CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
As Thanksgiving approached, I became very nostalgic. I had wanted to get as far away from my past as I could, somehow believing the pain would disappear with time and distance, yet the memory of the colors and the scent of Indiana autumns made me long for home.
One night when Leni was asleep and the activity in the house had subsided, I sneaked into the parlor to make a collect phone call. I hadn't spoken to my father since before Jake died, although I had left messages of my well-being from time to time. I didn't know if he even cared, but for some reason I couldn't let go.
After the phone rang several times, I was ready to hang up just as my father finally answered the phone. His words were slurred when he told the operator he would accept the call, but I was still
