby.”
I was squatting down, talking to the girls. “Wait. Tell mewhat?”
Jules was beaming. It was written all over her face.
I felt my jaw dropping. “No way.”
She nodded.
“You’ve got to be kidding me, sis.”
“You’re not even going to give me the pleasure of actually announcing it?”
“Sure, go ahead.”
“We are pregnant!” She squealed a little at the end.
“Jules, your twins are like eight months old! Was that an accident?”
“Ew. That’s kind of personal”—she curled her arm up and around Pat’s shoulder as if it drove her point—“but no. It wasn’t.”
“Wow.”
