Jake whispered as he looked down at his plate. “Mom where did you come from?”
The silence was complete, everything came to a sudden halt as the little family stared at Jake. His brother paused in mid chew, the muscles of his cheek bulging with mashed potatoes, and his other brother just simply stared, too startled to say anything.
His mother looked at him, though he didn’t see her looking as he was staring at the little pile of green beans that finally gave him the courage to ask the question. But he could feel the stare, it was almost grinding into his head, and maybe he should let it in so that she could see what he was thinking, the fear that he would never find a place in this world, who was his father, after all it wasn’t the man that shared a room with his mother.
His two brothers, Both of them had been toddlers when his “father” took in a woman who stumbled half dead into the milk house with him large inside. They had their father’s dark brown hair with differences. Peter the older one had curls that were tamed only by the base ball hat he wore all the time. And John’s hair was straight like his father.