his face around here,
not after last year. And as for
his wanting to play “grandpa,”
I really don’t think so!
I’m conflicted about his plans.
I want no confrontations, no bad
blood. (Especially not if it’s going
to be spilled in the baptismal
fount, or over the icing on
my birthday cake!)
But, despite everything that
went down over my summer
in Albuquerque, I want to see
Dad again. He’s a freak, true,
and a piss-poor father.
But he still belongs to me.
Mom Is Still Ranting
And suddenly she seems to intuit
my inner turmoil, which only
serves to make her angrier still.
You can’t want him to come
here, Kristina? Do you really
want him to spoil this special day?
What can I say but the truth?
“Why does he have to spoil
anything, Mom? You’ve been
divorced, like, forever. Can’t
you bury the hatchet—and not
literally? Can’t you just let it go?”
Hunter starts to fuss—he’s still