“Maybe that’s why he went nuts,” Roxanne said.
“Yeah,” Dekker said. “Your mom had an affair with a guy she and your dad worked with. And . . . she got pregnant.”
I held my breath. Dekker continued.
“Your dad wrote that he didn’t know if he could ever forgive her for getting pregnant with another man’s child.”
I could feel Roxanne and Curt’s anxiety like an electromagnetic field.
“He told her if she got an abortion, it would be easier to forgive her. So your dad keeps writing to your mom about how hurt he is that she cheated on him, how she betrayed him and all that, but you can tell he’s still completely in love with her. He finally says he forgives her and he’ll do anything to make it work . . . he’ll even raise the kid as if she’s his own. That kid is you.”
I sat down on the ground hard. Roxanne immediately plopped down next to me, followed by Dekker.
My dad . . . wasn’t my dad. I flashed through a thousand memories of Dad barking at me to get him a sandwich. Dad yelling “Faster, faster, dammit! You can run faster than that, I know you can! You’re goldbricking!” Or sitting motionless as I tried to tell him something and him saying, “I’m not in the mood to talk tonight, Petty.” But in the last five years, he was never, ever in the mood to talk. Dad sitting in his chair, staring blank--eyed at the TV, nonresponsive. Dadnotmydad. My whole, miserable life, spent with . . . this man. Not related to me. Nothing to do with me. Not my father.
Lightning split the sky, close enough to us that the thunder following it shook the ground I sat on.
“Petty, we need to go in,” Curt said. “Lightning.”
It was as if I’d left my body for a time and then reentered it. I didn’t know how long I’d been sitting there. I didn’t know when the sky had gotten so dark, or when the temperature had dropped. The thick, solid charcoal--colored ceiling of clouds was moving closer.
“Petty.” Roxanne stood and held out a hand to me. I took it and let her pull me to my feet and lead me into the house.
“Dekker, there’s a blanket in the hall closet,” Curt said.
Roxanne put me in her dad’s leather chair and sat on the arm. “Oh, sweetie,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”
Dekker ran and got the blanket, and put it around me. Curt squatted down in front of me and rubbed my blanket--covered shoulders. “Let’s get you warmed up here. You’re gonna be all right.”
I couldn’t stop shivering. Roxanne slid down the arm, wedged herself into the chair with me and put her arm around me, her head on my head.
Curt brought me a glass of water, which I gratefully drank.
Dekker sat on the couch. “Petty, do you realize what this means?” he said. “Your real dad might still be out there somewhere. He might still be in Denver.”
“And my mom really might still be alive,” I said, and as I did, goose bumps sprang up on my arms, setting me to shivering all over again.
My mom. Marianne. I pictured her and my real dad in a house a lot like this one, warm and cozy with pretty paintings on the walls and a refrigerator full of food.
Curt went into the dining room. I could hear him gathering the letters. “I know Michael Rhones did some crazy, shitty stuff, no question,” he called. “But, I gotta tell you. If Rita had cheated on me and had a baby . . . I kind of feel sorry for the guy, you know?”
I didn’t. Curt hadn’t lived through what I had with this person who wasn’t my father after all. Curt was just a kindhearted man who didn’t know any better, so I let this slide. He walked out of the dining room, rubber--banding the letters back together.
“Wait,” I said. “I want to read them for myself.”
“Later,” he said. “We’ve wasted enough time today. I know you’re shell--shocked, but you gotta get on the road. Run and get your stuff together and I’ll pull the Challenger around to the front of the house.”
“Dad,” Roxanne said. “You never even let me drive the Challenger to the grocery store.” She crossed her arms and pouted.
“Sorry, Rox,” Curt said. “It’s the newest car I have. It’s got GPS and satellite radio, and it’s fast.” He hugged his daughter and kissed the top of her head. “I promise when Dekker brings it back, you can drive it.” He went out the front door.
Roxanne stuck her tongue out at Dekker. “You better not screw that car up,” she said. “I mean it, now.” She pulled me up out of the chair and the blanket fell from my shoulders. “Let’s go get you packed.”
I followed her and Dekker up the stairs and went into Chloe’s room. I opened my suitcase lid, which blocked the bottom half of the cracked--open window. I could still see the tops of trees, which were being whipped by the wind. My cash was in my suitcase but I decided to put it in my front jeans pocket so I’d have it on me.
“I wish you didn’t have to go,” Roxanne said from behind me.