Dinner was ruined by the time you were two hours late, I was frantic, I called your parents, your sister, the police and all the local hospitals, all our friends. No one knew where you were, or could be. It was just before ten when you pulled up outside, I was so relieved, I hurriedly sent a text to all those that I had worried telling them you were home. You were singing as you opened the door, do you remember? Yes you were singing, until you smelled the ruined dinner, turned and saw me rushing to you with tears streaming. Can you remember what you said to me? Can you? Any other birthday you would have apologised, you would have been repentant, you would have been sorry and loving. Then again every other birthday you were home on time. It was our tradition. But what did you say to me? ‘Why are you home already?’ as though you had no idea, and the look on your face should have told me everything. It didn’t, I trusted you. I was hurt when you told me you had already eaten, that you. “You’re forgiven? I’m still angry. It fucking hurt after all these years to find out the father I love, who raised me, isn’t my sperm donor.” He bit out the last two words with more anger than he’d intended.Uncle Bob flinched, but his grimace returned quickly. “Well, I’m not comfortable with what’s been going on in here for the past week.”“You don’t even know what’s been going on here,” Jeff replied, his eyes drilling Uncle Bob while his hands continued to ease the beads down Amy’s hair. “You’ve made assumptions, jumped to conclusions. But then you also screwed my Mom, so hey, it’s all good.” Jeff’s sour tone grated in his own ears, but he couldn’t seem to stop.“Now who’s jumping to conclusions,” Uncle Bob mumbled.“I believe that I’m all the evidence I need for that particular assumption.” Jeff gritted his teeth and returned to Amy’s hair. “It’s the hypocrisy that bothers me the most.”“What hypocrisy?” Uncle Bob said as he shifted uncomfortably.Jeff looked at his mother. “How old.
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