October 31, 2016 - 23:17
“Who are you?” she asked blankly. She wasn’t joking…” Hi Yummy Mommy.” At least she knew who I was. (176)
Geek passed it to me. “On your father’s bookshelf.” It was a dusty old tome with a green cloth cover. The harvest of the years. I opened it to the first yellowed page and read the opening paragraph aloud. “Back of every plant, every shellfish, every burrowing rodent or ravaging animal, and back of every human being, there stretches an illimitable and mysterious heredity…” the words were familiar. Ocean was studying my face, listening intently, so I read on.” …The new-born child has a heritage of tendencies and inclinations which furnish the foundation or groundwork from which he must build his house of Life.” I closed the book. “I don’t get it,” Ocean said.” There’s too many big words.”” It just means that you’ll probably be like your mom in some ways,” Geek said.” Oh, goodie.” She snuggled in closer to me. (177/178)
“You were in Pocatello with that man,” Lloyd says. “You were seen there. I demand to know what you were doing.” You get up slowly, brush off the snow, and you look your father in the eye. “We were having milk shakes,” you say, which must have squared with his information, because for a minute, knowing that much to be true, everyone relaxes a little, wanting to believe that’s all there is to it, and now they can all go home. “To celebrate my abortion.” You look from Lloyd to Cassie’s daddy, shrug at the two of them, and turn toward the porch. (201)