Page 68 of My One
All of us in the room looked at Easton as though he knew all the answers because it was his mom. He shrugged, and our attention went back to the TV.
“Avery.”My dad laughed.“If I had known you were a whore and got knocked up by another man, I would never have agreed to name him after his real father.”
There was the sound of someone being slapped. I felt everyone in the room look at me, but I couldn’t look away from the screen. It was as though everything around me stopped and my only focus was this one piece of the puzzle. I wasn’t sure I’d heard correctly. I wasn’t sure about anything anymore.
“See what you did?”Jane hissed.“Now your wife is crying and running off at her son’s birthday party. This is supposed to be a fun afternoon.”
“I don’t give a shit,”my dad spat.
“You two need to get it together,”Jane ordered.“That sweet boy knows nothing, and you two made it that way. You chose to stay together because of your little society bubble you live in. You need to either cut the shit or tell that boy the truth.”
“He’ll never know the truth.”
“Why not?”
“Because—”
“Because you care what other people think, and you’re willing to live a lie to keep up the image that you have a perfect marriage?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know more than you think. We’ve been friends—”
“Fuck off, Jane. Go deal with Denise, and leave me the hell alone.”
“Fine, but know this.”There was a slight pause, and she lowered her voice slightly.“That sweet boy will find out one day who his father really is.”
“Are you going to tell him?”
“No, but secrets can only stay buried for so long, Doug.”
My dad chuckled sarcastically.“And so can Avery Moore.”
The living room was silent as I watched my dad walk in front of the camera and toward Jimmy at the grill. Jimmy said something, and they both laughed. Dad grabbed a beer and twisted off the cap before taking a swig as though he didn’t just have an altercation with Jimmy’s wife and my mom. But …
He wasn’t my dad.
“Babe?” Nicole whispered.
I didn’t reply. Instead, I stood and walked out the front door, leaving my half-eaten burger and fries behind. I wasn’t hungry—again. I wasn’t sure what I was anymore because I sure as shit wasn’t Douglas Scott’s son.
Footsteps pounded behind me, and without looking back, I knew the heavy footfalls were Easton’s. He jogged to where I was walking down the street, no destination in mind.
“Not now,” I clipped.
“Just walking with you,” he replied.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“All right. Then where are we going?”
Crazy.“Who the fuck knows anymore?” I groaned in frustration.
“I’m sure Edna has more vodka. Let’s get fucked up.”
I didn’t respond. I just kept walking down the street. Drowning everything with vodka sounded like the best idea, but then I knew I’d wake up in the morning and nothing would be different. I wouldn’t wake up to a week ago when all I wanted was to spend the weekend away with my wife. No, I would wake up in the same position, knowing that the man who I called dad wasn’t actually my father at all.
Easton didn’t offer to do anything else or say anything else. Instead, we walked and walked and walked. We walked up and down numerous streets until the sun was no longer shining and the street lights were on. What kind of world was I living in where I didn’t realize that the man that I thought was my father wasn’t? And did my dad—Doug—whoever he was—kill the first Avery?
