“The morning after Erin told me she was pregnant, um, my half-sister Maggie came to my mom’s place. And she wasn’t happy with me. Who could blame her? What she was upset about, though, um, were rumors that Holly Alto was pregnant with my baby. ‘Holly’s MY age,’ Maggie had said matter-of-factly. She spoke in a monotone, never raised her voice ever. Much like my father.
That was all she would actually say to me on the matter. My sister was a woman of very few words. What words she did have were poured into her books, twenty-six of them in all.”
Ms. Howe interrupted again. “So your sister became a successful novelist.”
“Very. Very successful.”
“But it came at a price.”
My father sighed again.
So I went back to my mother’s place and I devoted myself to my music and my painting while waiting for the babies to be born.
I remember vividly the night Holly and I brought Noah from the hospital. I remember standing in the garden and in the foyer and wondering, ‘what the heck have I done?’
‘What the heck have I gotten myself into?’
So I picked up Noah and I held him for a few seconds. And I was bawling like a baby. I think I did more crying than he did.
The day after Noah was born, Erin told me that Nicholas had been born the same night. And we had an argument … I don’t even recall what was said … but at any rate, Erin and I broke up.”
-- to be continued --
No comments:
Post a Comment