“David,” a beautiful, glamorous woman starts as we walk into the kitchen of David’s parents’ home. Her eyes immediately jump to me, and she gasps. “You must be Talia!” she cries, her eyes wide and face beaming. She looks at David approvingly then pulls me into a tight hug. How she knew I was me, I have no idea. “Come!” she says, wedging herself between David and me, an arm around each of us and leads us through the first floor of her beautiful home to the most amazing backyard I could ever imagine with giant trees, a tree swing, and to the right, a large yet cozy deck with a fireplace and all with a view of a pond. “Everyone! Look who’s here!”

We step onto the stone patio full of people, most I don’t recognize, but one I do. Jimmy. He was so nice at the Lake Shake.

David makes the introductions, using my ‘false’ name of Talia instead of my real name. I actually am starting to prefer Talia over Crystal. I do my best to remember everyone’s names, but I know it’ll be a challenge—and clearly, everyone knows about me which makes me feel a little more than awkward.

After David kisses my cheek and heads off to commiserate with the men while I’m left with the women, I’m welcomed by David’s mother, Patty, Jimmy’s wife, Debbi, Aunt Tina, and the Waterston’s neighbor, Marlene. They ask questions but don’t pry, and for that I’m grateful.

Before long, David’s dad announces that the ribs are ready, the women spring into action, darting here and there with plates, silverware, beverages, and side dishes. I feel awkward in their seemingly well-orchestrated dance of who handles what, but I offer my help, and they put me to work. Everyone digs in, and it’s a family dinner I’d often dreamed of.

Over dinner, I love all the familiarity of the couples and the stories that everyone volunteers about the Waterston family, focusing on David, like everyone wants me to know how amazing David is—as if I didn’t already know. I’m relieved that I’m not grilled about my past. It was hard enough to tell David. I help clear the table ever mindful of the dishes that were definitely NOT a part of some promotion at the local supermarket and join everyone on the deck around the fire pit.

“Jimmy’s right,” Debbie, says. “Talia is delightful.”

“Thanks,” I reply in complete agreement, and to Jimmy, I add, “And thanks for your advice.”

I catch Talia's eye and wave her over. Graciously, she excuses herself from Aunt Tina and Marlene and comes to me.

“Talia,” Jimmy says. “It really is so good to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you as well, Mr. Goodman and to meet your wife.” Talia smiles at Debbie who smiles right back.

“Stop with the ‘Mr. Goodman’ business, okay? Please call me Jimmy. Everyone does.”

“Speaking of names,” Debbie says politely. “Talia is an unusual name. It’s Jewish, right?”

Talia glances at me nervously. I know it’s because of her name. She isn’t sure if she should tell everyone her story, or just let people call her Talia and move forward with the life she’s created. I let the decision be up to her, and I told her I would support whatever choice she made. I see her nervous habit of rubbing her thumb and finger together and take her under my arm. She clears her throat and “Talia is actually a nickname from my brother.” Talia tells them her real name which relieves me greatly and then tells how she got the nickname and that she decided to use a new name when she moved to Chicago.

“So, where did you move from?” Jimmy asks.

“A super small town in southern Illinois. Harton,” she divulges. I’m so proud that she’s being so forthcoming. I would have held all these secrets for her, and will still hold others until she reveals them, but so much better not to have to keep things from my family.

“Really? Harton?” Jimmy asks and chuckles. “Wow. That brings back some memories.”

“Isn’t that where your Uncle Chuck lived?”

“Yeah. Wow. Small world.”

“So, you’ve been?” Talia asks with great interest.

“Believe it or not, I used to want to be a mechanic. I’m from Springfield, and my Uncle Chuck had this little garage in Harton. And summers while I was in high school, he let me stay with him and tinker on the easy jobs that came in.”

“That’s right! Back when everyone called you Goodwrench,” Debbie says, laughing.

Talia stiffens in my arm, and when I look down, I see her looking positively pale.

“Then once in college, my dad talked to this guy who talked to that guy, and the summer after graduation I found myself in an internship program at the law firm. That’s where I learned I really loved law.”

