” Her smile turned into a frown when she mentioned her parents’ breakup.“I was five when he didn’t come home from work one day. My mother trie... calling his cell phone but it was turned off. The next day she was served with divorce papers.“It wasn’t pretty,” she sighed, thinking about her parents and the divorce. I gave her time and waited patiently.“My father was – is – just a bit of mist, or a fragment of a memory. He never returned, never took me for a weekend or a summer. My father forgot I. We talked easily, liked old friends. At 22, she was a little older than I had thought. She was married to a teacher in a nearby Junior High School, a few years older than she. He had been offered the job that summer and they had moved to the area just before school started. It turned out she knew as few people as I did. We were virtually strangers to everyone around us.As she spoke about her marriage she made it sound like she was happy, but there was something hesitant in her voice. It seemed. More

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