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“We’re working on it.” Pointing with my head, I indicated she should follow me inside. We made peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches. Dana slipped potato chips inside hers, just like she used to do when we were kids.
We took our lunch outside and ate on the Adirondack chairs. Deeogee rested at our feet, gnawing on a toy bone. It was a warm September day, but the cool breeze whispered that we’d better enjoy our time outdoors while we could.
After we finished eating, Dana asked about Kyle again. I was glad for the question because it allowed me to put off talking about Hank.
“We’re seeing a lot of each other, but I can’t let him move in unless I know with certainty that I can be a good mother to the baby.”
“You absolutely can,” Dana said.
I stared off toward the mountain. Some of the leaves on the trees at the top had turned an orangey red. Despite the beauty of fall in New England, this time of year always made me sad. Everything was dying.
“How do you know that?”
“Because I know you.”
Not as well as you think you do,I thought. I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders, preparing to tell her about the enormous secret our parents had kept from us. “I have to tell you something.”
“Okay.” She responded without thinking. I wondered if after I told her this information that would ruin everything she believed about our family, she would wish I’d kept the secret to myself.
Below me, Deeogee had fallen asleep. He was lying on his back with his four legs sticking up in the air. He looked as uncomfortable as I felt.
“It’s about Hank.”
“Nikki, you have to let it go. Really.”
“He ... he’s my father.”
Dana smirked. “Very funny.”
“It’s why Aunt Izzie didn’t want us going through those boxes with the old photo albums. There were pictures of him and Mom together. They dated all through high school.”
Dana’s posture straightened. “You’re serious.”
My head felt like it weighed two hundred pounds as I nodded.
“Mom and Hank were a couple?”
“From eighth grade until they graduated high school.”
“So why did she marry Dad?”
I told her the story about how Hank had left for New York and our mother never told him she was pregnant because she wanted him to focus on his hockey career. I didn’t tell her about the lie our father told because I didn’t want to make him look bad.
She listened without speaking or moving. I wasn’t even sure she was breathing. When I finished, she hunched down to pat Deeogee. He got up and sat down in front of her. She wrapped him up in a hug. After a minute or so, a slow smile spread across her face. “So you’re my sista from another mista.” She elbowed me. “Mom and Hank, doing the nasty. Can you imagine?”
I blocked my eyes with my hands. “Stop.”
We both burst out laughing.
“You have to admit Hank is hot. Certainly hotter than Dad.”
After all that time I’d worried about telling her, she was making a joke about it. I should have known.
“Do you think they ever hooked up after?”
“Dana!”
Her expression turned serious, and she sat up straight. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that you saw that photo album now and learned that Hank’s your father.”
