Not young, or at least older than myself, but wasn’t youth relative? Wasn’t everything? When I was ten, I distinctly remembered thinking my mother was practically at death’s door. Anthony watched quietly from the chair across from me. Did he live up to all your memories? Or did those two years give him a rosy tint? Anthony’s question brought me back to my surroundings and away from my memories of damp grass and the smell of freshly turned earth.ĭisappointment? I asked, unable to imagine why she thought seeing the man again could ever leave me disappointed. The imagery of them had haunted me, had kept me awake at night.Īnd how do you feel about him now? Was seeing him again a disappointment?ĭr. I remembered the words as well as if I had said them myself. Let’s just pretend you didn’t read the naughty bits.
Dedicationĭedicated to my mother, with her love of things horrific.
Thanks to my dearest friend, Jonathan Grey, and to my wonderful husband Aaron, both of whom assisted and suffered through my obsession with this story with very little complaint. Writing this story has been the most fun I’ve had on any single project, and I owe a great deal of that to the three of you. I want to thank Ofelia Gränd, Al Stewart and Claire Davis. Or are they?Īll the good ones are either married or straight. When he is introduced to a friend's godson things just might be starting to look up. Turning thirty and newly out of the hospital, the last thing he wants to do is attend a birthday dinner even if it is being thrown in his honor. Christopher Minnick is at a bad place in his life.
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