‘Go ahead. I already have,’ she said, her fingers tapping my right leg in time with the notes of a Debussy Prelude that was on the radio. On the ...oad back to Carmel she was silent, but her nimble hand never left my leg. ‘Not a word to Tess, okay?’ I announced, as we pulled into the driveway. ‘Of course not,’ she responded. ‘Just tell her the truth…that we drove down to Nepenthe…that’s Neh-penn-thay…and had a sandwich. Tess was still practicing, playing a particularly difficult movement of a. I'll never know why, but I can see looking back on those days that he resented me in a way that went beyond simple callousness. Perhaps things were bad between him and my mother, and having me around was a constant reminder. It hardly matters now anyway.Business in The Salty Toad - that was the name of uncle's tavern, a name which matched his appearance perfectly - was good that night, so I'd been forced to stay up late into the night helping to serve the guests. I had been sneaking peeks at. More

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