It's Stephanie's birthday, Henry reminds me on his way out. "Have you called her yet" he asks, I lie and tell him I did. It's getting late now, I picture her sad and alone in bed, wondering if I remembered.
I always had friends growing up,
Stephanie didn't. On her twelfth birthday her father invited me to their
house, I was the only one there from outside the family. We spent the
afternoon in her room, trying on Italian designer clothes in her little
walk-in closet. "Dad would kill me if I wore something French" she said,
I promised him I'd take care of her, maybe she
still needs me to. If I call her I'll find out but I'm afraid of the
answer so instead I keep watching the hours passing me by.