Chapter 9
Do you remember how I used to tell you our stories, Ruthie?
I just made things up and you listened to me like I was the pope on the Vatican balcony.
One summer day just after you’d turned five you rang my doorbell and said, Flo, can you come out on the porch and tell me a story?
Sure enough, I said, and we settled ourselves into the wicker chairs and I said what would you like a story about?
Pizza, you said. Pizza! said I. You nodded all serious so I got serious too and I said all right, here is a story called The Lonely Little Pizza.
I started telling it out and then your face changed and you said, I have to go home and poop but after I poop can I come back and you tell me the rest of the story?
Of course, I said, and I watched you climb down real careful off that chair which was too big for you and you had bandaids on your knees crisscross from a recent mishap.
But you climbed down careful and then you ran hell bent for leather over to your house and you slammed open the screen door and yelled real loud, MOM I GOT TO POOP AND THEN FLO IS GOING TO TELL ME THE REST OF HER STORY ABOUT THE LONELY LITTLE PIZZA. Well, who wouldn’t love you, Ruthie?
In a box marked “Ruthie” up in the attic you will find drawings from before you could write.
One of those drawings was you as a bride.
And oh I just remembered one letter that you sent when you were in college.
You said all the girls on your dorm floor ever talked about was how not to get pregnant.
You said you had no interest in that since you were certainly not going to give it away.
But then you changed your mind right quick and when you came home at Christmas break you and I took a walk around the block and you confessed to me that you had had sex and did I think that was bad, sex before marriage.
I said I didn’t think so, so long as you were both careful with each other, and that was a big relief to you.
Then (and I wonder if you will recall this) then you told me about your roommate going out with a boy she really liked for the first time.
It was a chilly fall day and they were in his car and she passed gas.
And she told you she quick rolled down the window and acted like she just needed some air but unfortunately it was too late.
That incident kind of spoiled the mood and he never did ask her out again and she felt real bad because she thought he would always associate her with farting.
You wanted to know did I think that was fair.
I said well of course not. You said I don’t think so either.
But then we both busted out laughing. Oh poor Kay, you said.
You sent me letters about jobs you had after you graduated, and then about Jonathan, including after your first date with him when you said you thought you’d met The One.
And you told me he was real precise the way he cut up an apple for the two of you to share and you liked that.
You told me he had the gentlest touch and was quick to smile and was patient and a good listener.
I remember thinking, My, she’s found a good one.
Course your most recent letters talk about your frustrations with him and your thoughts about divorce and that hurts me bad Ruthie and I’m sure it hurts you two as well.
I guess you can’t have a marriage without hurt and you’ll surely see what I mean when I tell you about what happened between Terrence and me, that secret I kept for so long.
But that day when you were little and I was telling you the story I had to quick think of why a pizza might be lonely, but I did it.
Children make you think of things you never would have thought you could conjure up, don’t they?
You would know now, having children of your own.
And now I’ve got to just go and set a spell and think about your children who will be steamrollered if you do go through with it.
Divorce. I don’t mean to make you feel bad, I’m just telling you my true and whole feelings, like we always have.