Quinn and Kimberly Harris

"For sure," he said. She noticed that he shuddered at the thought. It was a slight shudder but a noticeable one.

What neither of them noticed was the shadow of the girl just around the corner in the hall. Samantha was devastated, shocked, hurt, worried, more . . . Her dad, her real dad wasn't her dad; he was her uncle! She didn't know what to do. But, really, there was only one thing that she could do, should do: she had to confront the two in the kitchen. She walked in on them.

"Mom? Is it true?" she said. The shock on the older woman's face as she realized that the cat was out of the bag was close to total.

"My God! Honey, it's not what you think . . ." started Kimberly Harris.

"Kim, no she needs to know. It's time," said Henry Harris. His wife stared daggers at him.

"It's true, Sam. I'm - well - I'm your biological dad. It was an accident. Your dad, uncle, my brother and your mom were already married. One night at a party - well, we were drunk. We were young and we were drunk. Well, and we did things. And well, then there was you.

"Sam, I loved your mom even then. But, she was married to my brother. For years every time the family got together, I would see her, your mom; and, well, I'd die a little inside because I knew I could never have her. Her husband, my brother, loved her too. So . . . I lived in pain: the pain of loss.

"But then, two years ago now, your mom who is a lot smarter than I am, decided to cut to the chase and hit me with it, the question," he said.

"Question?" said Sam.

"She asked me if I loved her. I said yes. The rest you know," said Henry.

"So my dad is my uncle? The man who raised me is not my real dad," said Sam.

"Honey, you have two dads is the way I look at it. Quinn Harris is as real a dad as any in dad in the world. Henry Harris is your bio dad.

"When I broke your daddy's heart, I broke my own as well; mine because I hurt him. But, I could not help myself.

"Sam, believe me I've wanted to tell you, to tell him. I still love the man on some level. I do. So, I should also say does my husband, Henry Harris." She glanced in her husband's direction. "But, Quinn can never know. As bad as he feels now, that knowledge would destroy him," said Kimberly Harris.

"Sam, would you come with me for a moment," said Henry. He shot his wife a look that spelled that he needed to talk to his "niece" alone. He also noted and with some dismay the girl's apparent angst. "Please." She nodded and followed him into the library.

Henry Harris sank into a seat at the head of the large oak table that dominated the window side of the large bookshelf lined room. Sam took a seat across from him but did so more deliberately. They stared at each other for a long moment.

"Sam, Quinn Harris, your dad, and yes he is your dad, and you need to think of him that way; well, he's my brother too. I miss him. I hate myself for what I did to him. But, I could not help myself any more than your mom could; I have loved your mom since the first time I saw her on my lucky brother's arm.

"Sam, Kimberly Fairchild should never have married your dad. She was meant to be mine. But, Quinn already had dibs. I feared that if I took her, or tried to take her, away from him that the repercussions for the family would be horrendous. Quinn is more than loved by every one of our relatives and friends. Well, and what I feared then has turned out to be true: the repercussions of my putting in my claim to your mother have been disastrous. Your aunt Millie hardly speaks to me or your mom either," he said, "and it's even worse with most of the rest of our family."

"So, you fucked my mother and she had me, and now I'm supposed to call you dad. Is that it?" said Sam. The man looked down. It was clear that the girl was having a hard time with it all.

He shrugged. "I won't kid you, Sam, I'd like that; but, I will understand if you don't want to," he said.

"I need to talk to my dad," she said.

"Sam, what your mom said in there was a true thing. Quinn could not handle it. If you or anyone tells him, it's going to be very bad. Entirely my fault, but the bad will be mostly on him. He just won't be able to handle it. Please, Sam, do not tell him. If you see him, and you will at some point, don't tell him. For his good, not mine or even your mom's," said Henry.

The silence in the room was but a prelude to the typhoon of misery that was to come.

******

She knocked tentatively, softly, but loud enough to be heard inside the house. The older woman answered the knock.

"Sam! What brings you here and on a school day," said aunt Millie.

The conversation lasted some three hours. Mostly with aunt Millie comforting the girl.

"Sam, Quinn Harris is your dad, your real dad regardless of DNA or whatever they are using these days to determine parentage. I watched that man raise you. I watched while he struggled to make as good a living as he could for you and your mother. When you see him again, the first words out of your mouth must be, 'I love you, daddy', got it?" said aunt Millie. The girl nodded.

