Thanks to superlc529 for the suggestion of writing this from Abe's point of view. Well, it's finished. If you want another just ask.

Pops sighed as he finally sat down again across from me at the chessboard. I knew from his face that if I didn't start the conversation it might be a week before I heard his voice again. "Well? How'd it go? What does she think?" I didn't dare ask the question I was dying to know – would we be moving again? Lord have mercy, I didn't think I had another move like that left in me, not even for the sake of keeping my crazy family secret.

"I never did learn how to read minds," he quipped, giving me that lopsided grin of his. How many hearts has that grin melted?

I snorted, "Could've fooled me!" Then I pointed to the board, "Your turn again." If he wasn't going to talk then I would just have to find another way to get my answers. After all two people had been up there.

"She was shocked, I don't know what she believes, - I don't think she knows either. She needs time, and so do I."

I was amazed, an answer! Before I could digest that pops spoke again. "Abraham." There was such a long pause I almost gave in to the temptation to speak. "Do you remember ... how you found out?"

Now it was my turn to be too pensive for words. Mom had told me, of course. She had no desire that I would find out the same way that she did – and she knew pops too well to believe he would broach the subject. In fact pops never spoke about it – until after mom died and then he seemed to have some death wish – to experience as many deaths as possible and catalog them all, without the inconvenience of getting picked up for indecent exposure. Which wasn't the kind of talks I wanted on the subject.

"Mom used to take me to the river with her sometimes." I finally answered. "It was easier than explaining things to a sitter. I guess I always knew." I avoided his eyes.

"I had no idea," Pops whispered, assuming the worst. "You saw me die..."

"No! No dad. It wasn't like that." I grabbed his arm. "It was just this thing between you and mom that controlled our lives and shut me out. Mom explained things to me when she figured I was ready, but you never said a word. You were too ashamed of not being like everyone else." I have never yelled at him like that, not since he went off the wall after Mom died. I almost apologized, almost told him to forget it.

"I'm sorry Abe. I wanted to give you as normal a life as I could. I didn't want to dwell on the things that caused us so much pain." How many times had he given Mom that look after some aspect of his unique existence, like his not ageing, caused her some unintended pain?

"You know, the only reason I still have one of my parents living is because my dad's immortal." I patted his arm before continuing, "Such great blessings always come at a high price. It wasn't your immortality, or eternal youth I resented, it was your silence."

Pops mouth dropped open in astonishment. "I never thought of it in quite that way," he stammered at last. "What do you want to know?"

What did I want to know? What didn't I? Where to begin? "What's it like to die?" I finally decided.

"I don't know of a death that doesn't have its share of pain. It's terrifying as well – the unknown always is, and there's a part of me that hopes that each time will be the last time." He paused a moment as if contemplating going on. "As I draw my last breath there is a feeling of such peace. I'm aware of your mother then in that moment … as if she waits for me and whatever eternal bliss would have been ours if not for this curse is instead squeezed into that all too brief moment."

"Is that why you think of it as a curse? Because it keeps you from mom?"

"That and I simply got tired of living. After your mother left life held very little interest for me – for a while."

"Why didn't you say anything? I could have helped."

Pops gave a chuckle, "You know Jo said something about my reticence, that I had been so traumatized by the reaction of the first person I told my secret to that I had ceased to trust anyone. I kept my pain over it between myself and everyone around me - even my closest friends, perpetually drifting from one place to another so that no one had a chance to discover my immortality. She said that it wasn't right … but Abe; I don't know how to be any other way. I don't think it's possible."

"You're talking to me now, aren't you?"

"I guess I am – but don't put too great a strain on me in one evening. I'm an old man and very set in my ways." We both laughed at that and turned back to the game – which the old man won by the way. Pops always did live a charmed life.

When we possess a great secret we spend a good portion of our energy keeping it - even when we rarely think of it ourselves. It shapes who we are, what we do, and how we spend our time. It determines what topics are safe for conversation and which are not, as well as what sort of people are safe to spend time with, and which are to be avoided like a plague. No matter how comfortable you appear to be in your own skin the ruling passion of your life becomes a crippling fear of discovery.

Talking with Abe made me realize that I had hidden more from him than just the uncomfortable aspects of my condition, but a good portion of myself as well. Not just things that had happened in my past, but the unique perspective of modern life that my past had given me, and in so doing deprived him of opportunities to share his impressions and unique perspective of life with me.

I still don't know how Jo took my secret. She didn't have me committed, or run away in horror - and that is enough for right now. We'll talk about it again, when she's ready.