Read Online Are You Alone on Purpose? by Nancy Werlin - Free Book Online Page A

said.
    â€œDo you remember what she looked like?”
    â€œI have a picture.”
    â€œDo you remember her yourself?”
    Sometimes, he thought. Sometimes when I’m about to fall asleep at night. If I don’t try too hard. And that time at the supermarket, when I called, when that woman turned around, if it had really been her I would have known. I would have recognized her. I would have remembered what she looked like.
    But there were many Margarets to remember. The laughing one, before she got sick. Then the thin, tired one who held him too tightly and scared him with her talk of death. And then, finally, the one his father still talked to when he thought no one was listening.
    That one was not his mother. That one belonged only to his father. He hated that one.
    Dr. Jefferies had been silent, watching Harry’s face. He knew she was waiting for him to answer. He knew he couldn’t. He looked away from her. He looked down at his hands, at where they lay on his lap, on top of his useless legs. They’re ugly hands, he thought. Ugly legs.
    â€œDoes your father ever talk to you about your mother?” Dr. Jefferies asked.
    Harry looked at his watch. There were eons left of the fifty minutes. He looked at his hands again. He didn’t care what she did. He wouldn’t answer.
    Dr. Jefferies was tapping the pencil again, silently. “Your father never talks about your mother with you, does he?”
    He wouldn’t answer.
    â€œNod if that’s right, Harry. Just nod.”
    After a minute, Harry nodded.
    â€œDo you know why he doesn’t, Harry? Just shake your head yes or no. Do you know why he never talks about her with you?”
    Yes, Harry thought. He doesn’t need to talk to me. He talks to her. He stared at Dr. Jefferies. He said nothing.
    â€œDo you ever wish he would? Even once?”
    Harry swallowed. He kept his eyes on his hands. They were fists. Finally he nodded.
    â€œHave you ever asked him anything about her, Harry?”
    He shook his head. No.
    â€œWhy not? Did you think that he didn’t want to talk about her?”
    A nod. Yes.
    â€œYou didn’t talk about her because your father didn’t want to talk about her?”
    Yes.
    â€œDo you know why he didn’t?”
    No.
    â€œDo you talk with anyone about your mother?”
    No.
    â€œDoes your father?”
    Harry shrugged. He doubted it. He tried to take a deep breath. To relax his shoulders. His hands hurt from being clenched. He flexed his fingers.
    â€œYou don’t know?”
    â€œNo,” said Harry aloud. His voice sounded creaky. He cleared his throat. “No,” he said again. That was better. He wasn’t going to cry. He looked up at Dr. Jefferies. She was watching him steadily. He looked down again. He wasn’t going to cry. She had enough in her files about him.
    â€œDid you love your mother, Harry?”
    All the air left Harry’s lungs. He felt like Dr. Jefferies had just punched him in the stomach. He stared at her, speechless.
    â€œYou loved her, didn’t you?”
    He stared. If he kept his eyes wide he wouldn’t cry.
    â€œI know you did. Nod if I’m right. Just nod.”
    Harry looked down at his hands, but they were around his arms now, clutching tight. He hugged himself harder. He blinked rapidly.
    â€œJust nod.”
    If he could only get out of here. He closed his eyes. Please, he thought. Leave me alone. I thought we were supposed to talk about my legs. Let’s talk about that. Let’s talk about how I’ll never walk again. Hell. Let’s really go for it. Let’s talk about weird sex for cripples. Let’s talk about how I’ll never have a girlfriend, a life. Never get away from home. From him.
    â€œJust nod.”
    Harry nodded. He wasn’t even sure what he was agreeing to.
    Dr. Jefferies sighed. She leaned forward a little, toward Harry. “And you miss her, Harry?”
    He nodded again.