“Wh… When was that?” she asks timidly, her voice tiny and wavering, forcing a smile. She swallows then adds, “When you were in Harton.”

“Oh, geez. That’s gotta go back to…” Jimmy runs his hand through his hair and scratches the back of his neck. “Summers from 1992 to 1994. I imagine a lot’s changed since then.”

Talia nods, and the conversation shifts to what Jimmy and Debbie have planned for their upcoming anniversary—twenty years.

When Debbie and Jimmy have joined Marlene and Albert with talk about where to stay in Bali, I lead Crystal to a quiet corner. “Hey, you okay?” She’s been uncomfortably quiet since the whole Harton conversation. “Are you afraid that Jimmy might know your mom?”

She doesn’t answer me, but her eyes are wide, and she looks like she might be sick. She glances around and asks, “Can we talk somewhere?”

Her question surprises me, but the fear and uncertainty in her voice grips my heart, so I usher her down the hallway and into my old bedroom.

We step into a room down a dark hallway, and when I look around, I realize this is David’s old bedroom. Tan and blue plaid bedding with a coordinated wallpaper and paint job surround us. Photos of David with family and various people on sailboats, on rowing and sailing teams, as well as ribbons and trophies line the walls. Baseball caps and mitts make a display tucked in the corner. It’s like a shrine to David’s youth.

“What’s up?” David says once the door is closed, and we’re sitting on the edge of his bed. His face is so filled with concern my heart does a little squeeze.

How do I tell David the crazy thought spinning through my head? It’s so absurd I’m sure I’ve started making things up. Hell, I almost expect to see the Mad Hatter run through the room and find the Cheshire Cat up on a shelf wagging his tail and grinning at me.

I haven’t given this whole notion any thought for the past twelve years or so. But the coincidences add up and are unavoidable to address.

“Talia, just say it. You’re scaring me.”

“I don’t think Jimmy just knew my mom…” I start, the rest of the idea seeming more and more outlandish as I think of it. Yet, at the same time, so many pieces fit together. David looks at me, waiting for me to finish my thought. “I think he might be my dad.”

David blinks a few times and is silent.

I should have just kept my darn mouth closed. I’m ruining everything.

“Forget it. I don’t know what I’m thinking.” I move to get up from the bed, but David pulls me back.

“I’m not saying you’re wrong, I just don’t know what to say. What makes you think he could be your father?”

“It’s a number of things, and one really big thing. For starters, I was born in 1994. He was there then. And he has red hair. No one else in my mom’s side of the family has red hair. Something contributed to my coloring. And I feel really comfortable around him. But the big thing…” My mouth is dry. I swallow and finish my thought. “My mom always said she didn’t know who my dad was. She has said it could be a number of guys, but one guy she thought was a possibility was someone named Goodwrench. Okay, now that I’m saying this out loud really makes me seem crazy. I’m sorry, I—”

“Not crazy, Tal. That’s a lot of coincidences. You know something? Your little finger and thumb rubbing thing? The thing you do when you’re nervous?” I look down at my hand and rub my thumb in circles on my index finger and glance at David who is looking at the small thing I do. “Yeah, that. Jimmy does it, too.”

I stop the motion and look at David. He doesn’t think I’m crazy after all. His eyes search my face like he’s doing some math equation. “You know something else? I do see some uncanny resemblance between the two of you.”

“So now what? I can’t just say ‘Hey. I think you’re my dad.’ I mean, I wasn’t even looking. I stopped thinking about finding my father when I was eleven or twelve.”

“You’re right. This has to be handled delicately. Jeez, Jimmy was just a high schooler back then.”

I’m mortified when David puts it like that. My mom was twenty-six when I was born. Jimmy was really young.

“What a mess,” I breathe, dropping my head into my hands. “I should just forget this whole notion. I mean. I made it this far. I don’t need a dad.”

“Hey,” David says, gently taking hold of my shoulders. I realize I’m shaking. David pulls me into his arms and kisses the top of my head. “Everyone can benefit from a father no matter their age. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”