Page 24 of The Things We Never Say

He said, “Rob, I don’t believe this. I mean, he was probably just yanking your chain.”

“Yanking my chain?” And then Rob said, leaning forward toward his father, “But I understand your reaction, I kept thinking the same thing: This can’t be true. But the DNA didn’t lie.”

“I don’t understand DNA,” Artie said.

“It doesn’t matter, you don’t have to. But I was a perfect match with that—that asshole.” After a moment Rob stood up. “I’m going to make us tea,” he said, and he went into the kitchen.

Francesca put her hand on Artie’s knee, and leaning forward slightly, she said softly, “When Rob had the DNA test, when he really did find out that this was true, he came home and said to me, I love Dad even more.”

Rob called out from the kitchen. “It’s true, Dad!” Rob appeared, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, and he said, “I didn’t even know I could love you more, but I do.”

And then Artie had a memory: He said slowly, “Come in here, Rob. I want to tell you something.” And so Rob came back into the living room and sat down again across from Artie. Artie said, looking from Rob to Francesca and back again, “When you were a baby, I can remember”—and this memory made Artie really happy to recall—“I remember so clearly holding you and thinking to myself: I could not possibly love this child more. And then”—Artie’s eyebrows shot up as he recalled this—“and then all of a sudden it was as though a cloud, a huge billowing cloud, would come right out of me, and it was love, and I would think: Wow, I love him even more! And this happened throughout your childhood. Every time I thought I cannot love you more, I did.” He beamed at his son, and his son reached for his hand.

—

He stayed for almost two hours, and they drank the tea that Rob had made, and the three of them discussed the situation. It was Rob’s belief that Reginald had been in love with his mother, and Francesca thought this also. But she added that she thought that Evie had probably been sort of in love with him as well, “maybe even a little bit off and on as the years went by and Reginald watched Rob growing up.”

This thought destabilized Artie as much as the original news had, and he just listened as they quietly put forth their different thoughts on this. “Nobody else knows,” Francesca said at one point, and Artie said he understood that from Rob.

“I don’t think Flossie ever knew,” Rob said, and Artie agreed with him. Reginald had asserted that in his letter, and Artie did not believe that Flossie could have kept a secret like that.

“Good luck telling Evie.” Francesca said this to Artie.

“I’m not going to tell her.” Artie looked at Rob, who raised his shoulders slightly. “But Rob can tell her whenever he wants to.”

“You’re not going to tell her?” Francesca said. “Really?”

“I have no idea why. But I don’t feel like going home tonight and telling her. I have no idea when—or if—I’ll tell her.” Again, he looked over at Rob. “You tell her whenever you want to.” He added, “You might want to give me a heads-up, though.” He thought he’d said this jokingly but was aware that it had not come off that way.

Rob said, “No plans to tell her either, Dad. If you do, let me know. And I’ll let you know when and if I ever do.”

—

When Artie finally rose to leave, Rob stood and picked up the letter from the table near Artie, and he said, “Dad, I don’t want this in my home, I don’t want it near me,” and so Artie said, “I’ll take it then,” and he slipped it into his coat pocket. Right before he hugged Francesca again, he said to her, “What are you doing for Thanksgiving?” Earlier Rob had said that Rachel was going to her parents’ home in Oklahoma. But Francesca’s mother had died a few years earlier, and Francesca had been an only child.

“Oh,” she said with a shrug, “don’t know.”

“Well, come have it with us,” Artie said, and Rob placed his hand on Francesca’s back and said, “That’s what I keep telling her.”

“It’s too weird,” Francesca said, looking down briefly. “I mean, you know, we’re breaking up and—”

“Who cares,” Artie said. “Jesus, who cares what you two are up to, you’re still a part of the family, come on over.”

“I’m afraid Evie will find it strange.”

And now Artie laughed. He put his head back and really laughed. “You’re afraid that Evie will find it strange? After—? Oh, come on, Francesca, let her find it really strange, we don’t care.” And she and Rob were laughing too, though not with the loudness of Artie’s laugh.

He hugged them both, and off he went into the dark chilly air.

—

As he reached his car, he stopped. Then he turned and walked back to the apartment building, buzzing their apartment. Almost immediately Rob called down through the intercom, “Dad?” And Artie said, “Yeah, I have something to ask you.”

“Come back up,” Rob said, and so Artie went back into the building, climbing the stairs to their apartment, his heart banging by the time he got there. Francesca looked surprised to see him, and Artie said, standing there in his coat, “Rob, do you believe in free will?”

Rob’s face broke into an expression of pleasure. “Dad,” he said. “Dad. We are related! Because I’ve been wondering about that too. Why do you ask?”

“Because I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Before I fell into the water, I was getting kind of obsessed about it. What if there is no free will?”