The living room was tidy. The blanket Ed had used the night before had been folded and stacked neatly on the end of the couch, the pillow resting on top.

“Now, before you go all nuts about me and the drinkin’,” Ed said, holding up a hand as he followed Jase into the kitchen area. “Let me explain.”

“That’s what you think this is about? Your drinking?”

“Well, yeah. Didn’t you say that—” Ed’s eyes narrowed.

“That’ll wait, Dad. Let’s start a little farther back, before last night.” Jase reined in his temper as best he could. With all his effort, he slowly and silently counted to ten, opening and closing a fist to release some tension.

“So what’s this? You gonna punch me out?” Ed asked, settling into a chair at the small table near the slider.

“Thinkin’ about it.”

The old man cocked an eyebrow. “What’s going on, son? What’s got you so riled?”

“Mom.” Jase let the word hang in the air.

“What? Her?” Ed shook his head. “She’s not your worry. That two-timing—”

“Stop!” Jase yelled. “Don’t! Just don’t, Dad.” He gripped the edge of the counter. “I’ve heard it before. And it’s a lie.”

“A lie? Sheeeit. No way, that woman—”

“That woman is my mother and yes, she left you. I don’t know why, but it sure as hell was not because her son died. She left and she took him with her.”

Ed froze, his eyes shifting from side to side.

“He didn’t die, Dad, and you know it,” Jase said through barely moving lips. “I found no record of any Edward Bridges Junior in any birth records, nor does he have a death certificate that I could locate.”

“We had a boy.”

“Yes, you did. Actually, you really did have three sons, Dad.” Jase let go of the counter, the impression of its edge still on his palms. “And the youngest one? The one who was supposed to have died? Ed Junior, you said. Born a couple years after me? An infant when Mom took off?”

Ed’s face went ashen and his eyes suddenly appeared haunted. He licked his lips nervously. “Yeah, that’s right,” he said, but there wasn’t any conviction behind his words.

“No, Dad, it’s wrong. And he didn’t die, did he? That brother? He survived. When Mom took off, she took him with her. That’s what you meant last night, when you slipped up. After all these years, you finally screwed up and mentioned that you chose me and Prescott. But the third son, the baby, he left with Mom, didn’t he?”

Ed didn’t answer, but located his near-empty pack of Camels in his shirt pocket.

“Didn’t he?” Jase yelled.