“You can ask me anything.” “Is it hard to love him?” “No.” She didn’t even hesitate. “Do you understand him?” “Not always. But Ari, I don’t always have to understand the people I love.” “Well, maybe I do.” “It’s hard for you, isn’t it?” “I don’t know him, Mom.” “I know you’re going to get mad at me when I say this, Ari, but I’m going to say it anyway. I think someday you will understand.” “Yeah,” I said. “Someday.” Someday, I would understand my father. Someday he would tell me who he was. Someday. I hated that word.
