FSE

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I think the nice part of sleeping is the fact that I can tune out life for hours, if I'm lucky. There's no one that relies on me, and I can cast a small bubble around myself.

But dreams, like most other things in life, have to end. This time it ends by someone jumping on the bed. My small, black wolf, Dominique, yells at us like the world is ending.

"24th! 24th! Christmas Eve!"

I feel Max wiggle himself from our embrace, standing up with a panicked start.

"a--a-are y--you o-okay?!?"

He asks with panic flooding his voice, and Dom only greets his panic with a small, mischievous giggle. I keep my eyes shut in a futile attempt to grasp sleep back into my hands...

...Nope, it's gone now.

Dom does this everytime there's a day where something important is planned.

...I don't want to remember what it is.

Max gives a confused whimper, and I feel his weight shift back onto the bed as he sits down. He breathes in and out in a slow rhythm, Dom mimics him. Opening my eyes and finally turning to them, I do so as well.

Dom and I meet gazes, and I give a tired grin, first to speak.

"So, superstar, why the rude awakening?"

"I made you guys pancakes!"

Cool.

...Wait!

It's my turn to stand out of bed with a panicked start.

"Did you turn off the stovetop?"

When there's no immediate answer, Max seems to get the hint and runs out of the room to check if there's a fire. Dom chases after the chowhound with excitement Max's god must've given him.

When the pitter-patter of their feet fades, so does some of the room's warmth. I shiver, putting a small blanket over my shoulders as I study the room.

The chromatic harmony in our room mostly consists of dark red and a cream brown, from the walls to the carpet I'm standing on. It's as if some god threw two buckets of paint into our room, letting them blend and fade into each other. I think it's fine, despite the imperfections.

What isn't fine is the mess of blankets and pillows that had somehow gotten on the floor between last night and this morning.

Heh, I don't care enough to fully recall.

It takes me a few minutes to straighten out the room, after which I give the room one last observation before I join Max and Dom.

The room is small and minimalistic, or at least, it was at first. Max started to collect decorations in here over the years, from silver vases to small bowls that hold tiny trinkets. I didn't care for them, but I guess they're starting to grow on me.

This display case against the wall in our room only serves to prove my point. The silver-legged stand with glass panes held nothing at first. It was until the year after we had gotten Dom that we started putting his photos on it.

I pick one up: it's a photo of Dom winning third place at his school's spelling bee. Max is holding the small wolf on his shoulders, with the two standing next to the less enthusiastic second and first place winners.

...It's strange how much he looks like me with his red eyes and black fur-- he's twelve now, and is rapidly reaching my height when I'm practically triple his age...and a cat. Maybe I should take up wearing high heels if Dom ever grows to be taller than me...

"J?"

As soon as Max peeks his head into our room, I set the photo back onto the stand. I shouldn't be staring off into space.

"Yes?"

The chowhound fidgets with his hands,hesitant for some reason. Oh no...

"...did the kitchen burn down?"

Dom chimes in this time with an exasperated expression, peeking his head under Max's.

"That was one time!"

...so they didn't burn down the kitchen. Again.

The chowhound finally speaks up, having stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"We made pancakes, but, do you want cereal...?"

Oh.

Dom looks up at the chowhound, then at me.

"Why? Are you allergic to pancakes, Dad?"

Max covers his mouth, his shoulders hiccoughing as he attempts to mute his giggles. He fails spectacularly; it takes Dom gently elbowing his leg to shut him up.

"No Nique... I'm not, it's just..."

I trail off, but before they can fill the silence I continue.

"I'm fine, I can eat pancakes with you two."

I'll explain later, or at least, try to.

...I'm a coward.

"Ok, well, I'm gonna go eat pancakes before they get cold."

The small wolf glances between us before heading into the kitchen.

Max takes the moment to approach me, but I move past him to walk to the kitchen.

"I'm fine,Max. Let's go eat."

As soon as I enter the kitchen, I sit down to a plate of pancakes. The pancakes tower on the plate, with each disk being as thick as a block.

...there are probably only three of them on here.

I can tell immediately that I don't really feel like eating this. Even staring at it has me imagining how uncomfortable they'll sit in my stomach until I eventually throw up.

'Don't grow as big and strong as me, Joaqi, you'll hate it.'

...

We usually only have cereal or something for breakfast.

...I guess I'll try to eat.

While I halfheartedly shovel the cake into my mouth, I study the kitchen. I think it helps distract me enough to eat.

