Page 68 of The Charade

"That's kind of crazy."

"I know." She picked up her plate of food from the patio table and brought it onto her lap. Poking a Dutch-oven potato with her fork, she said, "I get not letting a guy into your life because he's dangerous or something. Like, if he had raped her or abused her, then he obviously shouldn't be in the picture. But she never made it sound like anything like that happened. She just says she made a huge mistake and then ends the conversation."

I furrowed my brow, trying to figure out why her mom didn't just tell her. Even if she didn't want the guy in her girls’ lives, she could at least tell them who their biological father was. At least give them some details.

After chewing her bite of food, Ava said, "I don't know. Part of me just wishes she'd told me he died in a car accident or something. Because then I could stop looking at every tall, middle-aged guy with light brown hair and wonder if he was my dad.”

"Have you ever suspected anyone?"

"In second grade I thought for a little while that my friend Sarah's dad could possibly be my dad too, since I thought I looked kind of like him. He'd told me that he and my mom had known each other before I was born—they worked at the same store the summer my mom would have gotten pregnant with Elyse and me. But when I asked my mom if she'd ever had a crush on him, she just laughed and said he'd tried asking her out a couple of times, but she always said no because working with someone you date would be so awkward if you broke up. So I figured he probably wasn't my dad after all. Plus, I later found out that my friend and all of her siblings got some sort of strong genetic traits from him that Elyse and I would have gotten if we'd been his, and so I dropped him from my list of possible dads."

"Do you still have a list of possible dads going?" I asked.

"Not anymore."

I picked up my plate to finish my steak and potatoes that probably could use another trip inside the microwave. "I used to do something similar."

She narrowed her eyes. "You had a list of possible dads?"

"Not, like, officially," I said. "But yeah, I was the little orphan kid who went up to every gringo with blue eyes that I met and asked him if he was my daddy."

"Oh, that's so sad," Ava said. But then a slight smile lifted her cheeks and she said, "I bet that made for some awkward encounters. I wonder how many guys you met were worried you might actually be theirs. Or how many wives never trusted their husbands to go out for a guys’ weekend again after having a cute little orphan ask them if they were theirs."

I smiled, liking that she was able to bring some humor back into the conversation. "I only remember a handful of wives smacking their husbands after seeing the sense of dread come over them as they tried to figure out if I could actually be theirs."

"Were there a lot of orphans with gringo fathers running around then?"

"So many that they actually had to outlaw adoptions from other countries because it was such a huge problem back in the day."

"Really?" Ava's eyes went wide.

"Yes. The reason my family owns so many orphanages down there is because there are, like, five hundred thousand kids with stories like mine. I was just one of the lucky ones."

26

Ava

"Curfew is at ten, right?"Carter asked me while he loaded our dishes into one of the stainless-steel dishwashers they had in their massive kitchen.

"Yeah," I said. "Ten o'clock is when all the lights are supposed to go out."

Was he hinting that he might want to hang out a little longer? Because even though our dinner conversation hadn't exactly made for the most cheerful meal I'd ever had, I felt somehow closer to him because of it. And if he was offering me a chance to spend more time with him, I was so on board with it.

I knew it must have been hard to tell me about his past, since Carter didn't exactly strike me as the type of guy who was an open book or wore his heart on his sleeve. But I appreciated him telling me because it was nice to know more of why he was the way he was.

It solved the little mystery of why he'd reacted so strongly when he thought I was throwing away my food at the barbecue. Having lived with such hunger would probably make me a little territorial over food as well.

It also gave me some insight into why he was so meticulous with his planner. Having had so much instability in his early life, knowing what to expect during his day or week probably made him feel more secure and in control of what was going on in his life.

"Well," Carter said as he closed the dishwasher door and dried his hands with a towel. "If you're not in too big of a hurry to get back to the school, I was thinking it might be fun to watch a movie or something to end the evening on a lighter note."

"You sure you don't want me to tell you about all the phone calls Elyse and I eavesdropped on to try to figure out who our dad might be?" I asked. "Or list all the daddy-daughter activities I stayed home from because my mom just didn't look that great in a suit?" I shot him a challenging look. "Because I know how competitive you are about sob stories, I think I might need to tell you a few more of mine so you can know you're not the only kid who had it rough growing up."

"As fun as that sounds…" Carter chuckled, and I liked the way his eyes lit up when he laughed. I liked the dark and brooding vibe he usually put out, but there was just something about the lighter, more carefree version of him that I was addicted to. "I kind of think I might be more in the mood for a movie."

"Okay, fine." I made a show of looking disappointed that he hadn't taken me up on my offer. "But I get to pick the movie, okay?"

"As long as it isn't something sad likeThe Fault in Our StarsorA Walk to Remember, then I guess I'll let you pick this time."

---