“Who was that?” Pops asked.
“My brother, Max,” I said automatically, completely forgetting that my father had not been awake the past year. He didn’t know about Maxwell Cunningham or about Maddy and the truth of her paternity. “Shit,” I whispered, staring at his confused face.
“What brother?”
I closed my eyes and sat on the bed. “Pops, it’s a really long, screwed up story that ultimately has a happy ending, but not really something you should probably be hearing when you’ve just woken up from the better part of a year-long sleep.” I sighed, hating that I'd spilled the beans before he’d had time to adjust to knowing that he’d been out for a year.
“Y-Young l-lady, you sit your bum down and t-tell y-your father all about this b-brother of yours and how you came about finding out about him. Have y-you b-been in contact with your m-mother?”
“No, Pops, I haven’t.” Just a mention of my mother sent an icy chill rippling through my veins.
Maddy arrived shortly after I started in on the story of meeting Maxwell Cunningham and how I was hired to pretend to be his long lost sister, when in reality he already knew I was related. Then when he found out about Madison, we did blood tests that confirmed he was indeed our brother genetically.
“So that’s it? Y-Your m-mother was in a relationship b-before she m-met me, had a child and abandoned him. Is that a-all?”
Maddy bit her lip and looked out the small window, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.
“What aren’t you t-telling me?” His brows lowered, and he frowned.
I sighed. “I think that’s enough for today, Dad. You’ve been through a lot. We’ve been through a lot. Maybe we need to take a break.”
Pops shook his head adamantly. “No. We’re going to end a-any s-secrets right here, right n-now.” He pointed a thin finger into the waffle thread hospital blanket.
My shoulders slumped, and the tears ran down Maddy’s face.
Just rip the Band-Aid off, Mia. Get it done so that you can be free of this burden.
“Mia…Maddy…” Pops said in warning.
Madison’s entire body looked like it was going to cave inward. I went over to her and wrapped my arms around her chest from behind. She leaned back against me, lifted her hands to her face, and cried.
“Good Lord, what is wrong?”
“Pops, when we had the blood tests done, the test proved that Maxwell Cunningham and Maddy shared the same mother and father.”
He closed his eyes and rubbed at his forehead. “So it’s true. Genetically, I’m n-not y-your father.”
Maddy cried hard and shook her head.
“Oh, honey, come here.” He opened his arms, and she fell into them crying against his chest.
“B-But, b-but, you’re my dad!” she moaned as though she were in pain. I would have done anything to take her pain away, but it wasn’t mine to bear.
He petted her hair. “Yes. And I always w-will b-be. No t-test can take m-my girls away from me.”
“Not me, Pops. The paternity test confirmed that I only shared the same mother with Maxwell and Maddy.”
Pops shook his head and continued to run his fingers through her honey gold hair, the hair she’d gotten from her real father. “Always suspected your mom was p-playing around on m-me. There were times where I thought I’d seen her s-standing too close to t-this tall blond c-cowboy-looking f-fella. I can’t recall his n-name.”
“Jackson Cunningham. He would come to Vegas when I was a kid. She’d see her son, and I’d see the brother I never knew I had. Until she got pregnant with Maddy. Then those visits stopped,” I answered before he could ask.
Pops licked his lips and kissed the crown of Maddy’s head. “Yeah, after Maddy, she started acting s-strange.” He smiled sadly. “More s-strange than n-normal, that is. It was l-like she c-couldn’t keep still or stay in o-one p-place long enough. She constantly c-changed jobs in the s-shows, moved from casino to casino, c-complaining that this one or t-that had some t-type of p-problem. And then one day it w-was Vegas w-was the p-problem. And then I w-was the p-problem. The rest, as they say, is history.”
Then she left. I remember that part very clearly.
* * *