We drove for a while in silence. The pine trees went by. The sun came out from behind the clouds and lit up everything gold.
“Who else knows?” I asked.
“Pastor Jim. My doctor. The jeweler. The lady at the Lakeview.” He paused. “That’s it.”
“Not Sophie.”
“Not Sophie.” His voice broke. “I didn’t know how. I kept practicing. In the truck. In the shower. How do you tell your little girl that you’re…” He couldn’t finish.
“We’ll tell her together,” I said.
He looked at me.
“You’re not mad?”
“I’m furious,” I said. “I’m so mad at you I could scream. You lied to me for five months. You let me make fun of you for forgetting things. You let me call you an old man. You went to the dentist three times, Mark. Three times. You have perfect teeth.”
“I know.”
