The official looking letter stated that I was not my father’s daughter. How could he do that to me? Why did he hide my real father from me? He must have forced Mom to not say anything to me. I never knew that he wasn’t my real father. With all the things he did for me, I can’t believe he would lie! He made me call him ‘father’!
I needed answers, and I certainly could not trust the person who had been hiding it from me for all my life. No, I needed to find Mom and make her tell me what was going on. Maybe, then, she could explain how she could marry such an evil monster like my father?
Tracking her down required more effort than I thought. I tried Grandma and Grandpa, but they haven’t seen her since she left my father. All the aunts and uncles didn’t seem to know or care too much about her whereabouts. I was about ready to give up when I was reading the paper and came across the police blotter. There was a domestic disturbance out at one of the trailer parks, and it listed Mom’s name and some other guy. Finally, I would get my answers.
I’m not sure what I was expecting. Perhaps I was hoping the heavens would open up and all that was wrong in my life would be undone. That Mom’s home would be Utopia, and I could run away from the evil that lurked in my own home. Unfortunately, that was not the case. Instead, the front yard of this trailer park home was cluttered with litter and garbage. I wasn’t sure if the owner of the house was also running a junk yard or simply having a rummage sale for the last two years? The grass was either dead or overgrown. My father would have a stroke if he saw the way this yard looked. With as much time as he put in tending to his lawn, this place was an absolute disaster and a complete contrast from home.
Mom must have seen me pull up, because she was the first to greet me. At first, she didn’t recognize me. I know I didn’t recognize her. Her store bought blonde hair looked fake; and you could easily see the dark roots. While the tattoos were probably a good idea at the time she got them, but not so much now. She had let herself go since she left my father. When she finally realized I was her daughter, she hugged me and I could smell the nicotine on her clothes. It was enough for me to worry about getting cancer from second hand smoke.
The ‘tearful’ reunion didn’t last long, though. I immediately asked her who my father was. At first, she tried to lie say that my father was my real father. However, I held up the letter from that laboratory out in California. She frowned and eventually said that my real father was a ‘mistake’. That she loved my father, and that my biological father was just some guy she met at the diner where she worked. They had some fling that lasted about a year, but that he skipped town one night and was never seen again.
It was about this time that this balding, pot bellied beast of a man stepped out of the trailer as well. My biological father may have been a mistake, but I realized at that point in time that the summer clothes that I chose to wear that day was a huge mistake. This ugly looking pervert eyed me like I was a piece of meat. You could almost envision this twerp jacking off to porn and having the same look in his eyes as he did that very moment when he was looking at me. This was the guy that Mom left my father for? I threw up in my mouth, and then left. And just like Mom, I never looked back.