Our father had died when we were teenagers, and afterward Mom became terrified of losing anyone else. I responded by becoming responsible.
Rebecca responded by running.
At twenty-one she moved to Arizona.
At twenty-two she came home.
At twenty-three she enrolled in culinary school, quit, moved in with a photographer, left him, and announced she was going to work on a cruise ship.
By twenty-four, she was waitressing outside Richmond and calling me every few weeks with another emergency.
That final night, she needed $900.
“For what?”
“A deposit.”
“On what?”
“A room.”
“You said Tyler was letting you stay with him.”
“That changed.”
Of course it had.
I remember standing in the nursery my husband and I were painting, my free hand resting on my stomach.
“Becky, I can’t keep doing this.”
“I’m not asking you to keep doing anything.”
“You’re asking me for almost a thousand dollars.”
