The Monsters of Templeton by Lauren Groff

I said. "What is it? Just say it."
    "Give me a minute, Willie. This is very difficult."
    "Oh, God," I said. "Gosh. This is going to be bad, isn't it."
    "Well," she said. "Depends on how you look at it. First I must say that I am sorry, Willie, for having lied to you for such a long time. Are you ready?"
    "No," I said.
    "All right," she said. "Here goes. Willie, I lied to you about having three fathers. You only have one, and he lives in Templeton, and he is a prominent citizen, and he has a family of his own. And I don't know if he knows you're alive. Well, I'm pretty sure he knows you're alive, but maybe not his part in...well, the making of you. His role in making you, I mean. I'm pretty sure he has no idea that you're his child. Just as you have no idea he's your father. Sperm donor. Whatever."
    I blinked at her.
    The anxiety drained out of her face, and a slow look of wonder grew across it. "It feels so good," she said, smiling beatifically, "to tell the Truth at long last."
    "Oh. My. God," I said.
    "I warned you," she said. "His name never in vain. Rule Number One."
    "Fuck," I said.
    "Better," she said.
    "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck," I said.
    "I understand," she said.
    I turned in my chair to face the glass window and look out onto the lake, the hills. Outside, bats swirled and dipped over the pool-pond and a mallard slid into the water from his butt, like an old lady in a green bathing cap out for a crepuscular dip. "Do I know," I said at last, "do I know this man who is supposed to be my father?"
    My mother considered, then said, "Maybe." I could hear the suppressed smile in her voice. She was thinking, perhaps, that this was going better than she thought it would.
    I said, "Who is he?"
    "Ah, that," she said. "That I can't tell you."
    I turned back around and glared at her. "Can't?" I said. "Don't want to, you mean."
    "Yes," she said. "That's right. It wouldn't be fair to him."
    "Fair?" I said. "Fair?"
    The vase of tiger lilies, when it hit the wall, didn't shatter as I had expected it to, but rather hit with a thump, and then thumped again on the floor. A little water fell out, but the lilies stayed in the vase. It was not at all the act of destruction I needed. "Wouldn't be fair?" I thundered at my mother, my knuckles on the table. "Fair?"
    My mother closed her eyes and held the crucifix with two hands. When she opened them again, she was smiling. She said, "There you are, Willie. I knew you were in there somewhere." She gazed upon me with tenderlovingkindness. There was the stink of burning martyr in the air.
    "Don't you dare go all saintly on me," I said. "Don't you even dare, Vi. You are a terrible, terrible hypocrite. I have a father in Templeton whom I may actually know, and you kept this from me for twenty-eight years. Twenty-eight years, you let me believe I was the product of mad fornication in some orgiastic hippie love-fest? And you're not telling me now who he is? You have got to be fucking kidding me. And to tell me now of all times. Now, of all times?"
    "I told you I was sorry about that," she said. Her hands made darting, mothlike motions around the wet loaf of her braid.
    "Vi," I said. "Didn't you think? What if I dated his son? You never knew half of the people I dated in high school. Oh my God. What if I dated him?"
    And my goddamn mother actually had the nerve to laugh. "You never," she said, "were in the habit of dating old men until you went to college."
    "You horrible woman," I said.
    "I'm sorry," she said. "I couldn't resist. It's not funny. I know. Willie, it's not that big a deal. I promise."
    "Who is he?" I said.
    "You know I can't tell you that."
    "Who is he?"
    "Sorry, nope."
    "What if I guess?"
    "You won't."
    "I will."
    "No," she said. "And even if you do, I can't confirm it."
    "So I do know him," I said.
    "Maybe."
    "Give me a clue."
    "No."
    "What about the no-lying policy? What about no secrets?"
    "For my own lies. For my own secrets."
    "Vivienne Goddamn Upton, give me a clue now. Call