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clouds had reached Brentwood and had drawn a dark
gray veil over the trees, the grass and flowers. The
wind was picking up and the tree branches were
swaying. They looked like they were all saying, "No,
no, no."
Why did they adopt me? If I had asked myself
this question once, I had asked it a thousand times.
My mother wouldn't reveal any answers, but I had my
own deep suspicions, suspicions I had never
expressed before, even to Doctor Marlowe. When I
glanced at her, I thought she was hoping I would now
and I thought maybe this was one reason she wanted
me in this group therapy.
"I can't imagine, could never imagine my
mother having a baby the normal way," I began. "I
have seen my father kiss her on the forehead and
occasionally on the cheek, but I have never seen them
kiss like people in love, never on the lips. Mother
probably would be thinking of some contagious
disease if he did. Even when he kissed her on the
forehead, she would turn away and wipe it off with
the back of her hand. Sometimes, he saw her do it;
sometimes he didn't."
"Don't they sleep together?" Star asked. "Not in the same bed," I said. "They always had
twin beds separated by a nightstand. He's not there
anymore, of course."
"But even people who don't spend the night in
the same bed can get together long enough to make a
baby," Jade said. "I have friends whose parents even
have separate bedrooms."
