When Trace first told me about this I thought he was joking. The whole thing just sounded so completely outlandish that I laughed. The kind of obnoxious laugh that starts in your stomach and shakes your whole body. Oh man, did I laugh. Then I realized that it wasn't April and Trace wasn't laughing with me. Trace doesn't have a very sarcastic approach to humor. He likes his jokes to be obvious and straightforward, so clearly something was wrong here. 

"My father has another family." He repeated himself. 

Laughing no longer felt appropriate so I kept my mouth shut this time around.

"God, Justin, I. . .fuck."

But that was a week ago. Now we've kind of settled into the idea that Trace's dear old dad fathered a child with a woman besides Trace's mom before he was born. To be fair, I don't think we'll ever settle into it, but at least now we know the truth. Or at least some version of the truth.

Trace made me play roles of witness and support when he further questioned his dad about it. It was a really difficult moment that, even though I've known Trace and his family since I was in diapers, I wasn't sure I should really be there for. Trace assured me that Mr. Ayala owed me an explanation just as much as he owed his actual son one. I damn near thought I was going to have to hold Trace's hand, which I totally would have done had he severely needed it, so long as it was never spoken of again. It was strange and difficult to watch Mr. Ayala stutter and cry through an explanation that was decades overdue, but Trace handled it seemingly well. He listened and nodded when it was appropriate, and after Mr. Ayala had run out of things to say, he calmly stood up and left. I was at a loss of things to do so I offered his father the most genuine smile I could manage and followed Trace out of the room. It went against my southern roots to impolitely exit a room like that, but this was a beyond fucked up situation, so I made an exception.

Mr. Ayala explained that before he met Trace's mother and his current wife, he was depressed with a drinking problem and had a fling with a women up north. When he found out he tried to stick around for the child, but his problems were too much and the woman kicked him out and wouldn't let him even meet his daughter until he had cleaned up his act. That was when he came back to Memphis to regroup. He ended up meeting Mrs. Ayala and having Trace a year later. He didn't explain to Trace why he had never informed him of this and Trace never asked. He only said that he had never seen this woman since and had never cheated on Trace's mom, which was really the only relieving part of that conversation. 

He did, however conveniently, mention that recently his estranged daughter had gotten in contact with him somehow via email and wanted to meet. Essentially, he was giving Trace the option of meeting her if he wanted to, but wanted to let him know there was no pressure if he chose not to. This was all too much for me to take in, so I couldn't imagine how my best friend was handling it. 

Currently, he was handling it by not talking about it at all. Life had continued as reluctantly normal as possible since that conversation. We went to the bar. I worked, he drank a normal amount. We played basketball. I won, he lost a normal amount. We chased girls. I succeeded, he struck out a normal amount. It was almost as if nothing had happened. I was afraid to bring it up, assuming he would do so when he felt ready, but tried my best to silently let him know I was there for him. Other than that, the world kept rotating on its axis just like it had since before we were born. Like it had before she was born.