"I know, aunt Millie, I just don't know how I'm supposed to act, think, do anymore. It's going to be so hard."

"I know, baby girl. Your mom and Henry Harris have a lot to answer for. Someday it'll hit 'em, and they will fully realize what they have done, the hurt that they have caused and not just to your dad or to you.

"I know, aunt Millie," the elder female smiled.

"Samantha, we will find your dad, that good man, and we will do our best to help him get by it all. We'll likely fail, but at least he will know that there are people in this family that care about him and his feelings. Sam, one thing your mom said was absolutely true; he will have a very hard time of it once he does know, at least at first."

"That's what uncle Henry said too," said Sam.

"Yes, and he's right on that score, Sam. But that said, in the final analysis it'll be your decision to tell or not to tell," said aunt Millie.

******

"You look terrible," said Lillian Franks, age seventeen, classmate of seventeen year-old Samantha Harris.

"Why wouldn't I? I haven't got a date for the prom. It's our senior year and I don't have anyone to go with!" said Samantha.

"Yes, big surprise, and it's your own fault," said Lillian. "You've turned down three guys already. All the other studs are afraid to ask you; their insufferable male egos can't take the hit. But, like we talked about, you can go with me and Roger Bolger if you want. You can pick up a date at the prom and use him to escort you to the parties. Okay?" said Lillian.

"You sure Roger won't mind?" said Samantha.

"Heck no," said Lillian. "It'll be a blast. Anyway, I happen to know that he has the hots for you, but just remember, tonight I own his personal body. Okay!" The two girls giggled.

The preparations for the prom were manifold and costly as every parent is absolutely well aware. The boys have it a bit easier, but even they have challenges. The two girls were hanging out at the Kimberly and Hank Harris' house. It was three days until the prom.

"So who is going to drive us if Roger doesn't come up with the money for the limousine?" said Samantha, "I know he doesn't have a car himself."

"Me I guess," said Lillian. "Like we talked about last week. It'll be better than one of our parents delivering us for sure. Mine'll let me have the car, but won't allow Roger to drive it; that's ironclad."

"Okay. But, I did get my license a couple of months ago," said Kimberly. "If you want I can drive, if your parent will allow, and you and Roger can make out." The two girls laughed at the imagery. They stopped laughing when they heard the front door open and close.

"Hello, girls," said Henry Harris. "What's happening?"

"Nothing, dad," said Kimberly. "Just making final plans for the prom."

"You guys still going as a trio?" said Henry.

"Yes, mister Harris," said Lillian. "Deciding who's going to be driving is all."

"Hmm, yes. But, I thought that that your boyfriend was renting a limo," said Henry.

"Little money problem. His dad lost his job. But, as for that he's still hoping to come up with enough to take care of that. But, just in case, we may be borrowing your Lexus," laughed Lillian.

"Yeah, dad, that's a class car almost as good as a limo," said Samantha.

"Hmm, fat chance girls," said Henry, "that's one car you may not drive. Sam, why don't you drive your own car?" Samantha gave her dad, and yes that's what she'd been calling him for almost a year, a look.

"Huh?" said Sam.

"Your car, your own car," said Henry. "And park the damn thing in the garage right now, if you don't mind, it's blocking the driveway. Sam's eyes shot open. She had no car. But, her dad had just indicated that she did. That could only mean one thing. She rushed to the back door and looked out across the little parkway toward the garage.

It couldn't be her car. She didn't know much about cars, but the car sitting in the middle of that driveway was a brand new Lincoln Continental. She knew that's what it was because Sonia Gilchrist's mom drove one, and she'd been in it more than once.

"Daddy!" she yelped.

"Yes, yes, it's yours," said her biological father. The screams that shook the walls of the Harris kitchen cold be heard on Oahu.

The man extended the keys to the girl. She rushed to him and kissed him on the cheek. The two girls literally danced their way to the car.

******

"She liked the car then," said Kimberly Harris.

"Duh yuh think?" said Henry. "I had to do it. Once she started calling me daddy it was a no brainer for me."

"Gotta wonder how Quinn would react if he knew," said Kimberly.

"Not well. He'd see it as a bribe, but it's just a thank you present from my point of view," he said. His wife nodded.

******

It was an anniversary of a kind I suppose. It was on this date or close to it three years ago that my world collapsed. But, my good buddy, John Daniels was hanging in there with me.

