The Amateur Marriage
The Amateur Marriage
“Heidi’s Grandfather Michael had one childhood memory that wouldn’t go away.
He was walking down Boston Street with his mother and his brother. He was probably about eight years old, which meant that Danny would have been twelve. They were shopping for something, but he couldn’t remember now what—some household necessity or other. It was an errand that made him feel tired and cross even before they reached whatever store they were heading for, and he lagged farther and farther behind, squinting ...under the blaze of the sun, wrinkling his nose against the disgusting smell of hot tomatoes from the cannery. “Pick up your feet,” his mother told him, and all at once, Danny crumpled to the sidewalk. Michael started laughing. He assumed that Danny—the family comic—was teasing their humorless mother by picking up both feet and therefore toppling over. “Hee-hee!” he said, covering his mouth with one hand, but then he saw Danny’s face and he took a sharp step backward.
“Danny?”MoreLess
He was walking down Boston Street with his mother and his brother. He was probably about eight years old, which meant that Danny would have been twelve. They were shopping for something, but he couldn’t remember now what—some household necessity or other. It was an errand that made him feel tired and cross even before they reached whatever store they were heading for, and he lagged farther and farther behind, squinting ...under the blaze of the sun, wrinkling his nose against the disgusting smell of hot tomatoes from the cannery. “Pick up your feet,” his mother told him, and all at once, Danny crumpled to the sidewalk. Michael started laughing. He assumed that Danny—the family comic—was teasing their humorless mother by picking up both feet and therefore toppling over. “Hee-hee!” he said, covering his mouth with one hand, but then he saw Danny’s face and he took a sharp step backward.
“Danny?”MoreLess
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