“Will you tell me who my Dad is?” Boothby asked again. He would randomly ask Ursula this information, she always put off the question with an I’ll tell you later. She gave no real excuse why she gave this answer. At least she never gave it to Boothby, or Bobby, or whoever else asked her this same question. She didn’t understand what the big deal with. She was Boothby’s mom. She had been there from day one and never had wanted anything else, nor had she asked anything of anyone else.
“I thought you understood I would discuss this with you when you’re older,” Ursula responded.
“But…” Boothby began.
“I love you,” Ursula interrupted.
“I love you too,” Boothby sighed.
He put off the discussion once again.
Time passed as always, and Ursula’s garden kept expanding.
Yet, that wasn’t the only thing growing. Boothby was ready to celebrate his birthday.
Hans impatiently waited for Boothby to blow out his candles, so he could have his turn at his cake.
Boothby grew into a very handsome teenager.
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