Aside from our pan that's in the sink and the batter still out on the counter, our kitchen looks relatively clean. It has a uniform black and silver assortment of color, since Max wanted the kitchen to look more "presentable" in color choice. We never have anyone else over anyway, aside from the small number of sleepovers Dom has had, so I never cared for how "presentable" it looks.

"Dear?"

It's Max who snaps me out of my stupor, sitting across from me with a plate in front of him. I didn't even notice him come into the kitchen.

I swallow whatever I had in my mouth, trying to hide my frown as I answer.

"Yes?"

"Are you, tired? You can, go back to sleep, if you want to..."

He trails off, and Dom chimes in after him.

"Yeah, we can even plan to meet grandpapa some other time."

...Damn.

For some reason I'd hoped that he'd forgotten, or that maybe he was just waking us up because it's Christmas Eve and would beg us to give him his gifts early. I would've preferred that.

I hold back a sigh, feeling the familiar sensation of butterflies swarming inside me. From my chest to my stomach this sensation resonates. It starts out slow at first, it always does. But I have to give an answer, or else they'll worry about me.

"No, no, we can still meet grandpa..."

They raise their eyebrows, probably unconvinced. I was always a terrible actor.

Max at least looks surprised... he probably forgot, anyhow. Neither of them have met my Dad Noel, and his husband Teddie...yet. I made that promise that we could see them on Christmas Eve at the beginning of the month though... Damn it, Dominique.

No, I shouldn't be mad at him. I shouldn't even be upset. This is my fault.

"You sure, dear?"

The chowhound gives a concerned gaze, and I nod. Smile and nod, Joaquin, smile and nod.

"Yeah, yeah, it's cool. We can still go."

Dominique stands up, his empty plate lying alone on the table.

"Well I'm gonna go put stuff on. We're leaving after breakfast right?"

I guess I did say that we'd leave in the morning...

I nod, and Dom giggles in excitement as he goes back to his room.

When Max stands up to start collecting the dishes, I push mine towards him without hesitation. He takes them without question, going over to the sink to wash the dishes.

"You sure, dear? I can, be the bearer of bad news, and tell him that we can't go."

He looks over to me as he talks, his golden eyes showing concern.

"I don't really mind."

I shake my head, attempting to sigh away my feelings. I'll be fine.

"No, no, it's fine, we can go..."

My phone then starts to ring in my room, and I don't feel like getting to it. I can faintly hear the ring tone. It's J-pop, Quinton is calling.

...it's probably important.

Without being prompted to, Max dries his hands off to go chase after the phone before it goes to voicemail. I would've stopped him, told him to let it go to voicemail, but whatever.

The chowhound soon comes back, phone in hand, with it being answered already. I press the phone against my ear, only to hear Quinton's signature tired voice in response.

"Yo, this finally Joaquin?"

They give an exasperated sigh, I decide to ignore it.

"Yes, it is."

"Cool, I can't come to visit my Dad and Noel this year."

...well, there goes one of my anchors in speaking with the two. I haven't even seen Dad and Teddie since they married.

"May I ask why?"

"I don't feel like it."

I hold back a sigh, shrugging. I wish I could use that same excuse.

"Fair, I guess. Tell Ray I said hi."

Quinton takes a moment, probably signing to their boyfriend that I said hi. Even though he can hear us. That's...considerate.

"He says hi."

Before I can even get a goodbye out, they hang up. I sigh, slipping my phone into my pocket.

When I stand up, Max takes the opportunity to hug me. I don't fight it, instead taking the opportunity to bury my face into his chest, almost absorbing his warmth.

"Are you sure you're ok, J?"

A pause, with me not immediately answering with "I'm fine". We start to waltz together in the kitchen in a sort of slow dance.

"...No. I'm scared, Max."

My voice drops to a whisper, so Max rests his chin on my head. I don't want Dom to hear us, to hear his Dad being weak.

It's Max's turn to sigh, clasping onto my hands instead of my body.

"I've never met your Dad, but from the way, you speak about him..."

"I don't like him, no. But, I've been talking to him recently, and he wants to meet Dom."

I shrug. Our fingers intertwined as we held hands.

"He seems better...now. So why not I guess."

Max gives a hum in contemplation, filling the lull in our conversation with him nuzzling my head, counting to himself as we waltz.

.

"Well, we can stay, if you want to. Neither Dom, nor I would make you go."

"I know, it's just... I don't want to let him down."

"Joaquin."

