Tom put down his coffee cup and stared at his daughter. "What?"
Shaking a sheet of paper in front of his face, Tiffany repeated her question. "Who is this Vlad guy? He sent me this stupid letter and claims he might be my father! What's he talking about, Daddy?"
Tom reached for the letter with shaking hands. He'd never dreamed that Vlad would resurface after so many years. Why would he? Vlad had been a very brief chapter, maybe even a paragraph, in his ex-wife's love life so why would he decide to pop up now? "May I read that?" he asked.
"I don't care," Tiffany replied. The smile that she had worn to breakfast was replace with a very unhappy frown. Damn. Just when we were starting to get somewhere. Tom was brand new at this parenting business but he remembered what it was like to be a teenager and how every little thing could be painful. Tiffany had more to deal with than just 'little things,' such as accidentally running her mother over, living with her cold aunt and her cold aunt's certifiable boyfriend, finding out that Tom was her father, losing her uncle to murder--the list went on and on. Tom had been hoping that their life together was beginning to settle down but now he wasn't quite so sure.
He picked up the letter, put on his reading glasses and scanned it quickly. You do not remember me. How could you? You weren't even born when I left your country to return to mine. But I remember you--or rather I remember the news of you from your beautiful mother whom I loved very much. I am back in the United States now and I'd like to meet you. Perhaps your mother could arrange a meeting between the three of us...
Tom stopped reading. "He doesn't know your mom is dead,"
"Which means that he doesn't know I killed her." Tiffany reached for another bagel, her third, and slathered it with a thick layer of cream cheese. Tom wanted to tell her not to do that, not to take immediate refuge in food but he resisted the temptation. He had been living with his daughter for only a few weeks but he already knew that when Tiffany felt like her back was up against a wall, she usually found solace in a box of chocolate covered donuts or an extra large pizza.
"It was an accident," Tom reminded her.
Tiffany didn't look convinced. "Who is this guy? Do you know him?"
Tom didn't answer his daughter's question right away. He needed to figure out a way to tell her that yes, he knew who Vlad was and also that yes, it was highly possible that Vlad was Tiffany's father.
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