“He used to drive down from Georgetown to see me every Sunday. Mommy would usually cook and do things around the house while he played with me. The night she died, she was making pancakes for dinner. But we were out of syrup. He offered to go get it, but she insisted he stay and have more time with me.” He starts crying again, his face like that of a scared little boy.

The same little boy I’ve seen glimpses of my whole life. Only now, I know who he is. I touch Daddy’s knee, gently encouraging him to continue.

“He stayed with me the whole week. When he dropped me off at my grandmother’s house after the funeral, he said he’d be back to get me. Said I’d come live with him. Even left me with a set of keys to what was supposed to be my new house. But he never came back.”

“Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry,” I say, feeling way down deep in his sadness. The tears that have been gathering in my eyes fall down my cheeks.

“No, I’m sorry. I’ve ruined everything. But I wanted you to know the truth,” he says, and hangs his head.

I wipe my face. Wait, does he think bringing me here and telling me all of this will somehow let him off the hook with telling me about Shannon? I know he hurts more than I ever knew, but I still need answers. “What about Shannon? Why did you keep her a secret? Who’s her mother? Where did you meet her? How long was the affair? What do you do when you see Shannon every Sunday? Didn’t you feel bad for lying to us? For keeping her from us? How could you?” All my questions come flying out all at once, scared that if they wait, they won’t get answers.

He looks up but doesn’t say anything.

“Sorry, that didn’t come out the way I wanted it to. But I need to know.”

“Oh, Angel-face,” he says, a big tear falling down his right cheek. “Of course, I feel bad. I hate myself for what I’ve done,” he says, and hangs his head for way too long.

“Come on, now,” I say, trying not to get mad all over again.

“Okay. Amanda, Shannon’s mom, was my neighbor and best friend throughout high school. She was the only one who knew the truth about Mommy and my father. I used to connect with her on Facebook. Then one day we met up for lunch. Then we met up again. I don’t even know what happened, and then she got pregnant.”

Oh, I know what happened, I think, but keep my mouth shut so he keeps talking.