I look up to Max, flinching in response; he looks down to me, cupping my face in his hands. I stubbornly nuzzle his hands, but make no effort to pull myself away.

"It'll be fine, really. We could even reschedule, if you're not feeling up, for it. It's not like, they're going to die tomorrow..."

...Maybe that's why Dom is excited to go today.

"We'll go."

The chowhound nods.

"Sure then. Say something if you reconsider though, ok? It's a, two hour ride..."

I nod in response, and we stay in that hold for a few more moments.

...

We should probably start to get ready, though...

When I boop Max's nose he giggles, pulling away from me.

"Yeah, yeah, we should get going..."

...

It takes about fifteen minutes for us to get ready. Five of those minutes were spent with Max peppering me with kisses in our room. I don't mind it. He won't be able to do this stuff in front of Dom, and especially not in front of Dad.

Dom stands at the door, tapping his feet impatiently. He calls out "Dad" and "Dad" with two different tones. He calls me with a lower one than Max.

"Dad! Dad! Come on, we're gonna be late!"

The small wolf adorns a long, cream colored coat with a red scarf around his neck. The scarf sits so loosely on his neck, I wonder why it's even there.

...Guess it matches the coat.

"Coming, coming..."

I roll my eyes, and Dom huffs in response.

Max and I approach the door, with me wearing a coat similar to Dom's, because the chowhound wouldn't let me go out without wearing one.

But it's only 25°F, not even that cold outside.

I pat through my pants and coat pockets, checking if I have everything.

Wallet: check.

Phone: check.

Keys: check.

"Everyone ready?"

Max seems ready to go, standing next to Dom. The wolf checks his pockets first, mumbling to himself. When he's done he looks back up to us.

"Ya, you wanna call grandpa and tell him that we're coming?"

Oh, right, I should probably do that.

I take out my phone, holding down the nine key.

Ring...ring...

"Hello?"

Instead of Dad's fake melody of politeness, it's Teddie with a much more sincere voice.

"Oh, Teddie, just wanted to let you know that we're on our way."

"Yeah! Have you heard from Quinton yet...?"

Oh, right.

"Ya... they decided not to come."

A pause ensues, and I can hear a small sigh come from the line. Teddie picks up on the silence, his voice mixing with a hint of disappointment.

"Ah, okay, I'll talk to him later."

We share goodbyes, with me hanging up the phone first. Dom gives an audible whine when I slide my phone back into my pocket.

I raise my eyebrows, and Dom pouts at me when our gazes meet.

"What's wrong, Dom?"

"I wanted to say hi to them..."

"You're going to go see them--"

"In two hours, Dad!"

Max cuts in, standing in between us.

"O-o-ok, w-we'll...stop this...for now, and at least get on the road...ok?"

Dom and I sigh in unison, silently agreeing to cut the conversation there.

...this is going to be a long two hours.

...

The first fifteen minutes have been dead silent. Max has been solely paying attention to the road, both hands on the wheel and all. Glancing at Dom from time to time from the rearview mirror shows that he's simply lying his head on the windowsill with his seat belt on. He's clutching onto the scarf around his neck.

Dom catches me glancing at him in the rearview mirror, and our eyes meet. His deep, crimson eyes stare at me, though I can't read his expression.

"Dad."

His light, almost chirpy voice jolts me into talking.

"Yes?"

He sits up properly, taking in a deep breath.

"...I'm sorry."

"I appreciate the apology."

That's my default answer. Maybe I should say "it's okay".

"...What's grandpa like?"

...I'm such a coward.

"Which one?"

"Uhh, your dad."

"Well, Noel looks like me, but if he was a wrestler, big and..."

I shouldn't use the word "scary", even if he is.

"Scary?"

Dom finishes my thought for me. Well...

"Sure, but he wouldn't hurt you."

Max and I will make sure of that.

"...and the other Dad?"

"That's Quinton's Dad. His name is Teddie, he's a big hyena."

"Big like Noel?"

"No, round, like an actual Teddy bear. You know, probably why he's called Teddie."

Dom gives a quiet "Oh", and the conversation falls to a comfortable lull. Good, I don't feel like talking about either of them anymore.

...I'm tired.

"Dad?"

Max responds with a "Yes?", and their conversation fades out as I...fall...asleep...

...

I think I fell asleep for the whole trip, even over the bridge. I must've not realized how tired I was.

Max nudges me awake when we reach their small log cabin, pulling into their driveway. Before Max even shifts into park, Dom hops out of the car, with the chowhound exiting and chasing him like he's running after a goose.

