Secrets Untold

by Shelia M. Goss

  It must be him. I rushed to the bottom of the stairs. I took a few deep breaths before looking through the peephole. There he stood. My biological father. He looked just as handsome in person as he did on the television.

  His back was turned when I opened the door. He turned around to face me. “Hello there. I was just about to leave,” his baritone voice said, acknowledging me.

  “My, uh, parents will be here in a minute,” I stuttered.

  “I can wait in my car until they come,” he responded.

  If he wasn’t my father, I would have agreed. He was no stranger. He was Dion McNeil. He was my father. “You can wait in the living room. I’ll call my dad to let them know you’re here.” I moved to the side and allowed him inside the house. I gently closed the door behind him.

  “Which way is the living room?” he asked.

  He probably thought I was a dunce, from the way I was acting. “Follow me,” I responded. “Have a seat,” I said, as I moved out of his way. “I’ll be right back.”

  I dialed my mom’s number. “Where are y’all? He’s here,” I said, barely above a whisper.

  “Where is he now?” she asked.

  “He’s in the living room.”

  “You let that man in my house without us being there. Porsha, you shouldn’t have done that,” she snapped.

  “It’s not like he’s a mass murderer or anything. He’s my father.”

  “Shh. Before he hears you. Now you go back upstairs. Tell him we’ll be there in about five minutes. We had to drop off Jay and Jason for their overnight slumber party,” my mom responded before disconnecting the call.

  I wondered where they were. Good. My night would be brat-free with the two of them gone. I walked back to the living room and stood in the entryway for a few seconds. Before I could open my mouth to say anything, Dion said, “You’re just as beautiful as your mom.”

  I blushed. “Thanks. Mom said they would be here in five minutes.”

  “What school are you going to?” he asked.

  “Plano High.”

  “Really? So does my daughter Jasmine. You two are around the same age, so maybe you know her.”

  “I know of her, but we’re not friends.”

  “Maybe, after today, we can change that.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. There was an awkward silence.

  Dion broke it. “Where’s your bathroom?”

  “It’s down the hallway to the right.” I pointed in the direction of the bathroom.

  I remained standing in the doorway as he went to use the bathroom. Five minutes had long passed, so where were my parents? I really needed them to hurry up. I didn’t know how much longer I could talk to him without bombarding him with a lot of questions. I needed to know how he felt about me being his daughter. I needed answers.

  And, before the day was over, I planned on getting them.

  9

  It took my parents an extra fifteen minutes to get home. I knew because I was watching the clock. I decided to leave Dion in the living room by himself with his thoughts while I sat in the foyer waiting for my parents’ arrival.

  My mom rushed through the door. “Dear, where is he?” she asked.

  “He’s in the living room. What took y’all so long?” I asked.

  “Traffic, baby,” my dad responded. “Go upstairs. One of us will come get you when we’re ready.”

  I pouted. They were both too anxious to notice that I hadn’t retreated up the stairway. I watched them enter the living room hand in hand. Then I tiptoed closer to the living room door so I could hear, being careful not to expose myself.

  “Well, hello, Dion,” my dad said.

  “Trey. Angie.”

  “Dion,” my mom responded.

  There was an awkward silence.

  I moved closer and peeked in the room. Everyone’s back was toward the door so no one noticed I was there.

  My dad cleared his throat. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I called you here today.”

  Dion responded, “You did catch me off guard. We were friends once so I’m here.”

  My mom said, “This isn’t about your friendship. This is more important.”

  “There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just tell you,” my dad said.

  “Trey, you aren’t dying, are you? Man, I’m sorry. We can brush our past under the rugs. I’m here for you, man, if you need me,” Dion said, concern in his voice.

  I heard my dad say, “No, man. I’m in perfect health.”

  Dion’s head switched in the direction of my mother. “Angie?”

  “It’s about our daughter Dion. You and I have a daughter,” my mom blurted.

  “Say what?” he asked.

  My dad added, “What Angie is trying to say is, remember the time you and her cheated? Well, you left her with a package.”

  Dion stuttered, “It can’t be. We used a condom.”

  “Apparently, it broke,” my dad snapped.

  “Hey, man. I told you back then I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

  “Well, now you know,” my mom said.

  “If it was up to me, you never would have known,” my dad confided.

  “This is a lot to digest. I’m wondering, why now? Why after all these years are you telling me now? Why not then? Why should I believe you?” Dion blurted out question after question.

  My mom responded, “Like Trey said, if it was up to us, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now. Our daughter found out about you, and Trey thought it was best that you know now. This will give you the opportunity to build a relationship with your daughter . . . that is, if you want to.”

  “Look, this is a lot to digest. We need to do blood tests. I’ll need to speak with my attorney,” he said.

  “Other than Trey, you were the only man I had slept with during a two-year period, so Dion, without a doubt, you are my daughter’s biological father.”

  The tension in the air was thick. Dion’s voice sounded frustrated instead of relaxed like earlier. “You can’t just drop a bomb on me like this and think I’m going to take your word for it. You’ve been lying for fifteen years. Why should I believe you now?”

