“What?” I finally asked.
“Giovani has the same father you do.”
The words echoed inside my head. Nothing else. Just those seven words. I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even blink. Instead, my mind drifted somewhere else.
Pops was jogging behind me while I learned how to ride my bike. Giovani was standing off to the side watching us. A few minutes later, Pops waved him over.
“Come on, G. Your turn.”
I remembered asking why. I was the only kid, and moments like this I felt should have been reserved for me and my dad only. Pops smiled before answering me.
“Every little boy deserves to know how to ride a bike.”
Another memory surfaced….
I got a new pair of sneakers before school started. A few days later, Pops showed up at Ms. Gia’s apartment carrying another shoebox. I thought he was making sure Giovani didn’t feel forgotten. I thought that’s just who my father was. A man with a big heart.
Now… those memories didn’t feel generous anymore. They felt guilty. They felt intentional. They felt like a father trying to love a son he couldn’t claim. I looked back across the table. My throat had gone dry.
“You knew?”
I hoped that this was something she figured out after my dad had died or something. I was trying to make sense of this. But there was no making sense of this shit. Ghost was a year older than me.
“I’ve always known,” she nodded.
I sat there in complete silence. My father never claimed one of his sons. His first son at that. Everything I thought I knew about my father was a lie. The man I knew would have stepped up and openly taken care of what was his. Theo Reynolds was a man who didn’t play that kind of shit. Or so I thought. I couldtell that Ms. Gia was trying to see how I would react to this information. Honestly, I could have flipped this fucking table over if it was bolted to the floor. Neither one of us spoke, and I couldn’t stop looking at her. I had so many questions I wanted to ask, but I knew that if she answered one, I would find ten more behind that.
Finally, I found my voice.
“Does Ghost know?”
She slowly shook her head.
“No.”
I frowned.
“So, I’m the first person that you’re telling?”
“You are.”
I leaned back in my chair and rubbed a hand over my face.
“Damn.”
Another long silence settled between us. Then another thought hit me.
“Did my daddy know?”
Her answer came almost immediately.
“Yes.”
I stared at her.
“He knew?” I asked again for clarification.
She nodded.