But my hand moved anyway.
I bent down and picked up a second photograph.
Richard again.
This time he was standing beside Liam’s mother near an old motel sign.
I knew the place.
The Greenbrook Motor Lodge.
It had been torn down years ago.
On the back of the photograph was a date.
August 14.
Twenty-seven years earlier.
I calculated automatically.
Liam would have been conceived around that time.
I stared at him.
“No.”
He looked away.
“No.”
My voice became louder.
“Liam, no.”
He crouched and began gathering the papers from the porch.
“I didn’t come here to hurt you.”
“Then what is this?”
He stopped.
I held up the photograph.
“What is this?”
His eyes met mine.
“It’s proof.”
“Proof of what?”
He said nothing.
I suddenly knew.
Or thought I knew.
And I hated him for not saying it first.
“Richard had an affair with your mother.”
Liam nodded.
The world seemed to tilt.
I gripped the porch railing.
“When?”
“For years.”
I stared at him.
“How many years?”
“I don’t know exactly.”
“You brought me a box full of evidence, but you don’t know?”
His face tightened.
“I know it started before I was born.”
I closed my eyes.
The afternoon air felt too warm.
My lungs felt too small.
Somewhere down the street, a lawn mower started.
A dog barked.
A car passed Maplewood Lane.
Everything continued.
As if my life hadn’t just cracked open on the porch.
I looked at Liam again.
“Why would your mother keep photographs?”
“She didn’t.”
“What?”
“My father did.”
That confused me.
“Your father?”
“Paul.”
I remembered Liam’s father clearly.
Paul Parker.
Tall.
Silent.
Hard-faced.
He worked construction jobs when he could get them.
He rarely spoke to me beyond a nod.
His wife, Marlene, was stricter.
Everything in their house had rules.
Food.
Bedtimes.
Television.
Friends.
Noise.
Liam could make a mistake simply by breathing too loudly.
I had never liked either of them.
But I had always believed they were simply severe people.
I looked down at the papers.
“Why would Paul have these?”
“Because he knew.”
My throat tightened.
“He knew Richard was sleeping with Marlene?”
“Yes.”
“And he stayed?”
Liam laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“That’s not the strange part.”
“What is?”
He looked directly at me.
“He knew Richard was my father.”
I stared at him.
The porch seemed to disappear beneath my feet.
“No.”
“That’s what I came to tell you.”
“No.”
“Mrs. Hayes—”
“No.”
I shook my head hard.
“You don’t know that.”