He didn't even put the car into park. He's lucky that we're not on an inclined driveway. It'd be falling backwards instead of inching forwards

As soon as I clamber over to the driver's seat and actually park the car, I take the keys out of the ignition and lock it.

Teddie and Noel bought a house together after they married, with Dad selling his old house.

This one looks miles better than the raggedy thing Dad had...

It's still his domain, though.

I thought I fought off those butterflies when I was home, but entering this place has them emerging once more.

I'll be fine.

I'll...be fine.

After I walk onto the porch I open the screen door, entering the house.

There's a small hallway that connects the entrance to the rest of the house, where Max's and Dom's shoes were probably tossed here. I set my coat aside, entering the house to find where they've gone.

"So, what's a chowhound?"

Damn, that's Dad's voice. He's already interrogating Max.

"Well, it's a mix between a beagle...and a chow..."

I enter the kitchen, finding Dad, a very muscular panther, sitting across from my lanky husband. Teddie is seated next to Dad, with Dom next to Max.

Dom is holding onto Max's arm, his tiny hands cupping around Max's wrist. The chowhound holds the small wolf's hand in turn. Neither of them seemed to have noticed me coming in.

Teddie is first to notice my presence, standing up and smiling at me.

"Hi Joaquin! It's been a while!"

I wave my hand, only for the same hand to shut itself when Dad finally notices me. He gives a cartoonish grin, as if he's some monologuing supervillain.

As soon as he stands up, I take a step back. But it's too late, he's too fast.

When I blink, he's already hugging me, holding me high in the air. I think he's singing praises, but I can't hear that over the sound of my soul being crushed inside me. I think this is what dying feels like: slow and painful.

He then drops me without warning; I have to resist the urge to crumple onto the floor like goo. I feel like I've been gutted and left to die.

Max is standing next to Dad, glaring at the panther with a hand simply resting on the other's chest. He's whispering something I obviously can't make out with a venomous tone.

He wouldn't start a fight here though, not in front of Dom.

Dom looks at me with a worried expression, reaching out in an attempt to pat my back. I wave his attempts off, and he simply stares at me, then going back to sitting proper.

I'm fine, kiddo.

Max and Dad sit back down, with the former glaring at the latter. I'm not really sure what he said to Dad, but he probably deserved it.

They sit back down, with Max running his hands through my head fur. That always makes me freeze up and blush, I guess he's trying to comfort me.

But I'll be fine.

I shoo his hand away, and Max flinches. He relents though, resting his hand back to his own lap.

...Sorry Max.

"So, Quinton couldn't come?"

I look up to see Teddie comb his hands through Noel's head fur, the latter seeing a bit unnerved. Maybe he was lectured.

...He never took too kindly to those.

"Nope."

I shrug in an attempt to brush off the lingering pang of pain, but it does nothing to help.

Teddie nods, going back to combing through Noel's fur with his hand.

"How is he, then?"

...this hyena is stubborn in the strangest ways.

"They are fine, probably spending the day with their boyfriend."

A small hum in response, and the conversation reaches an uncomfortable lull. Dom's even quiet, fidgeting with his hands. I don't care enough to raise another conversation topic.

...Why am I even here? I could be at home, asleep in my bed, lazing my day away. Or even doing anything else with Dom and Max.

I feel my blood start to boil at the almost infinite possibilities at what else I could be doing with my time.

"Joaqi?"

... Calm down, Joaquin, smile and nod. You were trained for this.

I direct my gaze to Dad, who gives a hearty smile. I try to return one, not being able to tell if it's an awkward one or not.

"Yes, Dad?"

"You...okay?"

He looks like he had to force that phrase out of him, as if he's unfamiliar with the words he's using.

"...I'm fine."

I'll be fine.

The panther gives me a small hum in response, similar to an "Okay". Before the conversation can fall into another lull, Dad turns his attention to Dom--the reason we're all the way out here.

"Hey, kid."

Dom recoils, his face scrunching up into one of pure discomfort. Heh, he hasn't learned not to call him that yet.

"...I have a name."

Dad raises an eyebrow, leaning in slightly.

"That being?"

He sounds like he's interrogating my son. I start to say something, to shut him up, but Max puts a hand on top of my head. I flinch, not moving to shoo his hand away. He knows me too well.

When I look up at him, we meet gazes, the chowhound giving a patient smile.

He mouths "It'll be ok", and I sigh, fighting down whatever retort I'd have. Whatever, I guess it's fine.

