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Finally, John said, “I’ll go tell him to be quiet.” Though John was only four, he liked the baby a lot and was often wanting to talk to him and be around him. “Good,” their mother said, her voice so absent of life that it sent chills down Fox’s spine. “I’m going to go pick some flowers.”
“It was the baby that did it,” the one woman said. “Baby Shane. They should have seen the signs.” “They should have. Even I knew she wasn’t well. She should have never had that child, they were struggling with that ranch enough as it was,” said the other.
Gossip spreads like fire among old women, how disrespectful of these fake people in this fictitious world
But with the Nelsons, their loss was much greater than mine. My father never died. He just left. Of course I’ve dealt with abandonment issues growing up, but there was a time in my teens where he reached out to talk to me, tried to be a part of my life again and I said no. I didn’t need him. At least I didn’t at the time, fueled by teenage pride.
My birth mother never died either, just is a drug junkie and abandoned my brothers and I when I was 4. As selfish as it is, I wish she had died. She lived on the same tiny 7 mile Long Island as me for most of my life(until I got married and moved) but would turn the other direction if she saw me. My Dad got remarried to a woman who ended up adopting me and she’s filled the gaps in some ways but I think I’ll always grieve the person I could have been if my birth mom was normal.
The last thing I want is for the whole town to have something new to gossip about and I know it’s no longer the 1950’s where couples are punished for having children (or even sex) out of wedlock
Small towns are stuck in the 1950’s. My old pharmacist still talks about the time I dated a black guy in highschool(the horror)

