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“Thanks.”
I was still getting used to the idea of him as my father. To begin with, he had a huge beard and a deep, gravelly voice. He made me think of an ageing cowboy, but in a good way. A rough diamond, and at least fifteen years older than my mother. He’d insisted on fetching me from the airport, saying the drive out to the farm could be confusing for strangers. I had feared conversation would be uncomfortable, but he launched right in.
“I have to tell you; I wasn’t that surprised to hear from you.”
“Really?”
He grinned at me, a little shamefaced. “I’d heard from some of our mutual acquaintances that Ellie had gotten pregnant soon after my visit to the Big Apple. I wondered if I might be the father.” He paused. “I tried calling her, but she wouldn’t answer.”
My mother had not told me that.
“Look, she knew I was married, and our thing, was kind of a fling, I guess…”
“She never wanted to tell me who you were. I only found out your name a few days ago,” I said. “I couldn’t figure out why she’d kept it a secret?”
John nodded. “She was drop dead gorgeous back then,” he said.
I nodded. I’d seen pictures of my mother from her modeling days.
“She’s still a looker,” I said with a smile.
“I bet!” I wondered if John still carried a torch for my mother. He wouldn’t be the first.
“We’re very close,” I said. “She’s been the best mother.”
“You’re a great kid, so she must have done something right,” he said.
Then he said, “You’ve got two half siblings, Vern and Ava, you’ll meet them tonight.”
“Your wife?”
He cleared his throat. “We got divorced ten years ago. Guess she had enough of my wandering ways.”
“You cheated on her?”
“Guilty as charged, ma’am,” he tried to laugh it off, then he became serious. “Ah, I don’t know what to tell you. I did some things I’m not proud of, I’ll own up to that.”
I didn’t know what to make of him. The farm, on the outskirts of Denver, had belonged to his parents. He’d sold off some of the land and renovated the house with money from the studio, which he said had done well over the years. I had a feeling just how well, when I saw the large house and the horses in the paddock across the field.
“It’s beautiful,” I said when I got out of the car and took in the view. John smiled, proud.
Ava and Vern were waiting for us. Both were tall, like their father and Vern had short hair and a clean-cut face. Ava was shorter, with lively blue eyes, very much like my own. Both greeted me warmly, but I sensed some wariness. John showed me to the guest room, an enormous room with a bathroom and my own little porch overlooking the mountains.
“What a view! Wow!”
I was blown away by all of it.
Ava and Vern stayed for dinner, which they helped to cook with their father. It was steak and potatoes, a salad, and some pumpkin from the garden. The three of them talked the whole time, telling me about life on the farm, growing up with their parents, then after the divorce, how they moved back and forth between their parents. Both kids were in high school already and didn’t seem too traumatized by it.
But later, when I helped with the washing up, Ava said to me, “He was a good father, but a terrible husband. They were always fighting, and I remember my mother crying a lot when I was growing up. I was relieved when they decided to call it quits.”
“How is she now?”
“She got remarried to a Christian fundamentalist,” Vern said, coming into the kitchen and rolling his eyes. “It gets a bit heavy going around the house sometimes.”
“Oh, go on!” Ava shoved her brother good-naturedly, “Mom is happy!”
Vern nodded.
