“We’re going to have to invent a new category, aren’t we, Ruthie?” This is her apology. “What are some of your common categories?” Teddy asks, like he is not dealing with a strange person. “Maybe I can tell you which one I fit into.” Renata begins ticking off on her fingers. “Country Bumpkin. Little Boy Lost. Too Dumb to Live. Fake Grandson—they’re the ones hoping to inherit.” Aggie adds, “Environmental Man—no deodorant.” “I wear deodorant.” “Another point to Teddy. I think sometimes I still get a whiff of Matthew,” Aggie says. “And it’s been years.” I try to join in. “Tortured Artist?” If
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