The Last Original Wife Read Online Free PDF

leaving?”
    â€œMy son totally gets it, but then he’s basically run as far from Atlanta as he can. My daughter, Charlotte, was surely irked and inconvenienced.”
    â€œHow is that?”
    â€œWell, she viewed me as her babysitter. Basically, she just dropped my granddaughter off with me whenever the mood struck. She’s a real estate broker and when someone calls she has to go to work.”
    â€œSounds to me like you may have been the one who was inconvenienced.”
    â€œNo, not really. I adore my little granddaughter, Holly. She’s very easy to make a priority over everything else in my life. But it’s not right, you know? She’s as pretty as a little girl could be, with curly blond ringlets and eyes so big and clear blue you could swim in them. And she’s so sweet! No, Holly is the greatest joy I’ve known in years!” We were both quiet then, and I was feeling a bit wistful. “I love to read to her, and we love to do all sorts of things together.”
    I was remembering having Holly for an afternoon last spring, one when we decided to walk around the yard to see what we could find. What a marvel it was to see the world through the eyes of a three-year-old little girl. Every single thing was fascinating to her. We got down on our knees and followed a fat worm crawling through the grass and she giggled the music of tiny, high-pitched wind chimes. When I imitated the worm and his wiggle, Holly wiggled too, and we both dissolved into laughter. In the next minute, she pushed her little nose into my roses and was absolutely stunned by the sweet smell of them as though she had never smelled a flower. Oh! she said and inhaled deeply again. She peeled a handful of the petals from a thick bloom fallen to the ground and rubbed them in between her chubby little fingers. Soft! she said and rubbed them against her cheek. I could see her in my mind’s eye. I must’ve been smiling then because I lifted my head to see Dr. Katz was smiling too.
    â€œWhat other kinds of things do you do with her?”
    â€œOh, everything in the world! We make cookies, we read books, we play dress-up . . . you know, we play simple games like peekaboo and sometimes we color or make things with clay, like little animals. I feel so badly for my daughter.”
    â€œAnd why is that?”
    â€œBecause of all she’s missing! No matter what I say to her, I cannot make her see all the happiness there is to be gained by having a little girl of her own to love. She doesn’t seem to be able to relate except in the most basic ways. To children, I mean. I know she loves Holly, after all she’s her own flesh and blood, but I think she sees her as, God forgive me, a burden she’d rather not have. She’s the one who ought to be in this chair. Not me.”
    â€œI see. And Holly’s father?”
    â€œOh, him? He’s gone with the wind. And I thought he was such a nice young man—shows you what I know. Brad was his name. He always dressed so nicely and was so sweet to me. Who knows what goes on between the ears of young men today? In my day there would’ve been a hurry-up wedding and maybe a divorce later on, but at least the child would have a name and a chance at having two parents.”
    â€œDo you think that’s a better idea?”
    â€œYes! Because maybe, just maybe, they’d face reality together and then find the courage to rise to the occasion. Doesn’t a child need a father? Think she’ll have abandonment issues when she grows up? Besides, why should this fellow get off the hook scot-free? No child support? Not even slightly interested in visitation? I mean, Dr. Katz, don’t you think it’s morally wrong to bring a child into this world and then walk away like a tomcat?”
    â€œPersonally, I agree, but professionally? I’m not supposed to voice my opinion.”
    For someone who wasn’t supposed to have