Chapter 100

“They couldn’t even smile for their anniversary photo?” I wonder.

“Daddy was an honorable man, keeping his head down, loving us girls from his own distance,” Sarajane says.

“Sometimes I wasn’t even sure if he lived at home or just slept there for appearances,” Mom comments.

“He worked in a pulley factory, and the metal shavings would work their way into the soles of his shoes, which scratched our wood floors, which enraged Lola,” Sarajane remembers. “She castrated him into an empty place setting at our supper table.”

“Daddy deserved better,” Mom weakly manages.

Sarajane shakes her head. “How’d this get in here?”

We come closer. It’s a photo of her husband, before drinking carried him away and she had the bastard legally declared dead.

“Did you ever find out what became of him?” Olivia asks.

Sarajane says “yes,” but nothing else.