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“I’d like to be the judge of that myself. I mean, he was my father,” I said firmly.
“And you were lucky not to grow up under his roof. He was abusive, physically and mentally, to us,” Logan stated.
“I thought Rhonda didn’t grow up with you?” I said, puzzled by his use of the wordus.
“She didn’t. We were six children growing up in his house. Four brothers, and one sister.”
My stomach did flips. I couldn’t comprehend what he was saying. “I have more siblings?”
“Half siblings. They share the same father, but different mothers,” he replied.
“Mothers? How many different mothers?” I asked.
Logan sighed. “It really doesn’t matter.”
“It might,” I said.
“Even Rhonda doesn’t know all the details. It’s…private. Just know that you have more family than you realize. And evidently, so do we. What I can tell you is about our father. And why you were not raised with Rhonda.”
“I would like to know that,” I affirmed.
“This is only my assumption, but I believe it to be true,” Logan began. “Our father had a very strong dislike for women. And if you question that, all you would need to do is speak to Zoey, our sister. I can confirm that he physically abused our mother. After she had me, Mom was going to be sent back home. Somehow, she got away and was unable to be located. She was pregnant with the two of you, and our father didn’t know. She knew that if he ever found her she’d pay a horrible price. And if he learned that he had another son, he would take you away from her,” he said.
“What about Rhonda?” I asked.
“He would’ve left her. He never wanted daughters, just sons,” Logan stated.
“But you have a sister – Zoey? Why did he keep her?” I asked.
“I was young, but I remember how upset he was when she was born. I think he would’ve sent her away too, but it was too late. We had seen her,” he explained.
“Are you saying that he fathered children with multiple women, kept the children he wanted, and sent the others away with their mothers?” I asked.
Logan nodded.
“That’s fucked up. What kind of sick bastard does that?” I asked, feeling sick to my stomach.
“Now you understand why I say you’re lucky you weren’t raised by him. He had us, but he didn’t love us. He was raising us to be his legacy, but nothing more than that. He controlled every detail of our lives, from who we associated with to where we went to school. None of us were free until we were adults. It was pure hell, and not one of us shed a tear when he died,” Logan said.
I turned to Rhonda, who was holding Phil’s hand. “It’s true, Colton. I guess that’s why I treat Lindsay a little bit differently than my boys. Because of what our father did to the women in his life. To our mother,” she said softly.
I never got to meet either one of them. Even though I hear horrible things about him, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him. I needed to know more, but I could tell that Logan wasn’t going to share it with me.
“What was his name?” I asked.
“James Henderson,” Logan replied.
“Henderson.” I finally knew my real birth name.
“I haven’t told the rest of the family about you yet. I know you’re flying back to South Dakota today. Would you consider staying the week so you can meet everyone?” Logan asked.
“I wish I could, but I have to be back at work tomorrow. Maybe we can make arrangements for me to return next weekend?” I suggested.
Rhonda smiled. “I’d like that very much. This visit has probably been overwhelming, but I am not ready to say goodbye to you again. We can’t make up for all the years we missed, but I want you to be part of our lives going forward. This might not sound true, based on what you have just heard, but this is a wonderful, loving, family. Bennett Stone finding me filled a void in my soul. Even though I wasn’t raised with them, I’ve been welcomed as though I was.”
I’m just not sure I want to be.
I had dreamed about what my real parents might be like. They’d have regrets about giving me up for adoption. They’d want to know all about me. I wasn’t liking the reality at all.Rhonda says they are not like James Henderson. But how do I know?
