![]() ![]() I assume it was the table in the bay window. He took his first wife here for special occasions. We’re sitting in his favorite restaurant. I’m wearing my uniform skirt with fishnet stockings and black riding boots. I’m a senior at an all-girls private school. What happened next is that three years later, my brother has more bad news. I just made sure I was around for whatever happened next. I waited for him to volunteer, and when he didn’t, that was all right, too. I wanted to know too I just didn’t want to have to ask. The rest of the family wanted to know what happened. He’d been married for two years and a father for one. My brother’s first wife left him when he was 24. Then it was the two of us, and it was easier to pretend that my family was a different kind of family, and that I was a different kind of me. ![]() Full-time he was with his mother, but some weekends and most summers he came to stay with our father and me. Parties with friends I was supposed to have been invited to. In that category, I stick forgotten meetings, blown-off movie dates, family gatherings he never showed up for. “Voluntary” means the ones I hold him responsible for. I count the number of times he’s left me.
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