Robert looked exhausted.
“Her name is Ariella.”
“I didn’t ask her name.”
“She’s 23.”
“You’re not really answering my question.”
“She’s my granddaughter.”
I actually laughed.
“Your what?”
“My granddaughter.”
“Robert, we have three grandchildren. I know all of them.”
His face tightened. “There’s another one.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Whose child?”
He swallowed. “My son’s.”
Was he losing his mind?
“You don’t have a son. We only have two daughters.”
“I didn’t know I did.”
I stepped back.
Robert reached toward me.
“Don’t touch me.”
I said, “Start talking.”
So he did.
Before he met me, Robert dated a woman named Helen.
They dated for less than a year.
Robert was 22.
They broke up.
He moved away for work.
A few months later, he met me.
Robert never knew that Helen was pregnant when they separated.
She never told him.
She had a son. Mike was his name.
“And your granddaughter told you all this?”
