Chapter Six

“I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me before,” I said, trying not to shout despite my deep-seated anger. “How long have you known we’d be coming here? You could have given me some warning. I could have got my hair done and bought a new dress and…”

“You don’t need your hair done,” Virginia said, wrapping her arms around me. “And you don’t need a new dress. You don’t need anything but you.”

Rufus must have been jealous of the attention, because he jumped up, trying to squeeze his little head between our bodies. When Virginia wouldn’t release me from the hug, our dog whimpered and pleaded and scratched at our thighs.

“Down, boy,” Steven said, and Rufus placed his sorry little head on Steven’s foot.

As Steven bowed to pet the dog, Virginia said, “Winter, your father will be pleased to see you no matter what you wear. You should know by now that sort of thing isn’t important.”

“But that’s beside the point.” It was hard to stay mad with Virginia’s warm breasts pressed against mine. “We stop outside the place we’re giving our next show, and you tell me I’m meeting my father today? That’s not enough notice.”

“Would you rather not meet your father?” Steven asked.

“No! That’s not what I’m saying. It’s just…” This was the first time since our tour began that I wished I had a room where I could go and slam my door and put on headphones and pretend my elders didn’t exist. “You should have told me earlier. That’s all I’m saying.”

“We apologize.” Steven reached for my hand, but Rufus intercepted it. “We didn’t want you thinking too much about it, considering today’s show takes place in a nursing home.”

I’d forgotten about that. A nursing home! Did that mean my father was… old? He must be. How old were we talking? Eighties? Nineties? How old was he when I was born? If he was in his eighties now, he would have been maybe sixty then. The thought made me queasy, although it wasn’t too much different from me sleeping with Steven and Virginia. My mother was well almost forty when she had me.

“We weren’t going to tell you until after the show,” Steven said. “We didn’t want to impair your performance.”

“Well, consider it impaired.” Stupid thing to say, but I stormed out of the bus, taking my only friend, Rufus, out into the nearby field. I found a good stick and we played fetch for what felt like forever. It was soothing, I supposed, because when Virginia and Steven came to tell me it was warm-up time, I felt less angry.

I still felt nervous, though. Who wouldn’t?

While we set up in the garden gazebo, a few nurses and other staff came to express their condolences on my mother’s passing. They seemed very grateful that I could come.

One of the nurses, a tall older woman, took my hand and pressed it between hers. “I knew your mother well,” she said. “It’s such a sad thing, to lose a loved one, but I’m very, very glad you’re here.”

“Thanks,” I said, offhandedly. I appreciated the sentiment, but all I could think about was meeting my father.

When we performed our afternoon show for the old people, I spent the whole time scanning the audience. I stared every man plain in the face, looking for a spark of recognition or similarity. We sang songs these people would have remembered from their youths, because Virginia said that was good for the dementia patients.

Maybe my father had Alzheimer’s! Maybe that’s why Steven and Virginia were so shady when it came to talking about him. Could be that he’d forgotten my mother even existed.

After our performance, the manager invited us for a hot meal in their main dining room. It was very nice and had a chandelier and everything. Not at all what I’d expected.

When I took a seat with Steven and Virginia, they said, “Actually, we’ve arranged for you to sit with someone special.”

My stomach tumbled. My father! It had to be my father. Now or never.

The tall nurse who’d greeted me before the show took me to a secluded table for two. From there, I couldn’t see any of the nursing home residents or Steven or Virginia. I fingered the white linens and the pretty silverware. There were things you missed when you lived on a bus.

“Please, have a seat,” the nurse said and when I did, she did too.

I thought this was strange, but maybe she was my father’s caregiver. Maybe she was going to prepare me with some harsh medical facts before the introduction.

“It’s okay,” I said, staring at the woman’s square jaw. “Whatever it is, just tell me. After all these years of not knowing my father, I’d rather get the news straight.”

She nodded, laying a napkin across her lap. She cleared her throat. “It’s hard to know where to begin.”

“Is he sick?” I asked. “Dementia? Will he know who I am?”

The nurse tilted her head and gazed at me through puzzled eyes. And then she laughed.

“What is it?” I asked. “Oh my god, is he dead?”

“Virginia and Steven really didn’t tell you a thing, did they?”

I shook my head. “Nothing at all.”

When she smiled, her lip twitched. Laugh lines grew around her eyes, making her look older than she had before. Reaching across the table, she set her large hand over mine and said, “Winter, your father isn’t a resident. Your father works here.”

I thought of the manager, but he seemed very young. Who else could it be? One of the servers who were bringing out plates of food? A doctor, perhaps? I asked, “When will I meet him?”

