Geoffrey’s eyes popped open. He sat up. He looked at the clock. He registered that it was 2:30am. Normally he would allow himself to relax, calm down and go back to sleep, but tonight, or rather this morning, he could not. He had tried to put off meeting Joseph Conners for as long as he could, but he had to give Francis’s father credit, he was persistent. They had finally agreed upon meeting this morning at 3:00am, and somewhere in the front corner of his mind Geoffrey hoped that Joseph would not make it. If the man had not arrived by then, Geoffrey promised himself he would go back to bed. He looked down and ran a finger across the lettering on his chest, watching himself as he traced out the word ‘Evelyn’. The tattoo had been the only uncontrolled impulse of his life.

He stood, walked over to his computer chair and picked up the white dress shirt draped across the back. He slipped into it like water and one by one buttoned it over his chest. The tattoo, his one whim of the far past, hidden in seconds. He grabbed his pants that had been lying underneath his shirt and put them on as well. He began to look around his pristine room. A place for everything and everything in its place, that’s the saying he remembered. Indeed, the only thing that was out of place was the small fake plastic rose stuck in corner of the ceiling that transmitted noise to the other side of the house. That was Francis’s doing. It was the audio security system that she had put around the entire house. She had become paranoid one day and had insisted upon it. Geoffrey had no way of ensuring if it worked or not, and he wasn’t even sure if he wanted it to work for the conversation that was about to come. All he could do was hope that Francis was asleep. He heard a rapping at the front door and went wearily to greet his visitor.

Physically, Joseph Conners was the opposite of everything that was Geoffrey Fairchild. Geoffrey was 6’2", black hair and blue-green eyes. Joseph was 5’6", dark brown hair and dark, beady eyes. Geoffrey was slender, physically fit with sinewy muscles. Joseph was stocky, and seemed built up from the earth while Geoffrey was ephemeral and seemed to be just part of the air. Geoffrey led the other man through the house to Geoffrey’s room where they could talk with some semblance of privacy.

Geoffrey closed the door to his room as Joseph sat in the computer chair. The private sanctum of bedroom had assumed the air of a business office. Geoffrey sat on the bed and waited, his eyes staring into Joseph’s.

"If you don’t tell Frankie the truth, about her past, about your past, then I will." Joseph got straight to the point. Geoffrey’s face showed no emotion although his mind hesitated in its thought processes.

"I have never felt it important for Francis to know about the past and she has never seemed inquisitive about it. Why bother telling her something she does not seem to want to know?" Geoffrey’s voice was cool, passive. Joseph had been manipulated once before, he reminded himself. He could be persuaded again.

"You’ve ruined my life. You’ve abandoned her, me, any remembrance of yourself. You don’t care about a damn thing." Joseph’s fists began to ball up in his lap as he tried to control the temper in his voice, to keep from shouting.

"I cannot be blamed for the responsibilities that you were willing to take over. Putting my life on hold for twenty years just to raise a child, who might or might not have potential, would be a far greater crime. You understand that my work concerns things far more important than human concerns like parenting." Geoffrey could already see where this conversation was going. Joseph had somehow found out, had understood that legally, he had never been Francis’s father. Now, that Francis was older, Geoffrey wanted her back, although for a man who knew everything, he couldn’t understand why.

"Of course, I’ve forgotten. Quantum physics and advanced probabilities rank over the importance of a growing and maturing young girl. That there would be no way for Frankie to ever be truly important or loved by you." Joseph lashed out verbally. The comment infuriated Geoffrey, but his face continued to register without emotion. He would not lower himself to personal attacks against a man’s character.

"No, I do not believe that my work is more important than Francis, and I do not believe that Francis is more important than my work. They are separate parts of my life. I have tried to convey the importance of all this to her, but she lacks vision." Geoffrey tried to keep from sighing; he grew tired of defending himself, his ideas. Joseph on the other hand stood and began to pace the room.

"You shouldn’t say such harsh things about my daughter, how she lacks vision. Frankie is an extremely intelligent girl. She’s practically a child prodigy!"

"And why can’t I say harsh things about your daughter? I was never her father, and the transmission of genetic code does not link us any more than the transmission of code between servers. You have been a better father to her than I ever could have been." Geoffrey stood; he was ready to begin imparting the final blows that would end this conversation. "Do you remember Joseph? You always lamented the fact that you never had a wife, or a child. You were acceptable to the…suggestion when I allowed you to have my wife who you knew nothing about. I allowed you to have my daughter while I watched and guided her from afar. It was better this way."

"But she lives with you, now." Joseph retorted catching Geoffrey, staring him in the eyes.

"Yes, she does live with me, I felt it was right. I have been a guiding mentor to her, and now that she is independent enough not to need her diaper changed hourly, I’ve been…" Geoffrey hesitated. He paused. And compartments of his mind froze while others sped up to try and figure how to quickly fix this. What was the word he needed? "Happy, to make her a part of my life again."

Part of his life, again.

