Chapter 2

The car ride to New York was so quiet. Joanne did not know what to expect of her father. Could he also be an addict? Most of all, she kept on questioning ‘Why now?’. In spite of her mind interrogation, she was not excited at the very least. She assumed the worst of her father, that he lived below poverty too, which is why he was too ashamed to show up all these years.

They drove to the Upper East Side, not at all what Joanne envisioned. He could still live in a basement apartment, like what she recently saw in the movie from her English Lit. class. Fascinated by the busy streets and the skyscrapers, she glued her eyes to whatever she found outside the car window. Everyone looked so beautiful and... in a hurry. It was like a dream, but better. When the vehicle finally came to a stop, Joanne gasped, looking at the huge townhouse before her eyes.

On the front door, stood a lanky man with an umbrella, waiting for her arrival. He was wearing a nude brown trench coat, which looked more expensive than everything she ever owned combined. He was holding a folded umbrella. The roads were indeed wet, he probably thought it was going to rain again. Joanne looked at him and found the resemblance they share. They both have brown eyes, but so does her mother. They both are brunettes, and so is her mother. She climbed the stairs quickly as if she wasn’t patient enough to find out who the man really is. When they stood face to face, only inches apart, he took her hands, tears rolled down his eyes. Then he pulled her into a long, warm hug. An affection Joanne hadn’t experienced in so long. With this, she didn’t have any more doubt.

When she toured the house, Joanne noticed several baby pictures being put on display. She hoped to question about them one day, but that was not the right time. She didn’t have any baby pictures of herself as her mother was always too poor to purchase a camera, but she wondered if she was actually one of the pictured babies in the living room.

To her luck, the guest room was being renovated. This meant she had to stay with a ‘sibling’, his eyebrows furrowed, hoping that she would not be disappointed. Little did he know, she had been living in slum for as long as she could remember. Of course, a shared bed would not be an issue.

She entered her supposed room. There is a considerable amount of tiaras and sashes being hung on the soft pink wall. The bedroom theme is Victorian, perfect fit for a princess. As written on the sashes, it is no secret that this room belongs to a beauty queen. Joanne was still dazed by this whole living arrangement. Does her father have another child with her mother? Does he raise another’s child? She grew more and more intrigued each minute. She rested her aching body on the bed. She hadn’t gotten used to long rides yet.

Before she got too comfortable, she rose from the queen sized bed, then she crouched down the cold marble floor. She reached to her carry-on, everything she possessed were fit inside that one small duffle bag.

Not long after, Joanne could hear car engines approaching their driveway. Their, it still sounded funny in her head. She sat on the floor, scared that the owner of the house would be offended if she just laid there pointlessly. She could hear the clacking of one’s heels getting closer to the room she was in. This must be her biological father’s new lady. Someone she assumed this town house belonged to. She jumped a little when she heard the door cracked open.

“Oh my, no child of mine is sitting on the floor at this weather.”. The woman was dressed in all designer.

Though Joanne had zero knowledge about haute couture, she sure knew how to distinguish a rich person from the very wealthy one. “I’m Victoria, John’s wife. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”, she said, offering her hand to help Joanne stand from her sitting position.

‘Finally? How long had they known about my existence?’, just another question to keep her up that night. It was all a mystery to our poor Joanne. “Does my father talk about me a lot?”, she finally gathered the courage to ask the woman before her.

“A lot? He talks about you all the time!”, certainly not the answer Joanne was anticipating.

Her sadness abruptly turned into anger. He had always been aware of her existence, yet he never bothered to visit or even call. He just chose to ignore her and her mother’s presence. Her mother was not better either, she lied to her throughout all her life. Why her mother faked her birthday was still a mystery, and now she had to face even bigger mysteries. Joanne was terrified of what could lie ahead. he did her best to prepare for the worst.