Page 94 of Truth or More Truth
thirty-eight
. . .
Ineed to play another game of “Truth or More Truth” with Melissa—with me being the truth teller. I haven’t lied to her, but there are things she needs to know about my childhood. I doubt what I need to tell her will scare her off if nothing else has up to this point, but I don’t feel like she can fully know me until she knows everything. And the longer I put off telling her, the more upset she’ll be that I didn’t tell her earlier. I should’ve told her a few weeks ago in Miami, but I didn’t want anything to ruin our time together. And now I keep putting it off.
I also need to tell her my plans for my career and how it’ll be changing over the coming months.
“Dad, can I talk to you?”
The sight of my daughter standing in the doorway to my office makes me smile. She’s in her pajamas—light pink with bunnies tonight—and looks more like a little girl than she usually does. She also should’ve been asleep an hour ago, but here she is.
“You can always talk to me, baby.”
Kelli glares at me and crosses her arms over her chest as she enters the room and curls up in her green chair. “How many times do I have to tell you not to call me baby?”
I hold my hands up in surrender. “Sorry. Old habits die hard.”
“Well, you need to assassinate and bury that one.”
“Got it. What do you want to talk to me about?”
“Remember when I said you should kinda retire?”
“I do.” I haven’t been able to think about much else than that prospect and Melissa for weeks. I’m about to tell Kelli some of what I’m thinking when she continues speaking.
“I’ve changed my mind.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “You have?”
“Well, a little bit.” She holds her thumb and pointer finger a half-inch apart.
“What’s the little bit?”
“I still think you need to not work as much and to send some of your clients packing. But I think you should keep all the ones in Chicago.”
I give her an assessing look. “Even Jimmie Zane?” If this is because she has a crush on him, I’m dropping him tomorrow.
She takes a deep breath. “Especially Jimmie Zane. He needs you, Dad. I read this article about him inHockey Digest?—”
I hold up my hand to stop her. “Hang on. You readHockey Digest?”Sure, I subscribe, but I didn’t think my daughter read the host of sports magazines I typically leave scattered about the house.“Since when?”
“Since I decided to investigate Jimmie Zane.”
“And why are you investigating Jimmie Zane?” I grit my teeth, hoping she’s not about to tell me it’s because she thinks he’s cute or some other such nonsense.
“To try to figure out why he’s always making dumb decisions. I thought it might have something to do with his family, and I think I’m right.”
My jaw relaxes at her comment. “What’s your assessment, then?” This should be interesting.
“Did you know he had a sister who died when she was twelve and he was sixteen?”
“Yes, I know that.” I knew it even before the article she’s referring to. “You think that has something to do with why he is the way he is?”
“I do. Mom thinks so, too.”
I tilt my head to the side as I assess her. “You talked to your mom about Jimmie?”
“I did. She’s really smart, you know.”
