When I called Ellie that evening from home, hoping she could fill me in on more details about her discovery of our father's homosexuality, she didn't have all that much to add. She reminded me that our father, after our mother's death three years ago, moved out of Hyde Park, the university neighbourhood, and bought a three-bedroom apartment on Sheridan Road off Glenlake overlooking Lake Michigan. He installed his "catamite," as Ellie called the man living with him, in one of the bedrooms, kept the master bedroom for himself, and used the third bedroom for his study. He was writing a book on the history of the American press, a project he had long talked about but never had much time for when working at the University of Chicago. 

"He seems happy," Ellie reported. "When I left his apartment, he even hugged me–me, his wretched troublemaking daughter, the wicked witch of the West–if you can visualise that. But why don't you come see for yourself?"

I decided I would, and booked a flight for the following Friday, planning to return on Sunday. I called my father, telling him that I had some business on in Chicago and would like it if we could meet for lunch or dinner on Saturday. The truth was, I hadn't seen all that much of him since our mother died, and I didn't want him to think I was coming in as a result of what he would likely suspect was Ellie's news about his being gay. He told me to come ahead, suggesting that lunch on Saturday was best. He said that he had someone he wanted me to meet. He didn't invite me to stay over at his place while I was in Chicago.

I suppose I could have stayed at Ellie's apartment. So far as I knew, at the moment she was living alone. But the prospect of the chaos of my sister's life, which figured to be reflected in her living arrangements, put me off, so I booked a room at The Drake.

Ellie picked me up at O'Hare in her 11-year-old Honda. As I threw my bag into her trunk, I noted her several bumper stickers: for the past two Democrat party candidates for president, others that read, If Animals Could Talk, We'd All Be Vegetarians; Yoga Ain't for Yuppies; If You're Pro-Choice, Follow Me to The Polls; Save the Earth, We'll Destroy the Other Planets Later, and a combined white cross, Jewish star and Islamic crescent on a blue background used to spell out the word Co-Exist. I noticed that she also had a peace sign tattooed on the inner wrist of her left hand.