Kira's PoV:

"Are you okay?" Denise asked as she walked me to the door of her childhood home, basket of steamed dumplings at hand.

"Never better." I tried to feign a smile to play off m nervousness.

"If youre all right, why does your face match the bottom of my Christian Louboutin's?"

"I'm a terrible liar, aren't I?"

"Kira, there's absolutely nothing to worry about. My parents are nice people. Well, my Dad is the laidback one of the two; my mother can be somewhat overbearing, but she means well. Sometimes, I wonder how in the world did they find each other."

"I wonder the same about my mother and Dad." I softly rapped on the door and waited for the door to open. Everything else seemed to happen in slow motion. The door finally opened, allowing me to look into the eyes of the man who brought me into this world, Raymond Kobayashi.

He was around 5'10", and was quite handsome for a man his age. I saw my skin tone, the shape of my eyes, and my smile. I was in disbelief of actually being face-to-face with my father. My hear felt as if it was going to pound right out of my chest.

"You must be Kira," my father greeted. "I'm Denise's father. Please come in." He stepped aside while he opened the door wider for me and Denise to come in. I felt a prick of envy as I watched my sister kiss our father on the cheek. How i wish I could also greet him the same way; it feels as if I've already loved him as much as her.

"I'll take you to the dining room." Denise walked ahead of me. Just before she entered the room, she greeted, "Hi, Mom." I followed Denise as she placed the dumpling basket on the table to greet her mother, who was just finishing up the setting of the table.

"Hello, Denise," Denise's mother lit up before kissing her daughter on the cheek.When she made eye contact with me, she smiled politely and added, "And I'm guessing you are Kira." She walked towards me to shake my hand.

"Hello, Mrs. Kobayashi," I say while returning the handshake. I couldn't help but be in awe of how beautiful Denise's mother was. Flawless brown skin and mesmerizing brown eyes. Why on earth would Dad even think of being unfaithful to her? Just the, I realized he was nowhere in sight. "Where's Da- I mean Mr. Kobayashi?"

"Raymond, where are you, dear?" Mrs. Kobayashi called. "Raymond!"

"I'm right here, Phylicia," Dad answered, emerging behind me with more formal attire. "I was just changing into something less casual since we havea guest." He smiled at me before taking a seat next to his wife. The rest of us followed suit and proceeded to eat after Mrs. Kobayashi blessed the food.

"So, Kira," she began," Denise tells me you're a lawyer. That's a very fine profession."

"Thank you," I smiled in between bites of dumplings. "Denise, these dumplings are really good. They're so much better than the one's I usually get at the Chinese shop in my neighborhood."

"Thanks," Denise beamed.

"Her grandmother taught her everything she knows. That woman can cook a lot of chefs under a table," Dad added. "I miss my mother's cooking sometimes."

"Well, it's a goof thing she taught Denise her recipes," I replied.

"Nothing can ever compete with your mother's cooking, no matter how perfect," Mrs. Kobayashi stated. "I know that for a fact. My mother's crawfish etouffee and bengets were my guilty pleasure growing up. It's a mystery how I never gained an ounce."

"You're from Louisiana?"

"Baton Rouge. You haven't lived until you've eaten good Creole and Cajun cooking. My mother taught me everything she knew. However, I'm leaning more towards Creole these days; all of that seasoning in Cajun cuisine is not good for my stomach at my age."

"My mother's never taught me much about cooking. In fact, I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth."

"Well, how did you manage to eat?" Dad asked with concern.

"Personal chef."

Mrs. Kobayashi looked shocked. "A personal chef? Your mother must have had a lot of money on her hands. Too much money."

"She's a supermodel," I say, "so she's got plenty of money and then some."

"Well, who is your mother?"

"Diana Morris."

As soon as my mother's name left my lips, my father's face was paralyzed with astonishment.

"She...she's your mother?" he asked.

"She is," I confirmed. Deciding this was my chance to find out the nature of their relationship, I followed it up with, "Why? Do you know her?"