"How yuh doin' cowboy," said Sloan. I smiled, she was my other friend.

"Good, good, I guess," I said. "You?"

"Also, good. Not doing much, just working, you know," she said. I didn't want to ask her, but I decided to anyway.

"How's my kid. You still teaching her?" I said.

"Good, I guess. And, yes, she's still in the program. You probably don't know it, but her prom was last week. I hear she had a lot of fun," said Sloan.

"Good, good," I said. For some reason, or maybe no reason the news, that my Sam was doing well, hurt me. Selfish on my part I guessed. I guess I wanted her to miss me too much to feel good. Life sure sucked if one were me.

"Wanna dance?" I asked. She gave me a look.

"Maybe some other time, Quinn, I have to be going. Got a ton of stuff to take care of for Monday's classes. Raincheck?" she said.

"Sure bet," I said. I watched as she headed off to the exit. I wondered why she kept chatting me up and then leaving or ignoring me every time she saw me. I doubted she was spying for Samantha. I was pretty sure that she hadn't outted me, that as per my nightly location. Well, it was what it was.

******

"She's one of her moods?" said Henry.

"Yes. About once a month you can lay book that she'll sit around and be despondent wondering about him." Kimberly took on a pensive look. She spoke addressing the absent presence of her ex-husband. "Oh, Quinn where are you my friend." Her now husband nodded. His look mirrored hers.

"He should be here, Kim. Yes, it's our fault that he's not, but he needs to man up and be here. He has a . . ." started Henry.

"Yes, a daughter," she said. "And, she is his daughter just as much as she is ours if not more so."

"No argument from me," he said. "Yeah, I wish I knew where he was too. At least I think I do."

They went silent as they heard her coming down the stairs.

"Mom, dad, I just found something," said Samantha. The two elder Harrises stared at her.

"What did you find?" said Kimberly Harris.

"This," said Sam. She held out a matchbook. "It's a matchbook from a place dad used to go to I think. I was looking through a box of my old stuff, and . . . "

Henry Harris, took the proffered memento of a long ago time. "Hmm, yes, we - he - used to go there from time to time. It wasn't exactly his hangout though, Sam. He just liked the piano player. He and your . . ."

"Yes, he and I used to go dancing there once in a while, Sam. But Sam there is a no reason to believe that he would be going there with any regularity now," said Kimberly Harris.

"And, no reason to think he might not be," countered Samantha Harris.

"Honey, the one thing that we do know is that your dad does not want to be found," said Kimberly.

"Sam, I'm your dad's, your other dad's, brother and he has cut us off. What your mom and I did - well - we did it wrong. We fell in love, but as I think I told you before, not when you were fourteen, but the night you were conceived.

"I made a mistake then and stepped aside for my brother whose husband was your mother's at the time. I should not have stepped aside; your mom should have been mine. Yes, my brother had got his bid in first, but there is really no such thing as dibs in human relationships. Your mom belonged with me. But, as I said, I stepped aside. But my love for your mom never died; so, I put in my claim fourteen years late and after the fact. It killed your dad's heart. I will go to my grave with the guilt I feel over that.

"Girl, it is my hope, my sincerest hope, that my brother and I - let alone you and your mom - can one day be good. You have no idea. I know that all of us miss the man. But, it has to be him that contacts us, not us him. Can you understand that, Sam. It has to be his idea. If it isn't, it won't work long term. I know it, I know it as a great truth," said Henry. The girl stood across the room watching her bio dad pacing as he spoke. Her gaze flitted periodically to her mom whose head hung while her husband spoke.

"I have to go out," said Sam.

"Sam?" said Henry.

"Yes, dad, I understand what you're saying. But, I do have to go out. Lillian is expecting me. We're going to work on my speech. I'm salutatorian you know. Graduation is in two weeks and I need to work on my speech. Okay!" she said. The two adults nodded.

******

"She's going to try and find him," said Kim. "Maybe not today, but she is."

"I'm afraid so. I want her to, but I don't want her to if that makes any sense whatsoever," he said.

"It does, I'm of the same mind. I want to say things to him. I just - well - but, I just don't know what they are," she said. "If she finds him, she will tell him the truth, all of the truth. I know it." He nodded.

"Yes, I'm sure she will. And, the fallout will be horrific.

"You know he might be spending time at the Lamplighter. It was our favorite sometime hangout in spite of what I said a few minutes ago," said Henry.

