Chapter 8
Clara became afraid of wine.
Not all drinks.
Red wine.
Whenever she saw my glass, she watched me.
One dinner I lifted water in a dark crystal glass.
She started crying.
That was when I understood what the adults had placed inside her.
Not knowledge.
Responsibility.
She believed she had saved me.
Therefore she might need to save me again.
I crouched.
“You don’t have to watch Daddy’s drinks.”
She sniffed.
“Bad wine?”
“Not anymore.”
“Aunt Katherine?”
“She made a bad choice.”
“You die?”
“No.”
“Promise?”
Dangerous word.
I could die someday.
Everyone does.
I said:
“I’m here tonight.”
She accepted that.
Children need truth sized correctly.
Not impossible guarantees.
Then I stopped drinking wine at family dinners for months.
Not from fear.
May you like
So she could stop monitoring me.
Eventually red became just a color again.
