He glances around the kitchen as if they might be hiding somewhere.
“I take it they’ve gone?” he says.
“For now.”
“What can I do?” He searches my face, still looking for signs that I’m hurt, injured in some way, but there’s nothing to see onmy face. My turmoil is internal, my insides feeling like they’ve been wrenched out of me, rearranged, and then stuffed back inside.
“What is there to do? What do you do when you discover your whole childhood is a fucking lie? Do you know what bothers me the most, apart from the fact that Ed never told me he was looking into our family or what he’d already found out? That I have no idea who William Bransby is and why he’s pretended to be our father for all these years.”
“Why don’t you ask him?” Valdemar picks up my phone from the table and hands it to me. “No time like the present.”
My stomach squirms, but he’s right. This can’t wait. I need answers.
The irony of searching for his name—“Dad”—in my contacts isn’t lost on me. He may not have been the greatest dad in the world, but to me, he’s always been my father. How do I even begin to unthink something like that?
The call connects and the phone rings as I select speaker, not wanting to hear what he has to say by myself.
“Evangeline.” My dad’s voice, William’s voice, echoes through my kitchen.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Are you okay?” he says.
“Not really. Look, I don’t want to draw this out. I just have some questions for you, and I would appreciate the truth.” I try to sound firm, try to dig out my journalist voice, but this isn’t work. This is my life.
“Sounds ominous.” He laughs nervously, and I wonder how long he’s been contemplating this moment.
I get straight to the point. “You’re not my biological father, are you?”
There’s a shaky silence before he answers, his voice soft and low. “No, I’m not.”
“I know about Ellison Rue, but I need you to tell me exactly what happened to avoid me having a mental breakdown.” I push my hair back, feeling like that breakdown has already begun.
There’s a rustle down the phone line, and I imagine my dad swapping the handset to his other ear or adjusting his posture.
“Before I tell you, and I will, I need you to know that I love you. I’ve always loved you and Ed, and I know I’ve not been the best of fathers. I tried to do the best I could for you both, but it was hard.” He clears his throat. “God, I’ve been dreading this conversation, but now it’s here, I’m actually quite relieved. Are you sure you want to do this over the phone?” he asks.
“I’ve waited thirty-three years, and if this was a film, this would be the part where you jump in a car to come and reveal the truth and get hit by lightning before you reach me, so no. Tell me now, please.”
“Of course. I suppose I better start at the beginning. You got a stiff drink?”
Chewing the side of my lip, I watch as Valdemar opens the cupboards until he finds a bottle of whisky, then takes a cup from the draining board. He pours a slug and hands it to me.
“Yes,” I reply, and he begins.
“I met Ellison Rue in my twenties when I was working for the medical firm his brother had set up. Ellison was the one who inducted me, introduced me to my new team, and settled me into the company. He was ten years my senior, and I looked up to him. He was nice, unlike his brother, who was cold as ice. Anyway, the years went by, and Ellison and I became close friends, both in and out of work. He became more than just a boss. And there was a time when I thought we could have been closer, but it wasn’t meant to be.”
Closer.That word dances in my brain. Little things begin to fall into place. The reason why he never seemed to move on after losing my mother, why he didn’t even date anyone. And I alwaysthought it was because no one could ever replace her, that he could never love anyone other than her. But this? This feels like it should be a huge revelation, like I should be shocked by it, that he was in love with a man, but for some reason, it doesn’t feel new; it feels like it’s always been there, and I’ve just never seen it.
“After about nine years of working for him, Ellison met Lenore in a bar where she was working as a waitress. Lenore was beautiful, and not just in a glamorous way. She exuded this aura that affected everyone around her. Even I could appreciate the effect she had on both men and women, so it came as no surprise when Ellison told me he’d fallen in love with her. She had no family, had been left at birth on the steps of the local hospital and had bounced around the welfare system from foster home to foster home until becoming an adult, so it was no wonder she fell for Ellison, this great man, someone who finally wanted her, loved her, and offered her the chance of happiness.”
There’s a pause, as if my dad is gathering the words he’s held on so tightly to and is now finally setting free.
“Then she got pregnant. Lenore was thirty-nine, Ellison forty-two, and I think they thought this might be the last chance they would have to start a family. Victor wasn’t happy. He told Ellison he was rushing into things and that having a child would interfere with the running of the business. But Ellison paid no attention to Victor.
“It was a difficult pregnancy due to it being twins and Lenore being classed as an older mother. She was constantly ill, in and out of the hospital with no end of problems right up until the final weeks, when they decided that you and Ed were at risk if they didn’t bring on the labour. So, they took Lenore in to induce her, and Ellison went with her. He said he would call me once the babies had been born. I waited for him to call to say that everyone was healthy and that they were the proud parents of twins.”
There’s a silence down the line, but I wait, hanging on his every word.