"Yes, I know. I never thought about checking the place out until she found that stupid matchbook," she said.

******

"Whatcha need girly-girl," said Roscoe to the obvious teenager.

"Uh - I'm looking for someone," said Samantha.

"Okay?" he said.

"Quinn Harris," she said. The man's face showed surprise and something else - recognition. This had to be the man's daughter.

"Uh, he's not here tonight," said the bartender.

"Do you know where he works?" she said. The man had busied himself with polishing a glass to its virgin sparkle.

"And, who might you be?" he said.

"I'm his daughter. I'm Samantha Harris," she said. He nodded.

"Look honey, I don't know who gave you this address, but I know something of your story. Your dad has talked to me some. Why don't you let me deliver him a message. He - well - he doesn't want to be found if I have it right," he said. Roscoe Lamm did have it right. He knew damn near the whole story. But, the look on the little girl's face made shining her on real hard; in fact, it made it impossible.

"Mister, I really need to talk to him. It's been three years. I made a huge mistake back then. I need to make it up to my dad. Okay?" she said.

"Okay, but you didn't get this from me," he said. He scribbled an address on a napkin. "It's where he works." The girl's smile made the risk he was taking worth it. He was sure she would have kissed him if she'd been on the worker side of the bar. He smiled her his "You're welcome."

She drove to Lillian Franks' house. Well, she did have a speech to work on. And, she needed advice. Lillian was her advisor best friend and mentor in regards to things social.

******

"Yes, you should go there. Your dad, and he is your dad in spite of you know what, needs you as much as you need him. But, you need to be real careful talking about the 'you know what'," said Lillian.

"Yes, I know. I'm almost too afraid to tell him," said Samantha.

"Yes, I understand, but if you hide it or try to, when he does find out that you knew, things will not be good," said Lillian. Samantha nodded her most serious nod.

"Yes," she said. "The time for truth and all is now. I need him, Lil. I really need him. I love my dad."

"I know, baby, I know. And, you're right. You need to be straight with him. In the long run in spite of the hurt, he will appreciate your honesty. Really," said Lillian.

"You're the greatest, Lil," said Sam. "You're a lot smarter than me."

"Oh yeah, that goes without saying," said Lillian Franks, laughing uproariously. The two girls giggled for half an hour over this or that idea.

******

He saw the brand new Lincoln Continental pulling up the drive; the windows were darkened. "Hermione, tell your mom that she has a visitor," said Quinn to the younger of the Childress daughters.

The girl disappeared. Then two things happened. Another teenager made her appearance, debarking as she did from the driver's side of the Lincoln. And second, the man watching her, one Quinn Harris, nearly fainted from surprise - no, shock.

"Hi dad," said Samantha Harris, she was smiling, but it was but a hopeful smile.

"Samantha!" I said.

Just then Anita Childress made her appearance. "Quinn?" she said, noting the young girl standing next to the sixty-thousand dollar ride.

"Missus Childress this is my daughter, Samantha Harris," I said.

The next minute was consumed with the necessary pleasantries. Done missus Childress made her apologies and left the Harrises to their own devices.

A long minute of utter silence ensued. Samantha broke it. "It's been too long my daddy," said Sam. I nodded.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "How did you find me?"

"You left something behind that gave me a clue and then I asked around," she said.

"I left something behind?" I said. I knew that I had left nothing behind. She was dodging the issue.

"A matchbook. It was from the Lamplighter," she said.

"A matchbook?" I said. I wanted to say a "fucking" matchbook. Hell, I didn't even smoke. At any rate, she'd gone to the lounge and asked around; and, here she was. I had to give her credit. She was sharp, too damn sharp!

"Dad, can we talk. I mean privately," she said. I had to admit to curiosity, a lot of curiosity.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "That your ride?"

"Yes," she said. I noted that she suddenly took on a sheepish look, well, it looked like a sheepish look to me. Whatever, it was a real nice ride and far beyond my poor economic ability to purchase. My good ex-brother knew how to ensure loyalty - even love maybe.

The waitress at the Roundtree took our orders and retreated to see to them. I nursed the coffee she'd brought with her along with her order pad. The Roundtree was a ma and pa operation but a scant two miles from the Childress household. Over the year plus since being employed there, I'd eaten there numerous times. Gayle, our waitress now seeing to our orders, knew me by name.