Don’t Let Him Know I’m Still Alive
I had waited four minutes to answer. I remember nothing about that night. I have no memory of it at all.
Not that I know of, honey. Why?
no reason. long week.
And then me:
Every marriage has stretches like this. Your mother and I had a bad year around when you were nine. You get through it. D’s under a lot of pressure at work. Try to give him a little grace. Love you. Go to sleep.
ok. night dad.
I read it maybe fifteen times.
*Did she ever not want to come home.* Eleven-forty at night. A question about her dead mother that was not a question about her dead mother.
That is what it looks like. Nobody sends a flare. What people send is one strange sentence at a quarter to midnight, and then they wait to see what comes back, and what came back from me was *give him a little grace.*