“Now,” said the nurse. “Right now. It’s me. I’m your father.”

What? That made no sense. How could a woman… how could… how…?

Her grip tightened around my hand, and I took notice of its bigness. The squareness of her jaw, the width of her shoulders all came into clear focus, and piece by piece the puzzle came together.

“You…?”

“I’ve changed quite a lot since your mother and I were close.”

“I looked for you online and I didn’t find anything. I couldn’t find… it’s like you just disappeared.”

“You had my old name, I’m guessing?”

“Must have been.” I stared into her eyes and saw my own reflected back at me. “What’s your name now?”

“Joanne,” she said. “Joanne Bishop. Nice to meet you.”

“Winter Green.”

We shook hands like two strangers meeting for the first time. And, really, that’s what we were. Joanne laughed and said, “Your mother always did have a strange sense of humour.”

“Tell me about it! Winter Green—I’m like a Lifesaver.”

The server brought us dinner and I ate like I’d been living on a desert island for the past six months. All the while, my father told me how she’d met my mother and formed a friendship and how things had become strained once their relationship became sexual. This was back when Nurse Joanne was a man named John.

“Virginia told me my mom thought sex ruined friendships. Maybe that’s why.”

“It wasn’t sex that ruined ours,” Nurse Joanne said as she picked at her food. “It was me. It was all my fault. I realized how unhappy I was, living as a man. I just couldn’t do it anymore, but I felt I couldn’t tell her. I thought she’d take it personally, or be upset.”

“My mom wasn’t like that,” I said. “I’m sure she would have loved you all the same.”

“Well, remember, this was twenty-five years ago. Things were different, back then.”

Sitting back before my empty plate, I said, “Wow. I can’t believe my father is a woman. Of all the things I wondered about you, this wasn’t even on the list of possibilities. It’s… wow. My biography just got interesting.”

Nurse Joanne beamed. “All these years I thought you’d hate me. That’s why I kept my distance. I thought I’d be a disappointment.”

“No!” I said. “Why?”

“Most people aren’t that accepting. Luckily, my employers are wonderful. They’ve gone to bat for me on every level—ensuring my medical coverage included hormone therapy and surgeries.”

“That’s amazing.” I reached for my father’s hand and squeezed it. “Maybe some people would have a hard time understanding, but I’m really happy for you. I guess I shouldn’t call you Dad, eh?”

She laughed. “How about Joanne?”

“Joanne.” I nodded. “I can call you Joanne, sure.”

The server came by and took our plates. Nurse Joanne had barely eaten a thing, but she said she was done. For a while, we just sat there and looked at each other. Her face seemed so familiar. She wasn’t how I’d pictured my father, but that didn’t matter. She existed. She was real, and I knew her story. That was the main thing.

“There’s pie for dessert,” she said. “Strawberry-rhubarb tonight.”

“Mmm… that’s my favourite.”

“Mine too.”

When I looked up to see if the server was coming, I noticed two shining faces watching us from around the bend. Rolling my eyes, I said, “Stop spying and come join us, if you’re so curious.”

Steven and Virginia each took a bashful step forward. “We just thought we’d check how things were going.”

“Check if there was any bloodshed?” Nurse Joanne asked.

They chuckled nervously.

“Why didn’t you just tell me my father was a woman?” I asked them. “Did you think I’d be mad or something?”

“We didn’t know how you’d react,” Virginia said.

“And we thought word should come straight from the source.” Steven stepped out of the server’s way. “We’ll leave you to your dessert. You take all the time you need, Winter. Come back to the tour bus whenever you’re ready.”

When they’d gone, I looked into the gentle face across the table. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to go back on the road now that I’ve met you. We’ve got so much catching up to do. I want to know about your whole life, from when you were a kid to when you met my mom to… well, everything up until now.”

“And I want to know about your life, too.” She scooped a piece of pie onto her fork. “But that shouldn’t stop you from touring. You’ve got a gift, young lady, just like your mother did. You need to share it with the world. I’ll be here any time you’re passing by, and I’ve got a phone and a pen and an internet connection. We’ll keep in touch.”

“We sure will,” I said, feeling more self-assured than I ever had before. “The hard part is over. The first step’s always trickiest. From here on out, it’s gonna be easy like Sunday morning.”

Joanne’s lip quivered as she held up the strawberry-rhubarb on her fork. “You’re absolutely right, Winter. Now, cheers! Eat your pie.”

I took a generous scoop onto my fork and clinked it to hers, and we toasted everything life had in store for us. And when I took that first bite, I tell you, I’d never tasted anything so sweet.

The End