"It never happened."
"I haven't even said anything yet!"
"You're deluded."
"Okay . . . "
"You lie."
"I'm starting now!"
"You fantasize."
"My father never wanted a second child. At all, ever, period. Because of his career."
"You are manipulative."
"My mother knew this. After four years, she decided my wonder-brother, who could do no wrong, needed a companion. So she messed with the birth control. So gross."
"Who's putting you up to this?"
"He became very angry and told her that she would receive no help with this second, unwanted child. At all, ever, period. Because of his career."
"You brought it upon yourself. You are masochistic."
"But the joke was on her, because she wanted a girl!"
"You exaggerate."
"He told me this, over lunch, in May of 1982, in what was then a Colonial-themed Thai restaurant on the ground floor of the Park Plaza Hotel in Boston, Massachusett. A cold seven-minute walk from the Combat Zone."
"In any case, it is time to forget the past and move on.”
"What?!"
"I didn't say anything."
"How can you say such a thing?"
"I'm not going through this again."
"What do you mean?"
"All this -- denial. I'm done. I'm just going to say exactly what happened as I remember it."
"It never happened!"
"The reason I know it happened is that I renember it. I was eight years old. My brother was twelve years old. I was able to recover the date because I remember at some point in the week preceding the event, our father for some reason had told us, I'm going to be speaking at the Unitarian Church this Sunday at 11:00. It did not seem weird to me at the time, because he was always out of the house anyway. Plus all he used to when he was home was harangue me, so good."
"You lie."
"In fact, I remember thinking, it made sense that he would get something going on Sundays, because that was the only time he was ever even around anymore. Weekdays he was working, of course, and weeknights he was always at one of his many, many important community activities."
"You are delusional."
"Then, I found this article, and it all ...
"I have a thesis. My thesis is: In any woman's life, having children would have to be the most significant event. So, in my mother's story -- "
"Her family wasn't really any different from any of the other families."
"Yes."
"In what way?"
"She and her husband were both very active in community affairs. Both her children went to school."
"What else?"
"They were both boys?"
"Anything else?"
"No. That's it."
"So you said, that one way in which your mother's family wasn't really any different from any of the other families, was that she and her husband were both very active in community affairs. Can you tell me a little more about that?"
"Oh, sure. There was always something going on. Cub Scouts, she was like Den Mother of her older son's Cub Scout Pack. Pack 54. Plus the Comedy Club. Plus I'm pretty sure, she was involved in the kindergarten. She and her husband both. And politics. It was the Sixties."
"Just normal 60's Mom stuff."
"In any case, it's time to forget the past."
A Gift-Wrapped Copy of Penthouse Magazine
"My mother was not happy when family friends gave this to her husband as a birthday gift."
"In what way?"
"She walked out."
"Out of the party?"
"Yes."
"Where did she go?"
"She and her son walked down to the harbor to watch the fireworks. As they walked, her son said to her: I don't watch pornography. I don't even have a pornograph."
"Which . . . "
"Which is a totally normal thing to say."
"In a totally normal situation."
"Yes. She then said, Yes, that's old hat to you."
"Meaning . . . "
"Meaning nothing. It was just a random comment, that just happened to come up all by itself during the course of a totally normal conversation. For no reason. No reason at all."
"Good. Then what happened?"
"Nothing. Just normal stuff."
"So there were no consequences for anyone involved."
"Nobody was affected in any way. Ever."
"Well, It never happened. You're deluded. You lie."
"Yes. And in any case, it's time to forget the past and move on."