"So, you feel like you can be a father now, but you couldn’t before? That in the two years she’s been living with you, you’ve suddenly been able to change your life to fit her?" Joseph sat back down into the computer chair. Geoffrey wanted to take a beaker of acid to the smirk that rested on the other man’s face.

"What would you have me do? Take her to daycare day by day? To enforce her curfew? To make sure she eats her vegetables? I am not a man who is a father!" Geoffrey’s voice bordered on yelling, screaming out to the world that he was right, that all the actions of his life were perfectly valid, and who was this pitiable mortal to tell him otherwise?

"Then why did you let yourself have a child to begin with?"

"Don’t blame me for that. You knew…excuse me." Geoffrey remembered the rose and walked over to it. He was just tall enough to reach up and rip it from its place. He severed stem from wires in that pull and let the flower fall to the ground. Instead of turning around Geoffrey continued to face the wall. "You knew she was Evelyn’s daughter. That she wanted a child more than I ever did. She was supposed to take care of Francis, not I."

"She’s not here now Geoffrey. Just as much as I love Francis though, I understand she needs to be with you, her real father. She can learn from you. In fact, I think she can teach you more than you can teach her," Joseph sighed. He rested his eyes in the palms of his hands. "Evelyn’s not here to take care of her, or you. You need to learn that life doesn’t always go your way. If you want to take care of her now, if you want to do it properly, tell her the truth. There will come a time when she will want to know. You have to tell her. No matter what." Joseph looked up, watching Geoffrey who only continued to face the wall. Joseph stood and headed towards the door. "You’re a good man Geoffrey. I know you’ll do the right thing."

By the time Geoffrey finally turned around, Joseph was gone.

The next morning, Frankie walked into the kitchen to find Geoffrey as he always was in the morning. His shimmering black hair combed back, his Rayban sunglasses covering his eyes and the black suit with silver tie covering his body. He read the New York Times while a cup of coffee sat untouched on the kitchen table. A half piece of toast with strawberry jam lay on a pristine white plate. Frankie snatched the piece of toast and sat down across from Geoffrey.

"So, who were you talking to last night?" she asked through a mouthful.

"No one. Dreaming again?"

"Don’t play this bullsh—"

"Don’t swear Francis. It is unbecoming of a growing young lady." Frankie’s eyes narrowed as she tried to burn a hole through the newspaper and Geoffrey’s stupid tie.

"Look buddy, I'm 15 years old now. Granted not an adult and I will not deny the fact that I was using my new security system in order to listen in on your conversation this morning. However, I believe I have the right to know some stuff, particularly that of my past."

Geoffrey folded the newspaper and laid it on the table. His face showed no emotion, it was always kept in an unreadable stance. However, mentally he was impressed by the way Francis was upholding the conversation. She had not resorted to physical violence, or screaming. He decided to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"Proceed with any questions you may have then."

"First off, just exactly who is my father? ...Transmission of genetic code...You were never my father? I guess this just leads me to my second question. Who is Evelyn? Hell, who are you for that matter?" Frankie decided those were plenty of questions and decided that her fingers would be better to watch than Geoffrey’s face.

"You repeat your first question twice, so I will address it in the most encompassing way possible. Your mother was Evelyn Conners. You are the daughter of Evelyn Marta Conners, Francis Joy Conners.

"Your second question, you will answer for me. Who is your father, Francis? Your mother gave you twenty-one chromosomes, and I know who gave you the other twenty-one. But the transfer of genetic information does not make a man a father. So tell me, Francis. Tell me who your father is. And if it is still important to you, I will tell you the source of the second half of your genetic code." At this moment, Geoffrey took off his sunglasses and stared straight at Frankie. Frankie looked up and flinched at having seen the cold blue eyes of her guardian staring at her.

"Genetic transmission links as much as code between servers. However, unlike code in servers that can be deleted or changed, genetic information cannot. Codes in servers can be saved, kept forever, just like that of human genes, saved in a child form. I think I will go as far as saying that you are my father, and if so, I am a part of you. I am half of you. I am Evelyn and you combined into a human...by product if you will. Whether you like it or not Geoffrey, I carry your code in me and that code makes me who I am."

"There are some secrets which can't be kept, I suppose, and I shouldn't have underestimated your intuition. I'm honored that you consider me your father in a spiritual sense, and it is true that I'm also your father in a physical sense. We share half of our genetic makeup.

"But to realize that should not be to abandon the man who raised you, Joseph Conners. He gave you a better childhood than I would have cared to, and both you and I are superior beings as a result of his sacrifice."

Geoffrey put his sunglasses back on, reopened his newspaper. "A round of applause for yourself and your foster father for bringing up a history which was better left forgotten. The wrongs have been set right - you are under my care, and you are my child."

Frankie stood and left the kitchen. When she was gone, Geoffrey allowed himself to release the air he was holding in his lungs. Close to what would be considered a sigh of relief. He closed his eyes and hoped that those would be the only questions that he would have to answer of his past. He opened his eyes and began to read the newspaper.