When my father needed extra help at home in his later years, I found someone to look after him, but that person only caused us problems. One day, I came home and saw fear in my father’s eyes when he talked about the carer, which led me to decide to let her go.
I thought hiring a caregiver for my father, Frank, would make his life easier. It was supposed to bring peace of mind, not paranoia. But that was exactly what happened when our personal belongings started to go missing.
My father was a proud, stubborn, independent man, the kind of man who refused to ask for directions even when he was hopelessly lost. But after a minor fall left him injured and unable to take care of himself, he had no choice but to accept help.
His doctor insisted he needed help, and for once, I stood my ground.
“I can’t be here all the time, Dad,” I said. ‘You need someone.’
My job was demanding and I couldn’t always be by his side. We both needed someone we could trust, someone who cared. He hated it, but I won him over when he saw the logic of it all. And that’s when Tessa came into our lives…
She came highly recommended, by a friend. In her mid-thirties, she had the kind of warm presence that put people at ease. She was patient, sweet, kind, attentive and professional.
She was the complete package. Surprisingly, she also knew Dad’s favorite topics: old war stories, jazz music and classic cars. Dad grew fond of her faster than he expected.
Tessa made sure he ate, helped him with his medication and even sat with him on the porch for hours, listening to his endless stories. After a few days, she made him laugh, something I hadn’t seen in months!
She was… perfect. Almost too perfect.
At first, I was relieved by the extra help. I felt like I could finally breathe again. For the first time in months, I didn’t feel like I had to choose between my career and taking care of him. But that relief, unfortunately, didn’t last.
One night, while I was clearing the dinner dishes long after Tessa had gone home, Dad suddenly grabbed my wrist with an urgency that sent a chill down my spine. He had a look in his eyes that I hadn’t seen since I was a child: fear…
“Darling, he’s not who he says he is,” he whispered, even though we were the only people in the house. His voice was hoarse and his hands were trembling slightly. ‘And he takes things.’
I frowned, confused by his statement. ”Takes things? What do you mean?”
He looked towards the hallway, as if she might still be lurking, listening. He hesitated openly before speaking. “Small things. My old flannel shirt. A book I’ve had since university. The pocket watch your mother gave me before she died.”
His voice trembled. “I don’t know why. But I don’t trust her.”
I sighed, keeping my voice soft. “Dad, maybe you lost them. You know how forgetful you are lately.”
His lips tightened into a thin line, as if he were pondering what I was saying but didn’t agree. However, he said nothing more. I dismissed it and convinced myself it was just paranoia. I also speculated that maybe my father harbored some resentment at needing help.
That night, however, something was eating at me. Dad had never been one to accuse people lightly. And why was he so afraid? I tried to put it out of my mind, but then something happened that got on my nerves.
Lately, despite liking Tessa, my father had become distant when she was around. So when I heard a strange phone call, I knew something was wrong. I came home late from work, exhausted, sneaking in through the back door so as not to wake him.
But when I went out into the hallway, I heard Tessa’s voice, deep and urgent.
“No, it’s not time yet,” she murmured. ”He’s weak. I think I need a week or two.”
I stopped dead in my tracks.
Was she talking about Dad? My hands clenched into fists. Weak? A week or two for what? Adrenaline coursed through my veins. I wanted to go in there and demand answers, but something told me not to.
I stealthily slipped away before she noticed my presence and locked myself in my room, my heart pounding.
Suddenly, Dad’s words echoed in my mind. She is not who she claims to be. I hardly slept that night. Was she waiting for something to happen to her? Was she planning something? Was she… dangerous?
The next morning, I watched her closely. I noticed things I hadn’t noticed before: how carefully she moved around the house, how she seemed to know exactly where things were even though I hadn’t shown her, how she looked at Dad when she thought no one was looking.
At that moment I made a decision: I would fire her that very night. No discussion. But I never got the chance, because fate had other plans.