Dad became silent again while his eyes dropped down towards the table. Then, he turned his head in his wife's direction to meet her eyes.

"Well, do you?" she inquired.

Dad stared at Mrs. Kobayashi for a long time before finally responding, "Yes, I do."

"How did you meet her?" Denise intervened.

When he didn't answer right away, Mrs. Kobayashi repeated the question in a much more demanding tone: "How did you meet her?"

Even thought he was answering the both of us, Dad only look into his wife's eyes when he replied. "I met Diana on tour back in 1989, several years ago before I retired. It was when Phylicia and I were arguing because she was on my vcase about being away from home a lot. That was when my manager booked the tour. One of the cities we stopped in was L.A. Diana was just an aspiring model at the time, and I met her in a club. She found oout her ex cheated on her while they were still together, and I told her about our marital issues. We ended up having drinks and eventually went to her place. One thing led to another, and she was telling me she was pregnant a day before my tour ended. I tried to break things off, but Diana moved here unbeknownst to me. I never contacted her again, honey. I swear I didn't."

"Whether you contacted her again or not is not the issue," Mrs. Kobayashi scolded. "The importanr thing is you shouldn't have had anything to do with her to begin with!" She slapped her napkin on the table before continuing, "So, Raymond, how many other women did you impregnate on all of those tours you've been on? Are there any more?"

"No, honey," Dad pleaded. "I promise I never-"

"How can I believe anything you say?" Mrs. Kobayashi's face was twisted in disgust as she rose from the table. Before she left, she finished her rant with, "And to thik I actually believed you wanted to retire to spend time with your family. In reality, you were trying to cover up your filth. How could you do this to me?"

"Mom, wait!" Denise begged.

"Stay out of this Denise! This has nothing to do with you."

"Actually, Mrs. Kobayashi, I'm the one who told her about it," I informed. "I found out throught my mother. I'm so sorry abot this."

Denise's mother placed her hand over her heart, in complete disbelief over what just occurred. We all watched as she covered her face with her hands as she staggered backwards. Her voice was next door to tears when she said," You mean you knew about this the whole time and didn't think to tell me, Denise?"

"I only found out earlier this week when I met Kira," Denise informed. "I wanted to be sure when I invited her over. Kira desperately wanted to meet our father. I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you, Mom. I'm sorry,."

"It's bad enough that Raymond had an affair, but I had to find out through his love child. I don't know how mcuh more of this I can take. This is too much for my heart to bear."

"Phylicia, please forgive me," Dad pleaded. "I'm so sorry."

"Are you sorry for what you've done, or are you sorry for being discovered?" Mrs. Kobayashi turned towards the stairs. As she passed by her husband, who grabbed her wrist, she tensed up and snatched away before walking up the flight of stairs.

After watching his wife for a long time with a plaintive gaze, Dad turned towards Denise and I. "When Diana told me about her pregnancy, I thought she ws lying to guilt trip me into staying with her. Like I said, I never contacted her again after my tour, but that didn't stop her from calling me. I have no idea how she found out my number or where I lived to this day. The craziness didn't stop until I secretly filed a restraining order against her. Now your mother can never come within 7,000 yards of me again, and I changed my number before retirement."

"So that's when she started resenting you," I concluded. "I knew there was something she wasn't telling me."

"What did she tell you?"

"Mom told me you dumped her after I turned five."

"Well, she lied. I never knew about you, so there was no way I could have thought of leaving you. I left your mother before you were born because she was smothering me, so I couldn't believe anything she told me. Had I known she was telling the truth about being pregnant, I would've been more involved. I promise I would have."

The look in my father's eyes were shining with honesty. At that moment, I felt his tender, fatherly. The same love he showed Denise, and the same love I've been deprived of all these years. It was everything I could do to keep from crying.

"Denise, could you ever forgive your idiotic father?" Dad asked.

"you're our father," Denised answered, her voice waivering. "Of course I forgive you. Besides, I have a sister to lean on."