Entering the house was like walking into some kind of historical museum. I remembered things all too well, but I felt like I was looking at the artifacts of someone else’s life. Photos on the end table. A sofa I remembered lying on watching soaps. I forgot that I’d done that when Willa started school. A stuffed animal on my bed that I didn’t recognize with a note that just said ‘Someday.’ Clothes in my closet that I’d left behind. A book. It looked familiar, but I couldn’t identify why until I reviewed memories of my former life. I’d pressed my prom corsage between its pages before I knew I was pregnant. This time, I’d just dumped the stupid flower in the garbage.There was a picture next to Mother’s bed of her pushing me in a swing at the neighborhood park. I didn’t remember that. It looked like we were having fun. If I had it to do over again, maybe I’d wait until Dad died and then try to make contact with the woman she’d become.I snorted at my stupidity. I was doing it over. And not. "Mom, I've got a questionfor you?" I began. She waited expectantly. "How come Grandma and Grandpahardly ever come around? They only live about a hundred miles away." Istopped and waited.Mom cast a furtive glance at Aunt Melissa. Her eyes seemed pleading. Icould read that look, it said: "should I tell her?" Mom sighed aloud andbegan. "Joan, the main reason we've not seen much of my parents over theyears is that they had no use for your father. There were words betweenyour Dad and mine on our wedding day. I've only seen them twice in thelast fifteen years though your grandmother writes to me quite often.Maybe now would be a good time to mend fences?" Yes, I had grandparents that I wouldn't recognize in a crowd of six.Maybe they forgot I was a boy named John and would simply accept me astheir granddaughter? I couldn't figure out why I felt this need to haveeveryone like me, love me. "Invite them to the wedding next Sunday," Ibegged Mom. She looked at me as if she wanted to comply, but.
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