Nahum Truitt, just as he said. Never Bertha’s son. Only her first husband, from whom she’d gotten her name and from whom she’d gotten bowling. She’d stolen her first candlepin from him, her first bowling ball, then she’d broken his heart and left him for Leviticus Sprague. They had met in Sacco, Maine. They’d parted in Boothbay. She was a tyrant. She was a thief. He loved her yet. Years later he would die with these truths upon his lips. He loved everyone he had ever loved.
