Today is going to be a little different. Today, I'm going to tell you a story.
When I was twelve years old, this young couple, friends of the family, asked me to babysit their infant daughter, just six months old. Nobody had ever trusted me with such a grown-up duty before, and I was thrilled and honored. Not only that, but Molly, the young wife,* who was probably about 27 or so at the time, would talk to me as if I were one of her girlfriends, asking me what I thought they should name their second baby, whether I liked Pink Floyd (I had no idea who they were), etc. One day, when we were having one of these girl talks, she told me the following story:
Molly came home from work one day to find their dog dead. She collapsed into tears, and went into the house to find Sam (who did not know about the dog), but he was in the shower. So she walked into the bathroom, still crying, and told him what had happened. Sam stepped out of the shower, completely naked and soaking wet (as one tends to be, stepping out of the shower), and took her in his arms. And she felt better.
At twelve, I thought this was just about the most romantic story I ever heard, and actually I still think it's pretty good.
Molly and Sam got divorced a few years after this--just about a year after I moved to another city. I was more devastated by that divorce, at least superficially, than by my own parents' divorce--they were so young and cute and happy! They had so many plans!
I realized last night that that little baby, little Tolliver, is now 14, nearly 15, older that I was when I babysat for her. (The last picture I saw of her, from a Christmas card sent to me when I was in high school, shows her at about 4, in a little plaid jumper.) She sneaks cigarettes and kisses boys. I feel as old as the wide green hills.
*Incidentally, she looked exactly like Karen Allen, that dark-haired actress in Scrooged and the first Indiana Jones movie. More like in Indiana Jones, young and laughing and sweet but maybe a little bit bad. She liked to smoke cigarettes on the weekends.
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