When I got home, something didn’t add up. The lights were off and the house was eerily silent. My father wasn’t in his usual spot by the window. My stomach churned.
Then I heard it: a cry.
Not just any cry, her cry!
Panicked, I ran towards the sound, my heart pounding in my chest.
I ran into the living room and found my father slumped on the sofa, his face in his hands. In front of him, Tessa was on her knees, trembling and with tears in her eyes, holding a pile of papers.
I stood there, speechless, confused by what I was seeing.
“Monica,” said Tessa, turning to me when she realized I was in the room. Her voice was raw. ”I can explain. Please listen.”
I was determined to protect my father and myself. I was deciding whether to scream or call the police, but then I saw it when my gaze wandered to the coffee table…
There was Dad’s old flannel shirt. My missing blouse. And in Tessa’s hands – my heart almost stopped – a DNA test!
A silence stretched between us, charged with something I couldn’t name.
“I had to know,” she whispered, breaking the disturbing silence interrupted by her sobs. ‘I wasn’t trying to hurt him. I wasn’t stealing anything or taking money from you. I wasn’t lying about caring about him either. I just… needed proof.”
Tessa continued, ’I only took the shirt and your blouse because I needed hair samples for the DNA test.”
At that moment, Dad looked up, his eyes red and his breathing laboured. He looked at me and then back at her. He swallowed. “She’s my daughter. Your older sister, Monica.”
The words hung in the air, suffocating.
My knees buckled. ‘What?”
His voice cracked. ’I abandoned her. Years ago. I didn’t know where she had ended up. But now she’s here. She did something I couldn’t: she found me.”
I felt my legs go weak.
All the pieces fell into place. The missing objects hadn’t been stolen, they had been collected. And my father’s fear?
Not of her.
Of the past. Of the truth. Of what he had done.
Tessa let out a trembling sigh as she addressed him. “I’ve spent my whole life wondering about you. Who you were. Why you left. When I found out your name, I had to know.”
“I just wanted to meet him. To be close, even if he didn’t know who I was,” Tessa confessed to me. “But when the test came back positive, I didn’t know how to tell him.”
“But the strange call you made yesterday… I heard you. Who were you talking to about waiting for the test results?“ I asked.
“I was talking to a private investigator I recently hired, after saving enough to afford it after all these years. His job was to locate my biological father,” Tessa explained.
“I had been looking for Frank on my own for years, and once I found him through the private investigator, I wanted to confirm our connection before revealing the truth. The DNA test was part of that,” she continued.
“The investigator has been pressuring me to bring him up to date and close the case, but I wasn’t emotionally ready to face Frank yet. I needed more time to process everything and think about how to tell him, but Frank confronted me about the missing items and I told him the truth.”
Dad’s hands trembled as he took her. “I never meant to leave you. I didn’t. I didn’t. I was a stupid kid who made mistakes. But if you’ll let me, I want to fix this. I see you now and I’m so sorry.
A tear rolled down his cheek. She hesitated, then took his hand. “I don’t need you to fix anything, and I don’t want anything,” she whispered. “I just wanted to get to know you.”
A heartbeat of silence. Then Dad did something I didn’t expect.
He pulled her in and gave her a hug.
A lump formed in my throat as I watched them: two strangers, united by blood, by the years lost, by a second chance neither of them had ever expected. And for the first time, I wasn’t afraid of Tessa.
I felt admiration for her.
Because despite everything – despite the years, the pain, the secrecy – he hadn’t come here for revenge or money, but for something much more valuable.
Dad’s voice broke the silence, soft but sure.
“Are you staying for dinner?” he asked.
Tessa blinked, surprised. ”Dinner?”
He nodded. “I can’t change the past. I can’t fix what I did. But I’d like to try, if you’ll let me.”
Tessa let out a tremulous laugh. ”Yes, I’d like that.”
And just like that, everything changed.
We were no longer strangers. We were family.
And for the first time in a long time, I knew we were going to be all right.