"Closed door. Got it," he says, nodding slowly. His expression doesn't change. "You're right to say that to me. You're cleverer, you know, than your siblings."
I narrow my eyes. This isn't the path I wanted this conversation to take. Hell, I never wanted this conversation at all.
"They visited me in prison, did you know that? All three of them. They were angry too, of course, but they let me explain. You never did." Dad sounds almost proud of that fact, giving me a crooked grin. "We're the same, you and I, Carter."
"No. We are nothing alike."
He chuckles. "Think your drive is a coincidence? You have my ambition, kid, but the smarts to do it the legal way. You got those from your mother."
I shake my head. "I don't want to hear this."
He looks out at the line of smartly-clad people waiting for the cashier. All ready to go to work. "Jenny just got married. Did you know that? She waited until I was out, so I could walk her down the aisle."
Not what I want to hear. Not at all. Fury, mixed with sympathy, for that other family. How could they forgive him?
"Do they know about me? And Mom?"
Dad nods. "I told them everything a few years back. No more lies, Carter. Not to them and not to you. Never again."
"You're the best liar I've ever met."
"I am," he says. There's no shame or regret on his face. "But it's not worth it. It ruined my life, and hurt too many people I love."
Love. The thing he's never been capable of, I think, but I don't say it.
"William is a doctor now. He's two years older than you."
I put my cup down hard enough to rattle the table. "I don't want to know."
"All right, noted. In your own time," he says. "They're curious about you, though."
"You texted Mom," I say, my voice granite. Enough of this. "I never want you to contact her again."
Dad gives a slow nod. "I understand that. But we had a relationship aside from you, you know. She might want to-"
"Then you wait for her to reach out. She has your number. But you will never fucking wait outside her apartment like you did with me today. Do you get that? You do that, and I will never speak to you again until the day I die. And I fucking mean that. You don't mess with Mom again."
He leans back, eyes widening slightly. But he nods. "Understood," he says. "You're good to her."
"Not something I learned from you." I drain the rest of my coffee. This has already gone on for too long. "Look, I get that you're out of prison and ready to pick up the pieces of your old life. But we haven't been sitting around waiting for that. I have a life. Mom has a life. And we're both better without you in them."
Dad is still, eyes unreadable. "Okay. I understand."
"You lied to us every single day you were with us in New York. If not by your words, then by your actions," I say. "I thought my father was a brilliant travelling businessman. Turns out he was a cheat, and a liar, and a con artist."
"I was all of those things," he says. "And a father. I always treasured that role the most."
"I don't believe you." The word I don't add is yet. Maybe I will, one day. But opening myself up to this man again is so far in the future I'd need binoculars to see it.
"Thanks for speaking to me," Dad says. "Do you want me to-"
"Wait for me to contact you."
"Okay. I can do that."
I stand, ready to leave, when something strikes me. William and Jenny. He'd said the names of my half-siblings, the names I'd only seen once in a PI's file and been unable to forget. William, Jenny, and Sarah.
And me, Carter.
A terrible suspicion threads its way through me. I know so little of what he did when he was away… but none of it was good.
"Were you ever in Alrich? Around ten years ago? Must have been right before you went to prison."
His eyebrows rise, but he nods. "Yes."
"A dentist," I say softly. The world feels shaky beneath my feet. "Two teenage kids. He trusted you with his pension and his kid's college funds."
Dad looks out the window for a moment. "Now that you mention it… yes. I met them. He's one of the many I need to make penance for. I had a scheme at the time, for dentists. Met a number of them upstate."
"You could give them their money back."
"I wish I could," he says. "But I have nothing left."
That, at least, I believe. His money management skills were always terrible.
I feel sick, putting the connections in place. "Will C. Jenner."
"Was that the alias I used in Alrich?"
He doesn't even remember. I nod, my breath coming fast. I want to punch him. I want to weep. Dad was the man who ruined Audrey's family, who forced her into student debt, who rolled like a wrecking ball through her safe and loving home life with lies and deceit.
Dad chuckles a little. "That was a foolish, arrogant habit. I used to name myself after you kids. Different combinations, you know. That name had Will, for William, of course. C for Carter. Jenner for Jenny."
"You," I tell him, "are the worst man I've ever known."
He looks at me with eyes that are bottomless. They're as wise and ancient as they'd been when I was a kid, when I'd thought he knew everything. I wonder when he learned that trick. "I've been in prison, Carter," he says, "and I know there are men far worse than me."
"I'm sure," I say, "but none are my father. Don't contact me again."
"Carter…" he says, but I'm already reaching for the door. The New York air is cold and fresh, and I take deep breaths as I walk.
Audrey had always wanted to find the man who swindled her father. It makes me laugh, humorless and mad, to think I've found him for her. But if I tell her the truth, it might make me lose her altogether.
"Look at it," Carter says, spreading out the newspaper on the kitchen table. "You're right there on the front page."
I push the pitcher of orange juice far out of reach. Nothing is allowed to spill on this Sunday edition. "Wow. Just… oh my God. I'll remember this moment forever."
Carter rests his head atop mine and we both stare down at the front page. "Your first lead article in the Globe ."