When I notice that his hand's been there for too long, I shoo it away; he lowers his hand, settling for holding mine under the table. I guess I'll allow him that.

"...Dominique Matthews."

I'm not sure if it's weird to be prideful about my son declaring his last name with pride. As if it's simple fact. Max gives a bright smile, holding my hand a bit tighter. I hold it just as tightly.

I guess it's not weird.

Dad gives a hum of acknowledgement; then directs his red-eyed gaze to me. His expression is a mix between contemplative and disappointed, hard to read.

"You gave up our last name--"

Before Dad finishes whatever he was about to say, Max cuts in, glaring at the panther.

"W--we are NOT, h-having that c-c-conversation here, talk about s-something e-else."

Dom and I collectively flinch at Max's tone, not used to hearing him talk like that.

...I've only heard him use that tone sparingly in the classroom, and to his mother.

Dad gives a simple, short hum, shrugging and turning his gaze back to Dom. The small wolf is glaring at the panther now, though his Dad has already calmed down.

Max thumbs my hand as he holds it, sighing.

"Uhm, I have something to ask..."

This time Teddie speaks up, giving a small, polite smile. When did this become an interview?

Guess I shouldn't have let it get to this point.

When there's no audible interjection to "go ahead", the hyena keeps talking.

"Nique, how do you refer to your Fathers?"

"Dad, and Dad."

He refers to both of us in two different tones. Teddie chuckles at this.

"Ah, my son refers to me as Dad and his--"

"And me, as Noel. Not even step-Dad."

The panther seems bitter at this, his tone becoming slightly venomous. Teddie shuts up, forgoing whatever he was about to say.

"But, Joaquin never calls me Stepdad..."

...

Another lull ensues. This time, Teddie constantly glances at the oven, as if something is in there.

Max looks to the oven the same time as Teddie, a curious expression drawn on his face.

"I, uh, smelled that something is cooking, since we've gotten here...what is it?"

For some reason, I constantly forget that I can't smell. It's as if my nose was blocked with a certain, dull smell, and nothing pierces through that invisible barrier.

"Oh, it's meat! A meat extravaganza, Noel really wanted one. With fish--"

Dad suddenly cuts in, his attention focused on Dom.

"...can you smell, Nique?"

Dom immediately shakes his head no, and the panther gives a small hum in acknowledgement. Though his eyes give a small glint, his eyebrows raised in surprise. It's as if he's realized something.

...Weird.

"Well, anyways...let's eat!"

Teddie stands up, clasping his hands to get our attention. He then goes to the oven, taking out the aluminum container that's covered in foil. It sits on the oven, ready for the taking.

...The opposite of hunger pangs in my body, as if the mere thought of eating all of that could make me throw up.

'Don't grow as big and strong as me, Joaqi, you'll hate it.'

...

I feel Max clasp both of his hands around one of mine, probably in an attempt to comfort me.

My hand feels locked in his hold, so I pull it away, resting it in my own lap.

I'm fine.

"You hungry, Joaqi?"

Dad stands up, going to make himself a plate. Teddy is already up there, making himself one.

I shake my head no.

The panther stops in his tracks, giving me a confused tilt of his head.

...he's confused?

"You still have that weak belly, Joaqi? Are you sure you're not hungry?"

"I'm s--"

"No, he's not."

Max cuts in, then moves to stand up, not giving Dad a second glance. Instead, the chowhound directs his gaze to Dom.

"You hungry, Dom?"

There's a small pause as Dom glances at me. He smiles, as if it has the power to reassure me. I smile back weakly. Satisfied with my answer, the wolf turns his attention back to Max.

"Sure."

While Max goes to make a plate, I direct my attention back to the table, to its weirdly marble looking surface.

I hold back a sigh, somehow pulling my chair up closer to the table.

I'm fine...I'm fine.

No one is angry.

I hear a phone start to ring, but it's not mine, nor Max's.

"I'll have to go take this..."

Teddie's voice is filled with a somber, I assume it's his chair that creaks as he stands up, walking away.

...

I hate it here.

"J?"

That's Dad's voice.

"Hm?"

The panther stands up, and I look up to see him grabbing his ugly, brown coat.

"Come on, we're taking a walk."

"I'm fine."

Dad rolls his red eyes.

"Sure, but I need to talk to you."

"Uhm..."

I look at Max, then Dom, who both give looks of concern. No, Dad won't kill me. Please don't look at me like that.

"Sure..."