  My dad said, “Get the DNA test, but in the meantime, I need for you to figure out what you’re going to do about my daughter.”

  “According to Angie, you mean my daughter, right?” Dion said. His head seemed to be looking directly at my dad.

  “Dion, don’t get it twisted. Porsha Marie Swint will ALWAYS be my daughter. And it’s my love for her that prompted me to contact you.”

  “I’m just saying. If it’s proven she’s my daughter, we’re going to have to do a name change. A lot of things will change.”

  My mom responded, “Porsha’s a Swint in every sense of the word, so you can forget that.”

  Dion said, “Look, I don’t want to fight with you, Angie, but right now, I don’t think you have a leg to stand on. You kept my daughter away from me.”

  My dad interrupted him. “You will not disrespect my wife. She did—we did what we thought was best for all of us. You were married. We were getting married. We didn’t find out the child wasn’t mine until after she was born. By then, I, yes, I felt it best to leave things the way they were. I’ve loved Porsha since she was in her mom’s belly.”

  Tears streamed down my face as I listened to my dad express his unconditional love for me as if I was his biological daughter. I loved him too. I was confused about how I should feel about Dion. He kept asking for a blood test. I don’t know why he wouldn’t take my mom’s word for it. She had no reason to lie to him now.

  Dion responded, “Trey, I’m sure you love her. And, if she’s mine, in due time, I’m sure I’ll love her too.”

  What does he mean, “if she’s mine”? My mom just told you I’m your daughter. Dude, you’re in denial. I felt like screaming, but I wasn’t supposed to be downstairs overhearing their conversation. Eavesdropping wasn’t something I normally did, although, lately, you couldn’t tell.

/>   My mom said, “She’s yours. So make whatever arrangements you need to make. You’re not the only one with attorneys.”

  “This is a lot to dump on someone. How am I supposed to feel? You’ve kept secrets and now think I’m supposed to believe whatever y’all tell me. Come on now.”

  “I was going to have Porsha come back downstairs, so we could make the official introduction, but based on your reaction, I don’t think it’s a good idea,” my dad responded.

  I started to back up and accidentally hit the table near the wall. Busted.

  “Porsha, is that you?” my mom shouted out.

  “Yes, it’s me,” I responded. I walked and stood in the middle of the doorway.

  “I thought I told you to go upstairs,” my dad said.

  I stuttered, “Well, what had happened was—”

  My mom said, “Dear, go back upstairs. We’ll talk later.”

  I looked at Dion to see if he was going to say anything. To my disappointment, he didn’t. Feeling rejected, I hung my head low and this time did what my parents had originally advised me. I headed upstairs to my bedroom.

  10

  I paced back and forth in my room. I peeped out the window to see if Dion had left, but his car remained outside. The anticipation of what else was happening downstairs kept me on pins and needles. The knock on the door startled me.

  “Porsha, can I come in?” my mom asked.

  “Sure.” Regardless of my response she was going to enter anyway, so it really didn’t matter what I said.

  “How much did you overhear?” she asked, as she entered the room.

  I shrugged my shoulders. “So, is he gone?” I asked.

  “No, he wants to talk to you before he leaves.”

  “Really,” I responded. I was surprised. “I thought he wanted to wait until after the DNA test.”

  “So you did hear. I’ve told you about eavesdropping.”

  “It wasn’t like I was trying to eavesdrop. You guys weren’t whispering.”

  My mom placed her arm around my shoulders. “If you’re not ready, I will tell him, it’ll have to be another time. I don’t want you to do anything you’re not ready to do.”

  When I felt her arms around my shoulders, I wanted to lay my head on her shoulder and cry. I was confused. I didn’t know what I should do. A part of me wished things could go back to the day before I found out Trey was not my biological father. “I’ll talk to him. It’s not like I haven’t talked to him before.”

  “Are you sure? Because we can set up another meeting,” she said.

  I think Mom really wanted me to wait to meet him for her own selfish reasons. “Let’s get this over with.”

  I pushed back my insecurities and decided to venture down the stairs behind my mom. After all the drama, I was now face to face with the man who now knew I was his daughter.

  My parents both stood by the fireplace.

  Dion seemed to examine my face, probably trying to see if there was any resemblance. “You have my eyes,” he said. He patted the cushion next to him on the sofa. “Come. Sit.”

  I glanced over at my parents, who were still standing by the fireplace. My dad nodded his head up and down. I took that as encouragement and I hesitantly did as I was told.

  “You’re a beautiful young lady,” Dion said.

  “Thanks,” I responded.

  “I wanted you to know, if you’re my daughter, I want us to get to know each other better.”

  My mind held on to the word if. I blurted, “I am your daughter. My mom confirmed it.”

  “I know, dear. But I just want to make sure before—”

  I interrupted him. “Before what? Before you start dishing out money? I don’t need your money. My dad has money.”

  “Porsha, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  My dad walked over. “Dion, I think it’s best that you go now. When you’re ready to accept Porsha as your daughter, maybe we can try this again.”

  “That’s okay, Dad. I want to hear what Dion has to say.” I stretched the word Dion.

