Thats not a lie, Tina.

Its also none of his goddamn business.  But what really torques me Henry, is that you told him it was because my ex-boyfriend is blocking the adoption.  My black ex-boyfriend who is some sort of club promoter but may have connections to something what did she say?  Oh yeah - shady.

Oh come on.  I didnt say shady.  And I didnt say he had connections.  Carl jumped to conclusions.  Or she did.

But you did say all the rest??  That I have a black ex-boyfriend? 

Um.  Yeah, I guess I did.

He unbuttons his shirt, pulls it off.  He opens a drawer, pulls out a t-shirt, pulls it over his head.  I am dumbstruck.  Angelica begins to squirm.  I hold her to me a little more tightly.

Why in the fuck would you say that, Henry?

He walks to the closet.  He unfastens his belt, he drops his pants.  He does not look at me.

One of these days youre going to want to watch your language in front of her, Tina.

Fuck you, Henry.

He pulls on a pair of jeans.   He pulls off his socks.  He stretches, both arms out in front of him.  He does not turn around.

Or maybe not.

You lied about me.  You lied about Be -

He turns around.  His face is impassive but I see a hint, just a hint, of anger, in tiny lines that twitch at the corners of his mouth.

I lied about Bette?  Why would anyone - Carl Lancaster or any other guy I know - give a shit if I lied about Bette? Like its gonna hurt her feelings? They dont know her.

Thats not the point.

Then what is the point, Tina?

That you - I dont know.  Its like that part of me never existed, like you made up some goddamn story about me because - because you were ashamed.  Because you are ashamed.

Im not ashamed of you, Tina.  Or who you were or what you did.  Its your past, everybodys got one.

You say that like its something bad.  I have a past.  Like I used to be a prostitute or something.

He smiles, it approaches a smirk, even though I think he doesnt mean it to.

And you know, if you had been a prostitute, I probably wouldnt have told him that either.

Fuck you.

You know Tina, thats not nice.  And its getting kind of repetitive.

Why dont you just tell people the truth?

What do you tell them?

What?

When people ask, or when the subject comes up.  What do you say?

I - um.  The subject - I dont know, Henry.  It doesnt come up all that often.

I dont buy it, Tina.

What?

I said I dont buy it.  Angelica looks --- Tina, a lot of people have to wonder.  They know shes not mine, so she has to be some other guys, right?  So when they wonder, what do you say?

I stand, for a moment, flustered, feeling foolish, feeling furious.  Impotent, unsure, ill-prepared to answer.

Im going out.

His turn to look dumbstruck.

Huh?  Thats what you say? What?

I said Im going out.

I walk out of the room, toward Angelicas.  He follows me.  He stands in the doorway, his hand resting on the frame.

Youre going out?  What the hell?

I need a night out, Henry.  I need to get out, its been a rough week at work. 

Did you get a sitter?

I lay Angelica on the changing table.  Shes so big now that she barely fits, her leg hanging over the side, she kicks her other leg up and down.  She giggles.  I pull out pajamas and a diaper.

No.  I figured since you were working late, you wouldnt mind.

I thought we could just, you know.  Stay in.  Watch a movie.  Hang out.

He sounds hopeful, in a sad, resigned sort of way.

If you mind watching her, Ill call someone.

Look, Tina.  I didnt mean anything by it.  I didnt - I guess I didnt know what to say.  Its getting weird -

If its so fucking weird, Henry, you shouldnt have asked me to marry you.

I meant its getting weird, people wanting to know why Im - Im not her dad.