Chapter 40: Sibling Rivalry
I don’t remember the walk back to the house—I’m fairly certain I floated the whole way, my feet never touching the ground. I have no memory of swishing through the damp grass or clomping up the porch steps, or even opening the screen door to duck inside. It’s just not there. I was in the shed with my dad, my heart swollen with a fierce love I had begun to think I would never feel for the man, my mind bound out in a whirl of emotions, his words echoing in me, his quiet acceptance of me for who I am and his nonjudgmental stance such a refreshing contrast to the bigotry I’ve found in my mom, and then I walked through the kitchen door. There was no in-between.
Aunt Bobbie is still at the sink, rinsing her hands, but the pumpkin is now in the middle of the table on
