Your parents weren't happy in Oklahoma.

  The house John had offered was, in truth, a small room, in a small office, in a little podunk town, miles from nowhere. They had few modern comforts, and yet again, Jude refused to work. So did Tandy, for that matter.

  That was a source of tension because John could scarcely provide for himself, let alone anyone else. John worked as a massage therapist and beautician in the same office he let Jude and Tandy live in.

  Before long, Jude and Tandy left for Missouri to live with Tandy's mother, but her mother was an addict, and Tandy was trying to stay clean, so then they traveled to Washington to live with Patsy in Gramma Nora's house. That lasted a couple months before they both said, "screw this," and came back to San Francisco.

  By that time, I was bartending on weekends, taking classes at CCSF on weekdays, living life, and having mind-blowing sex. I had even started hosting murder mystery parties at the house.

  The three of us were the hottest power couple of the moment.

  The boys and I usually went out to drag bars on weekends. We went to game nights at Totally Awesome! and found a groove that worked for all three of us.

  Then Jude and his family came back into my life.

  I told him you could all stay in the living room for a month, but not more. Oliver was wonderful and patient about it. It was fun having a baby in the house. I babysat while your parents ran errands.

  Eventually, your parents found housing, but it didn't last.

  Jude continued to spiral. One night he came over. We were hanging out, talking about whatever, and somehow Mom came up in conversation. Jude exploded. He screamed Patsy was an evil bitch who deserved to die. Then he punched doors and banged his head against walls until he ran out of the house and into the night. I thought he was using again.

  Now I know it was something else. Something I should have known years before, but Jude never told me, and I never imagined it.

  One day, Tandy showed up at my house. You were in a stroller. We sat in the living room, where you took your first steps between the furniture.

  "Where's Jude?" I asked finally. "What brings you over?"

  Tandy hesitated. It wasn't like her to be anxious, but I could see she was agitated.

  "Jude's in jail. We lost our housing because they caught us drinking. Then Jude set their mailbox on fire. The cops came and arrested him. I ran away just before they could… They're gonna take my son from me." Tears filled her eyes.

  I didn't respond at first. There was more that she wasn't telling me, but I couldn't force it out of her. "No, they're not," I told her. "Because we won't let them. You're not responsible for Jude's actions, and you can stay here for now. I'll talk to the roommates and figure something out."

  She let out a full-body sigh of relief.

  "What the hell is going on with Jude? Why is he acting like this?" I demanded.

  Tandy looked away for a moment and then directly at me to say, "She fucked him."

  I was lost. "Huh?"

  "Your mom."

  "Fucked who?"

  "Jude. Your mom and Jude had sex."

  I stared at her for several seconds with a ringing in my ears. That's absurd, I thought. No, they didn't. Tandy must be making it up. But who would lie about something like that? And why? Why would Tandy lie? It didn't make sense.

  "How do you know this?"

  "Jude told me."

  Again, I stared at her suspiciously, mouth agape.

  "I need to call my mom." I got up and left the room.

  At the time, Patsy and I were on speaking terms. I had forgiven her for her failings, her selfishness, her stupidity. I had forgiven her for failing me, Jude, and Morgan. She was a lazy, greedy narcissist, but I didn't hold that against her anymore.

  So she answered when I called.

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  "Hi, Sebastian! This is a nice surprise. What's goin' on?"

  "Hey, Mom. I have a question, and I just need an honest answer, okay?"

  "Okay…"

  "Did you and Jude have sex?"

  Dead silence for several seconds. Jesus Christ.

  "Where did you hear that?"

  "That's not important. Did it happen?"

  Again, silence.

  "Sorta, kinda."

  "What does that mean, 'sorta, kinda?' I need specifics."

  Irritated sigh. "How do you see this conversation ending, Sebastian?"

  "I dunno. Probably with us not speaking for a long time."

  She scoffed and hung up.

  I couldn't move, sitting on my bed with the phone at my ear and a thousand-yard stare for I don't know how long.

  When I finally walked out of my bedroom, it was like moving through a drunken daze or dense fog. Mundane things became important. Important things became mundane.

  Tandy was grateful to not carry the secret's burden alone anymore. Meanwhile, I was wrecked emotionally, mentally, and even physically (I would break out in hives, acne, and allergies), but not for the first time, so I kept it together.

  Tandy and I talked for several hours. Then she asked me to watch you for a few weeks. She reasoned it would be easier to find a job and a place to live without a baby in tow. I said sure, and then she left you with me. Cops came and took you into Child Protective Services later that week. Tandy was arrested, and since you had no legal guardian, you fell into the foster system.

