Page 34 of Quintessentially

“I don’t know.”

Her voice is more alert. “What is it?”

I hesitate. “Mom, did Grandma ever mention a girl named Molly?”

“A girl? Not that I recall.”

“You’re sure that you don’t know about her?”

“I’m sorry, Dax, I don’t. Who is she?”

I blurt out the answer. “She’s five. I think she’s my daughter.”

Mom’s voice is fully awake. “What did you just say?”

“Grandma has boxes of pictures and well, Kandace…remember her? And a baby. I fucked up.”

“You didn’t know. If she’s really yours—you can get a blood test to find out. If she is, well, Dax, you should pay support.”

“I don’t want to just pay support.”

“It’s the right—”

“I want to know my daughter,” I say, interrupting. “How did I not know? Why wouldn’t Grandma tell me or tell you or Dad?”

“Honey,” she says placatingly, “I don’t know. Are you sure? Did Kandace tell you?”

“No, she didn’t, but…” My jaw aches from clenching.

“I agree it’s odd that Ruth would have pictures. Maybe there’s another explanation.”

“This is why Grandma wants Kandace to have the store. I’ve been a dick, talking about the worth of the building and inventory.” It hits me that the inventory Kandace has been working on is because of my request.

Mom’s voice lowers. “Dax, you do what’s right.”

“Dad agrees the sale price is too low,” I say.

“Sometimes, there’s more to something than we realize. I trust you to do what’s right. Heaven knows that Ruth’s estate is fine. We’re all doing well. You make the decision.”

A new thought comes to me. “You’re not upset?”

“Honestly, I don’t know what I am. I’m blindsided. I’m also the mother of one son. If this Molly is my granddaughter, it’s a little late to be upset. I mean, I thought we had the wholeuse protectiontalk.”

“We did.” I think back to the funeral. “She said she was on the pill.”

“Then either it didn’t work, or she lied.”

“Why would Kandace lie?” I question obstinately. “She wouldn’t,” I add, suddenly feeling the need to defend her. “I mean, if her goal was to trap me, wouldn’t she have told me?”

“You and she will work this out, and if you have a daughter, we’d love to meet her.”

“Daughter? What the hell?” My father’s voice came from a distance.

“Good night, Mom. Thanks.”

“What is he…?”

Mom speaks over Dad, “Good night.”

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