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I didn't pass anyone on the sidewalk, whichwasn't surprising on a hot Sunday afternoon. I mulledover how to approach the topic with Mike. I decided onabsolute honesty. I hoped I would be able to tell himthe story before he noticed.When I reached Mike's house, I found his older sisterMonica washing the family car in the driveway. She waswearing flip-flops, tight daisy-dukes, and a purplebikini top. Mike's sister was gorgeous, way out of myleague, and I'm sure she knew it."Oh, hi Jamie. How are you?" Okay." "I think Mike's inside somewhere."As I stood at the front door, I snatched a fewglimpses of her shapely behind as she leaned over thecar's hood. If those shorts were any shorter andtighter, her butt would pop out the bottom. My motherwould never let Julie wear anything like that.Mike's mother answered the door, said it was great tosee me, and ushered me into the entry hall where Islipped off my shoes."It's so hot out there," she said.I agreed that it was hot outside (in more ways. The man nodded and slowly rose from the driver's seat with his eyesnever leaving mine. "Your name is Kitty Sinclair, but sometimes I callyou Kitten as kind of a pet name, no pun intended." He offered me asmall smile that I didn't return."Who are you?" I asked carefully with narrowed eyes. If this man knewmy name and even had a pet name for me it could mean that the two of uswere close. Or, he could simply know my name and just made up the petname to put me at ease so I wouldn't suspect him of anything. Or maybehe was just making up my name on the spot. My mind was threatening tospin itself into confusion about this.He nodded and took a small step closer to me. "Yes I am. My name isCharles Sinclair, I'm your father."Not since Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, hey, I remember seeingthat, has a familial revelation been more of a bomb drop. For severalseconds I just stared at this man, my supposed father, with my mouthagape. No, this couldn't be true. I would remember my own.
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Politics, probably, he decided. He and Jason were frequently opposite on issues, and although Simon tried not to talk about it too much, sometimes he couldn’t help it. Jason tended to take a difference of opinion as a personal offence. Presumably Simon had questioned Jason’s position on something, and Jason had responded by ceasing communication. He got over it, but Simon had learned the best thing to do was apologize—which he had—and then wait for Jason. Ah, family, he thought, all dysfunctional in their own way, like Tolstoy said. The only thing wrong with dinner was that Lydia took any opportunity to get Ben and Connie talking together. That had made Simon not a little jealous, although he didn’t say anything. Still, he thought it was rude, to be encouraging someone’s girlfriend to pay attention to another man when her boyfriend was right there. After all, Simon thought, she doesn’t know we’re pretending. Connie and Ben noticed it, too. They rolled their eyes and chatted when.

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