My Mom inherited our house from our Grandma, otherwise they never could have afforded it, not even twenty years ago. “Good-bye, John,” she said simply. She had been fighting down this thought for days: that Hoddy did not care, that he did not love her, that he had mistaken a vagary of the mind for a substance, and now regretted what he had done— married a girl who was not his equal in anything. She fell into a deep delirium, whispering hoarsely to her dead mother, cursing God in Heaven, cursing her doctor, cursing herself as apparitions of devils and demons pulled at her with yellow ochre hands. A stack of chimneys, on the house above them, had yielded to the storm, and descended in a shower of bricks and stones. Since Mary predeceased Jarvis, Nicholas could scarcely argue himself to be my brother’s next of kin. Mike had suffered severe depression in his first years with the Becks, but had grown to think of them as his natural family to the degree that his past seemed like a distant memory.
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