  I finally took stock of my life and realized I had made a mess of it.

  I was so preoccupied with boyfriends and trying to be popular that I had done nothing as my brother spiraled. Getting drunk every weekend. Picking up random hotties for orgies again and again and again. What was the point? Where did it bring me?

  Jude had been drowning, all while I was fucking the lifeguard.

  The people I had been chasing, their love and approval, it all left me empty.

  I got what I wanted. It cost me the only family I had left.

  I decided to adopt you.

  A public attorney was appointed to your case, a kind man named Matthew, and he helped me get visitation privileges. It took weeks. Government bureaucracy is always slow, and child settlement cases are particularly so, but I finally got to see you. Your foster mom was a wonderful Black woman who gave you big booby hugs. Our visits were supervised, but I saw you every week. You seemed happy.

  I'm sorry to say neither of your parents visited. I think they lost faith in themselves when they lost you. But Tandy had one last card to play. She called her father and asked for his help in getting you back. It didn't work out the way she had hoped. Her father got custody of you.

  Sorry for spoiling, but you know how this story ends. Tandy's father fought me for custody for over a year. We went to court so many times I lost count.

  Your CPS caseworker didn't like me. CPS, in general thought, I was too young and too unconventional. Jude's continuing erratic behavior didn't help my image, either. They suspected I was secretly (or not so secretly, depending on your perspective) a fuck-up.

  I was naive to ever think I stood a chance. Tandy's parents had been working the same job and living in the same house for as long as I'd been alive. I was a 22-year-old fag without a college degree, renting in one of the most expensive cities in the world. Of course, the judge made the conservative choice.

  But I wouldn't know that for almost a year. So I changed myself and my life to better accommodate CPS and the courts. I stopped working at the Golden Cow and got a job working for Dante at Totally Awesome!

  Dante and I had reconnected over many, many games of Magic, so when he needed a new cashier, I stepped in. Turns out I love board games, and I'm pretty darn good at Magic: the Gathering. I spent more and more time at the store. Eventually, Dante and I began an affair.

  Oliver and August weren't on board with fatherhood, and they both wanted to drop acid at Burning Man, so I broke up with them and moved in with Dante, figuring a traditional dyad with a business owner might present a more compelling family picture.

  It took months to get Dante over to my way of thinking, but eventually, we earned unsupervised weekend stayovers, converting Dante's guest room into a nursery. A CPS worker came and inspected the apartment and gave us the go-ahead, and for the last couple months, you lived with us in our home. I'd never been happier. I really believed it was possible that I could salvage a family from all the pain and loss, but I failed. I failed you. I failed Jude. It eats at me constantly, like grief. I am so sorry.

  At the final placement hearing, Jude showed up late. He was disruptive, and his testimony was incomprehensible. It didn't help my case that I was sitting behind him.

  The judge ruled you would be sent to Missouri to live with Tandy's parents.

  Jude couldn't understand the ruling. He had decided he would get custody of you. His testimony was quite certain on that point. So it came as rather a shock to him when things didn't work out that way.

  I bought him a burrito after court.

  I told him I love him.

  I told him it wasn't his fault.

  I didn't ask questions because I already knew everything I needed to know.

  He was a minor.

  She was giving him mind-altering substances.

  I told him it wasn't his fault.

  I told him I love him.

  I told him I will always have his back, no matter what he does.

  But I'm angry.

  I'm angry he lied to me. I'm angry he didn't trust me with this secret.

  I'm angry he abandoned you to the foster system.

  I'm angry he abandoned me by destroying himself.

  I told him I love him.

  I will always love him, no matter what.

  But I can't save him. I can't follow where he's gone.

  I won't devote my life trying to save someone from themself.

  He has to save himself.

  I told him I love him.

  And then I told him goodbye.

  I'm glossing over so much. Sorry, but I don't want to linger here.

  CPS came. I strapped you into their car seat and said goodbye. Just like I did for Connor and Carrie in Montana. And that was the last time I saw you.

  I stayed in bed for days after that. Dante and I fought. I don't remember why or over what. But I left him, too. Just like I left countless people before him.

  And then I left San Francisco.

  I had changed everything about myself to try to be a father, and when I couldn't be that anymore, I didn't know who I was. I couldn't go back to the man I'd been. That man was selfish. He was a failure. He let everyone down. I had to be someone new, somewhere else, and there was only one place I could think to go.

  With my suitcase in one hand and my spiral ring notebook in the other, I went to the San Francisco Greyhound Station and told the attendant, "I'm here to pick up a ticket to Oklahoma City."