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And we both start cracking up, staring up at the ceiling of my kid’s room.
46
“You’resureyou don’t want me to come?” Kit stretches the wordsureso long that it sounds longer than the rest of the sentence combined.
“I’m sure,” I confirm. “I need to do this on my own. And if it goes poorly, I probably won’t spend the night. You won’t even notice I’m gone.”
He snorts at that. “Impossible.”
“It’s not that far. I’ll be fine.”
“Exactly. It’s not that far. Which is why Camden should driveyou.”
“But then I can’t spend the night.”
He clicks his tongue, subtly calling me out on being difficult. “We could invite your parents here next weekend.”
“I don’t want to havethisconversation with my dad here. My mom said he’ll be on campus most of the weekend as part of this lecture series. It’s the perfect opportunity to talk to him without her overhearing and wondering what’s going on.”
“Perfect opportunity,exceptyou’re eight months pregnant,” Kit counters.
“Do you not still think I should ask him about it?”
He sighs. “No, I do.”
“Then let me do this. I promise if I wasn’t feeling up to it, I wouldn’t go. Pregnant women have driven themselves to the hospital in labor.”
“Well, let’s avoidthat.”
I smile. “My point is, I can handle driving two hours three weeks before my due date.”
He studies me, then nods. “Okay. Call or text me when you get there. And after you talk to him.”
“I promise.” I rise up on my tiptoes to kiss him. “I love you.”
“I love you too. And, Collins?”
“Yeah?” I pause with the minivan door open.
I still think it’s entirely ridiculous that he bought one, but it feels a lot more manageable to drive than his other fancier cars.
“Be careful,” he tells me. “You have my whole world in that car.”
My nose starts to sting. I sniff, managing a smile. “I will be.”
I spend the drive to New Haven rehearsing what I’m going to say to my dad. I only have one question really.
Why?
I want to knowwhy.Whyhas eaten away at me for three years.Whyreduced my relationship with my dad to rare correspondence. Maybe that would have happened anyway as I grew older and my life naturally separated from my childhood.
But I resent how that separation wasn’t entirely natural. That I forced it because I was mad and disappointed and didn’t know how else to process seeing my dad kiss a stranger.
I have control over what I say during this conversation. But I’ve honestly never given much thought to what my dad’s answer to that question would be. And I’m trying to prepare for every possibility now. Was it a mistake? A full-blown affair?
Does my mom know?
Did he ever wonder if I knew?