TUESDAY NIGHT
The skeletons in my closet didn’t just rattle, they danced, bones clanging like a symphony so everyone could hear. And now they were loose, twirling in sinister pirouettes around my bedroom.
‘Dad isn’t … he isn’t my dad?’ Ryan grimaced like the words tasted sour on his tongue. He pushed away from me on the bed and his body shook as he wept. I cradled him in my arms. He was still my little boy, would always be my little boy, no matter how much taller than me he grew.
His world had just been rocked sideways, and I had no idea how to stabilize it.
‘I wanted to tell you for so long, but it’s a difficult part of my past, honey. I didn’t know how to tell you. Your father doesn’t even really know the details.’
‘I don’t understand. Did you cheat on him?’
‘No! No, of course not. I met your dad when you were two years old. He was so amazing with you and fell in love with you instantly, so when we started to get serious, I asked if he’d be willing to be your father. In every sense of the word. I wanted him to embrace you as his own. Of course he was thrilled with that – he’d always wanted a son, and that was that. He adopted you the first chance he got. But technically, he isn’t your biological father. Your biological father was a piece of shit who I never wanted to tell you about. The only good thing about that man was that he gave me you.’
I stopped, unwilling to let the memory torment me again. I was done wrestling with demons today. There was a long pause, and Ryan finally looked up at me. The sharp iron in his eyes had been pounded smooth, replaced with forgiveness.
‘Why do you say he was a bad person? What did he do?’
I would never tell him. It wasn’t something he should ever know – that his mother was raped, that he was the product of violence. What possible benefit could anyone get from that?
‘He was a sleazy guy who preyed on women. I should never have slept with him, but like I said, I got you out of it, so I have no regrets.’
‘What if he changed? What if he’s a good guy now?’
‘Honey, some people don’t change. Men like him don’t change. They take what they want from the world and then spit the rest out. If I could erase him from this earth, I would. But I can’t.’
‘Can I at least meet him? I think I have a right to know who my biological father is.’
He was eighteen. He could do whatever he wanted. But meeting Geoffrey meant excavating the truth. It wasn’t his truth to explore. It was mine, and I wanted to keep it that way.
‘Ry, I wish I could agree to that, but I simply can’t. That man hurt me. He doesn’t deserve to know you. Please, for me, let it go.’
‘Mom, I don’t know that I can do that.’
As I weighed his headstrong words, Willow stepped into the bedroom carrying her lacrosse uniform. She had heard too much, based on the confused look she wore.
‘What’s going on?’ she asked.
Ryan wiped his tears, and I stood up to guide Willow back out the door, bribing her with a snack.
‘Nothing, sweetie. We’re just having a private conversation about something. How about I make you some popcorn then it’s bedtime, okay? It’s a school night.’
‘Okaaay.’ But it was too late. Her curiosity was piqued. ‘Doesn’t sound like nothing.’
‘Just some school stuff we’re dealing with. Go on, scoot. You too, Ryan. Before Collette wakes up.’
I shooed the kids out the door, heading for the kitchen. On the way down the hall Willow handed me her lacrosse uniform.
‘Can you clean this by tomorrow? I need it for a scrimmage.’
‘By tomorrow? It’s getting late. I was about to head to bed.’
‘Sorry, I forgot to give it to you earlier,’ she whined.
‘Honey, next time don’t wait until the last minute. I’ve got to sleep tonight too, you know.’ I kissed her forehead and ushered her to the living room to watch some television while I nudged Ryan into the pantry. I couldn’t risk him poking around in our past, my past.
‘Look,’ I whispered, ‘I don’t want you to meet him right now. Let me think about it, okay?’
‘At least tell me his name. Please, Mom?’
‘I don’t know …’ I wavered.
‘You drop this bomb on me that my dad isn’t my dad. You owe me a name.’
‘Ry, I’m only looking out for you. You don’t want to know him. He’s nothing to you and I’d like to keep it that way.’
‘Fine, I’ll ask your friends. I’m sure they know, don’t they?’
He could be impossible sometimes. The last thing I wanted him doing was asking them questions.
‘There’s a lot you don’t know, Ryan, a lot I don’t want you to know for good reason. It’s not just about you – it’s about me too. Why can’t you let it rest?’
‘Could you, if you were in my position? If you just found out your father was someone you’ve never met, wouldn’t you want to know who he was? Please, just a name. I promise I won’t do anything without talking to you first. I just want to know his name.’
I couldn’t deny him this request. Ryan was persistent, if anything. I first discovered that about him when he was five years old and he attempted to hitchhike to the North Pole to find out for himself if Santa Claus was real. It was a terrible, horrible decision, but I spoke the name I hadn’t uttered for years: ‘Geoffrey Faust.’
A flash of Geoffrey’s face collided with the name on my tongue, but I willed it away.
‘But don’t forget your promise, Ryan. Don’t go contacting him without talking to me first. Anything we do, we’ll do together. And I want your father’s input too. He’d be really hurt if he knew you were looking up that sperm donor asshole without talking to him about it.’
‘I promise, Mom.’
But if there was one thing our family was good at, it was breaking promises.