My hand on Trip’s shoulder, I give him a little push to get him to go to his dad.
“Hey, little buddy. You have a good time?” Short crouches down to his height.
Trip shows how his improvement has come in leaps and bounds. His face shows pleasure as he goes forward to hug Short in an outward display of emotion he’s only recently started to display. I wonder if, like Ace, with the right help and treatment, he’ll continue to progress. I’d learned from my son never to give up on a child.
“Package delivered. I’m out of here.”
On his knees, hugging Trip, Short glances up at me. “Thank you, Brother.”
I give a mock salute. “No problem, Bro. Anytime.” For now, he can enjoy his new marital bliss. I’m sure the mysterious stranger who turned up last night will be a topic for discussionaround the table at church soon enough. None of us like strangers. For now? Let him enjoy his peace and his new wife, while he can.
I return to the SUV, and finally, Ace and I are alone. I open my mouth with the intention to ask what the fuck he thought he was doing, when he starts speaking before I can get a word out.
CHAPTER FOUR
FREAK
“Did my aunt contact you yesterday?” Ace asks, his voice animated. Glancing across at him, he’s bouncing excitedly in his seat.
Well, fuck. He’s broached the subject before I had a chance. “What the fuck were you thinking?” I growl. “You’re too fuckin’ young to submit your DNA to a database. Have you any idea how that can be used? You’re in the system now, kid.”
“I’m not going to murder anyone, and even if I did, I know how to hide the evidence.”
What the fuck?His unexpected comment has caught me off guard.Does he spend too much time at the clubhouse?
“Anyway, Dad, did my aunt contact you or not?”
His direct question has me answering truthfully. “She fuckin’ turned up at the compound.” It’s one blessing that, though I can’t seem to clean up my speech around him, Ma’s managed to teach him that “adult” words shouldn’t come out of kids’ mouths. One benefit of his tendency to take things literally.
“She did? What’s she like? She’s my mom’s twin. Does she look like her?” He can’t seem to keep still, nor stop his wordstumbling out so fast I can barely keep up with them. “I can’t wait to meet her, but she said she needed to clear it with you first. When can I see her? I never knew I had an aunt.” When I go to speak, I find he hasn’t yet finished. “Dad, I know losing Mom hurt you, but I’d really like to know about her. You’ve never told me anything, and neither has Nana.”
Ma never met her, and as for me, how do I tell him he was conceived out of lust, not love? That I had already started to regret getting involved with her when I learned he was on the way. And, on top of the list of things he doesn’t need to know is that she tried to kill him. If I hadn’t providentially walked into the house at that very moment, he wouldn’t be alive. It wasn’t even that she’d been out of her mind due to a mental illness she had no control over. She was to blame for not taking the fucking tablets the doctor had prescribed. Last but not least, how could I tell him, in order to save his life, I’d killed his mom?
Without explaining all of that, how could I voice the suspicions I had about her twin – her not being who she said for a start, and for a firm second, that she was possibly suffering from the same mental illness? Without voicing those truths, how could I justify not wanting them to have a relationship?
One benefit of him being how he is. Though in this case, it had come back to bite me in the ass - his taking things at face value. When I’d previously copped out when he’d asked about his mother by saying I didn’t want to discuss her, he dropped the subject, and hadn’t again mentioned it. Obviously, my feelings hadn’t prevented him from trying to find out for himself.
I could answer his question by saying Antoinette looks exactly like his mother, probably would if she were alive today, but the words stick in my throat. Deep down, I’d rather he not know anything about his mom or my relationship with her. It’s hardly anything to be proud of. How much would it fuck him up,to know his mom wanted him dead? And that only serendipity had saved him.
I settle for what’s happening in the present. “I’m getting your so-called aunt checked out. I never knew your mom had a twin, so I’m being cautious. Until I find out all the facts, I don’t want you contacting her.”
“She’smyaunt.” Stubbornly, he crosses his arms over his chest. “DNA proves that. You can’t stop me from seeing her.”
“I’m your dad. And I can.” I slam my hands onto the steering wheel. “You must have lied about your age when you set up an account with that DNA database. What the fuck were you thinking?”
Oblivious to my rising anger, he replies calmly, “I know about the relatives on your side. Nana’s the only one still living. Neither she nor Grandpa had siblings. So I wanted to find out if Mom had.”
Don’t call her Mom,I want to snarl at him.She doesn’t deserve that title.
“I don’t understand why you’re…” he raises his hands and dips two of his fingers on each. “‘Checking her out’. DNA doesn’t lie, and we’re a match. She’s my aunt, however much you want to deny it.”
“You’re my son,” I counter. “I don’t know fuck all about her. She could be a serial killer for all I know. Until Pippa or Genie gets me more details, I don’t want you anywhere near her.” I know that look. It’s the one that says he’s going to do what he wants. “Give me your phone.”
“What?”
I hold out my hand. “Give it to me, right now, Ace.”
He mumbles something under his breath, then reaches into his jeans, pulls the device from his pocket, and hands it over. A sideways glance shows me there’s a smirk on his face.
