Yes and No...the Answer to Your First Question

Did I always know that my dad wasn't my "dad"? Yes, at times I think I knew. Other times, no, I thought my parents were too "perfect" to have a story like this in their closet.

When I tell you that I was raised by "perfect" parents, of course, I wasn't, but it took me years to understand that they had made mistakes. I remember I was in high school, turning 18. I had a pretty serious boyfriend (Ray) who had a different relationship with his parents than I did. His parents were more lenient. For instance, my parents gave me a curfew. It didn't matter what the circumstance was; I was to be home before the curfew. This meant that if I was somewhere I shouldn't have been (a party), calling them to tell them that I was going to be late due to not having a sober driver wasn't an option. I put myself in some sketchy situations, but I never missed my curfew. This may be a terrible example, but I hope it makes the point. My parents didn't share their life experiences with me, and I told a lot of lies to do the things other kids my age were doing. I realize now that I didn't know them, and they knew just a little bit more about me.

Back to Ray...It was close to my birthday, and Ray and I were talking about my parents' wedding anniversary that was in July. My dad was in the living room with us, and Ray asked how many years they had been married. My dad told him it had been their 18th anniversary. I heard my dad, but didn't think much about what he had said. As soon as he left the room, Ray said, "Kelli, your parents were three-months pregnant for you when they got married." To which I said, "Not possible. They would never have had sex before marriage." When my dad walked back in the room, I mentioned what Ray had said, and my dad laughed. And then my dad commented something about it taking me 18 years to figure it out. To say I was shocked really doesn't come close to describing what I felt. My parents, the two perfect people, had had premarital sex!

Okay, so before that day, I may have felt like something was off, but I discounted it because I had convinced myself that my parents were not capable of whatever it would take to harbor a secret of this caliber.

I remember one other specific time before I graduated from high school when I thought for a half-second, maybe you aren't my biological dad. When I say I was a rotten teenager, I am not exaggerating. I always felt like something was off with my relationship with my dad, yet when I mentioned it to my mom, she always said that I was imagining it. I have a younger sister, and she got away with things I didn't. For instance, when I asked if I could go out with friends, I got drilled. My dad wanted to know where I was going, who was going to be there, what time I planned to be home, etc. My sister would ask, and he would not do the same. Now, was my sister up to the things I was up to? Not all the time, but she had her fun. She was just way less vocal, and her friends didn't have run-ins with the cops like mine sometimes did. Did I mention my dad was a cop? Ya, he busted some of the parties I attended, but he never caught me.

As my friend, Nichol, would say, "Commercial Break". I have to interrupt for a quick moment to tell a funny story. Last summer, I went on a date with a guy who spent time in my little town (Iron River) as a teenager when he visited his grandparents. I did not know "Dave"; I met him online dating, but I knew his cousins, although they were much younger than me. Anyway, it wasn't a love connection, but we had a nice evening talking about our younger days. This guy decides to tell me a story about an apartment he rented when he was 20 years old, in Iron River. I would have been a senior in high school at this time. Anyway, Dave proceeded to tell me how this party was getting off to a great start, but he would always remember this girl who arrived with a group of other girls and proceeded to walk into the apartment looking for space in a closet. He described the situation as the strangest thing he had ever seen. He couldn't remember why the girl needed to know where the best hiding spot was, but he remembered her being insistent on finding it.

Guess who that girl was? Yuppers, it was me. It was always the first thing I did when I went to a party. One time, I was hiding, and the spot was so good that the owner put the beer keg next to me in the closet. Now that wasn't cool because the first thing the police looked for was the beer. The second thing they looked for was me, if my dad was on duty. The third thing was the minors in possession. I kid you not, it was in that order.

Okay, back to the second time I had an intuition that something was not right in my family. Did I tell you yet that I was a horrible teenager? I was. I was also very "mouthy". I gave it mostly to my mom, but occasionally I got really stupid and talked back to my dad. I can't remember what I had done or said, but my dad said, "And to think that I sold my snowmobiles to take you home from the hospital." Of course, I responded with, "Not my problem, you're the one who knocked mom up." I remember later thinking that that was a really shitty thing to say to me, UNLESS, unless he wasn't my biological father. But again, I had perfect parents, so I quickly let those thoughts go.