As soon as I move to stand up, Dom stands up, then Max.

"Sit down, the both of you."

As soon as that phrase even exits Dad's maw, Max's gaze turns into a glare.

"Excuse me?"

He normally isn't this irritable...

I'll have to defuse the situation before it gets out of hand.

"Max, I'll be fine..."

I put up a smile for the chowhound, who sighs and sits back down.

"Call me...if you need anything."

Dom looks between Max and I, as if stuck between a rock and a hard place.

"Dom, I'll be right back."

The wolf pouts, looking like he wants to say something. But he just sighs, sitting back down and crossing his arms over his chest.

...I'll have to apologize to him later.

As soon as I look at the door, I'm met with the quiet click of it closing. Dad already left.

He didn't even wait for me...

Eh, he never really did.

"Can we leave when you get back, Dad?"

Max and I answer "Sure" at the same time, neither of us being able to tell who he asked.

I exit out the door, hurriedly slipping my shoes on; leaving my coat behind. He might walk off if I'm not out there.

As soon as I'm outside, Dad tosses a brown coat at me. I let it fall onto my face, then brush it aside as if it's dirt.

"I don't need the coat, Dad."

I only wore it today because Max would've forced me into it if I didn't.

"Sure, freeze to death for all I care."

I flinch, as Dad power walks to me and sets the coat on the stair railing. He then turns away, walking down the porch stairs and starts to walk down the street.

I guess we're going on a walk now.

I don't think I've noticed how much snow there is in East Wisconsin.

...I mean, Upper Peninsula Ohio.

...Michigan.

"Joaqi."

Dad's voice shakes me from my stupor, and I look up at him while he walks beside me.

"...I wanted to apologize, J."

...For what?

He wants to apologize now, right? For what?

For abandoning me for his job, with me having to fend for myself at home when mom died?

He came home every other day sad, tired, and with money.

Hell, I had to walk to school because he wouldn't give up our expensive house. He had to stay at his job more frequently as a result.

Money was more important than taking care of his own child, right?

Or is it for forcing me to eat whatever he thought was healthy for me? Only fruits and vegetables for 15 years.

'I'm telling you Joaqi, keep this up and you won't have to go to the military, nor be a police officer. Not even a security guard. They wouldn't take you.'

I feel my body shake, and I try to hold myself still, but the sudden storm of butterflies has flooded through my body.

"Joaqi, did you hear anything I just said?"

He sounds annoyed, probably with me.

With a shaky breath, I can only glare at him. He flinches in response, scratching the back of his head.

"Well, I was asking who Dominique's birth mother is, what's her name?"

It only takes me a moment to recall her name.

"Marianne Gladys."

He mumbles a curse.

"And he's 13 now, right?"

"Twelve, thirteen in January."

What the hell is he getting at?

Dad looks remorseful now, looking away and staring at the snow. He scratches the back of his head, and a pause insinuates.

I take a moment to sigh in, and then out. I count to 10 while fidgeting with my fingers.

"...I have something to tell you, and you're not going to like it."

My "What?" comes out a lot sharper than I'd like it, but I don't apologize.

"I think you were seventeen at the time, when I went out that night to a motel. You know by now that us men have urges that we need to...satiate."

"Carnal desires, get to the point."

He didn't, at least not immediately.

"I met up with a woman, a wolf, named Marianne Gladys, and we met at a motel. I thought, like an idiot, that I wouldn't need protection. She told me that she was on birth control at first, so I trusted her "

There's a small pause; I fold my arms, impatiently tapping my foot on the snow covered cement while waiting for him to answer.

I feel my anger begin to rise, my hands closing tighter and tighter. I don't want to believe that I know where this is going.

I can't.

Not until I hear those words coming out of his mouth.

"A month later she somehow got a hold of me, telling me that she was pregnant, that she was ecstatic. That she'd love to have a baby by me. But, I already had you."

He'd already made a mistake.

"So I left her to take care of you."

"So, you stayed at home with me more because you were avoiding her?"

I take a step closer, and he takes a step back. He nods weakly.

I have a headache now, my eyebrows might grow and become sharp daggers.

"I only heard about 6 years ago from a friend that she died, and her son was given up to an adoption agency. His name was Dominique."

I think the adult thing to do is to walk away.

I don't exactly remember what I did then, but I assume that jumping onto Dad and attacking him with a flurry of punches wasn't the adult thing to do.

I do remember Max rushing outside and pulling me off, hurriedly asking us what was wrong.

I don't answer.