"It's complicated," Walter says. "I get that, and you'll need time… to process… to deal with it all." I reach out to grab the menu, needing something to distract me. "You're going to have plenty to do."
"With the house."
Walter nods. "A lot changed for your father over the past nine or so years… after you guys fell out."
"We didn't fall out as far as I was concerned," I snap. "I got mad with him, and he… he just never called me again."
"He didn't think you wanted to have anything to do with him anymore," Walter says. "It was hard for him, you being so far away."
"I just did that journey in a day," I say. "And I'm only nineteen. A fully grown man should have found it easy."
Walter shakes his head, sliding back against the cold vinyl of the booth seat. "I can't tell you what happened or why it happened. I'm not here to try to explain the actions of a dead man. All I can do is tell you about the will and give you the note your father left for you. You're gonna have to come to your own conclusions about it all."
The waitress returns with our drinks and asks for our food order. I'm still not feeling like I can stomach anything too flavorsome, so I opt to order a bowl of fries. "Order something more than fries," Walter says. "That's not going to fill you up."
I shake my head. "That's all I want right now."
Walter orders a steak, and the waitress retreats, leaving me to face this awkward conversation. "I didn't expect him to leave me anything."
"You're his only blood-related child," Walter says. "Of course, he was going to leave you something." I frown, wondering why Walter specified blood-related in that sentence. "He may have made some stupid mistakes in his life, but he wasn't a bad man. There wasn't a day that went by without him carrying a picture of you in his wallet. He had this too." Walter fishes around in the pocket of his jeans and pulls out a bunch of keys. There's a cheap plastic photo keyring with a picture of me, complete with gap-teeth and uneven bangs. The sight of it hits me in the chest like a boulder. "These are the keys to the house. This is the address." He forages around in the other pocket, bringing out a piece of paper. "It's just outside of town, a huge old place. I'll take you there after we're done here."
"Huge? How come? Wasn't he living by himself?"
Walter shakes his head. "That's what I need to talk to you about. After you guys lost touch, your dad was lost. He needed to find a purpose… he started fostering kids. They kept coming, and for whatever reason, they never left."
"Fostering?" Now there are lots of things that Walter could have said to me about my dad that I would have believed, but learning he was a foster dad, well, that just doesn't fit with what I thought I knew about him at all.
"He was great at it. All boys. I think it filled a gap."
"So, what's happened to them now? Did they have to find them someone else to care for them?"
Walter shakes his head and smiles. "That's the thing. They're all old enough to look after themselves, and your dad would never have put them out on the street."
I frown, trying to make sense of what my Uncle is saying. "So, they're still at the house?"
"Yeah. Your dad left it to all of you."
"To all of us? How many of them are there?" I ask.
"That's where this gets interesting," Walter says. "You have eleven foster brothers."
"ELEVEN!" I must say that number loudly because the few other customers in the diner turn around to look at me with interest. "Eleven?" I say more quietly.
"Yep. Eleven."
"And they're living at the house?"
"Yep. All of them."
I swallow, feeling my throat make a gulping sound. I shake my head, wondering at the news I've had to face in just a matter of days. "And they're going to stay there? They aren’t staying in college accommodation."
"No. They're finishing up college staying at home. Your dad was heavily involved with their training and, to be honest, the cost of eleven rooms when they have space here was just too much. They all play for the football team. I suppose once they're done, they might decide to move on. If they can, go pro and sell the place, you know."
"But what if I want to sell the place now?"
"Do you?" Walter asks, his eyebrows rising.
Is it not the right thing for me to be thinking? In my mind, I was imagining that my share from the house sale could finance me setting up a home near my mom. Now it seems that isn't an option.