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He looks at me, anger smoking,
black, in his already dark eyes.
I suppose you heard all that.
I hate talking ill about your father,
but that boy is doomed to go
straight on down to the devil
when he dies. He moves toward
me, trembling slightly. I should’a
/>
beat that boy more. He never
did have an ounce of respect
or caring for anyone except for
himself. Not even for your mama,
I’m guessing. I told Maureen
he was gonna end up badly
if she didn’t … never mind.
GRANDFATHER IS STERN
To put it too mildly. I love him,
of course. How could I not
love someone who gathered me
in, offered a home and his unique
brand of love? It’s hard for him
to love, I think. He has been divorced.
Remarried. Widowed. Left to live
mostly alone until Aunt Cora
reappeared, with little toddler me
tucked haphazardly under one arm.
I do love him. But sometimes he’s harsh.
“Mean” might be more accurate.
He reminds me of a cop walking