  “Porsha, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” Dion said.

  I folded my arms and leaned back on the sofa. “I’m not so sure I want to get to know you anyway. I have a dad.”

  “If you’re mine, I want us to have a relationship.”

  “There goes that word if again. I AM your daughter, but like I said, I already have a dad, so please don’t feel obligated.” I shifted my body, so my back was now turned toward him.

  My dad said, “Dion, man, please leave. Call us when you set up the DNA test, and Angie and Porsha will be there.”

  Dion remained seated for a minute. I could feel his eyes on me. “Porsha, I will see you later.”

  “Uh-huh,” I responded. I felt him get off the couch.

  “I’ll walk you out,” my dad said.

  My mom rushed to my side. “Are you all right?”

  “My moms kept secrets from me, and my real father doesn’t want to acknowledge I’m his. How do you think I feel?” I jumped off the couch and ran upstairs as the tears flowed down my face, staining my shirt.

  I threw myself on the bed and sobbed like a baby.

  My dad came into the room and took me in his arms as I cried in his arms. “Baby girl, it’s going to be all right,” he said, as he rocked me back and forth.

  “He doesn’t want me. I’m glad he didn’t know I was his.”

  My dad looked me in the eyes. “It’s not that, sweetheart. He just found out about you. He’s just being cautious and wants to make sure before getting emotionally attached.”

  “Well, I hate him, and I don’t want anything else to do with him. You’re all the dad I need.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “Yes, I do,” I responded.

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this, because Dion is still not one of my favorite people, but give him a chance. The DNA tests will be done soon, and he’ll come to terms that you’re his.”

  “I don’t want to be his. I want things the way they were.”

  “Awe, sweetheart, it’s going to be all right. Like I’ve told you before, you will always be my baby girl.” He continued to rock me back and forth.

  My mom stood in the doorway. For the first time since the day she discovered I knew the truth, I saw tears stream down her face. She wrapped her arms around herself.

  My dad brushed the hair out of my face and kissed me on the forehead. “We’re going to get through this. Love you. Get you some rest, and if you need to talk, you know where to find us.”

  They closed the door behind them, and I was left to my thoughts. I fell back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Each time I closed my eyes, I saw visions of my real father and replayed our short conversation over and over in my head.

  Once he confirmed I was his via the DNA test, what then? Where would we go from here? What would my little brothers think when they found out? How was my life going to change? Those questions and more swam around in my head before I drifted off to sleep.

  11

  Normally, my Sunday consisted of going to church and spending time with my family, but this Sunday my parents and I slept in. Well, they may have slept, but I tossed and turned and had a restless night of sleep and had the bags under my eyes to prove it.

  Frustrated, I gave up on going back to sleep. I dialed Danielle’s number. “I met Dion yesterday,” I said.

  “How did it go?” she asked.

  “Let me get Tara on the phone so I can tell you both at the same time.” I placed Danielle on hold and added Tara in on the call.

  I recounted what occurred. “So now we’re waiting on the DNA test.”

  “Wow! This is so exciting. Dion McNeil is your dad. That’s just way cool,” Danielle said.

  “I wish he wasn’t. I love my dad. I don’t need another one.”

  Tara said, “I wished mine would come around more.”

  We listened to Tara go on and on about how she felt about
not seeing her father. I welcomed the temporary distraction from my own problems. My phone clicked. I saw a number I didn’t recognize. “Hold on, y’all,” I said, right before clicking over.

  “I wanted to check on you,” a familiar voice said from the other end.

  “Kenneth?” I asked.

  “Yes, Porsha. You seemed out of it at school.”

  “Look, I don’t have time for drama. My life is complicated as it is,” I responded.

  “But I like you. I thought you liked me too.”

  “I did. But that was before I saw you liking all those other girls.”

  “They don’t mean anything to me. I want you to be my girl.”

  Kenneth sounded so sexy when he said it. I forgot about my two BFFs being on the other end of the phone. “Ken, I don’t know. You seem to have too much going on.”

  “Porsha, I’m not giving up on you that easily. I want you, and I know you want me too.”

  “Give it up, Ken. I don’t have time for the games. Got to go. I have someone on the other end of my phone.”

  I clicked over and told Danielle and Tara about the conversation with Kenneth.

  Tara said, “He’s something else. I wouldn’t give him time of day.”

  “I wish it was that easy. He’s such a cutie.”

  “Yes, he is,” Danielle agreed.

  “Looks aren’t everything,” Tara said.

  Danielle and I said in unison, “Yes, they are.”

  “Y’all are so shallow.”

  I continued the playful banter with my two BFFs. Talking to them made me feel better. I felt energized and could face whatever happened next.

  My appetite returned, so after showering and getting dressed, I went downstairs to fix myself something to eat.

  I heard my parents arguing. The sound was coming from the kitchen. Once again, I found myself eavesdropping.

  “This is all your fault,” I heard my mom say.

  “Look . . . she deserves to know her biological father. Do you think this is easy on me? No, it isn’t,” my dad said, as I saw him approach my mom and wrap his arm around her waist.