Maybe he is fortunate. At least he has been spared the confrontation of brother against brother.
I return to Mary’s bedroom.
I offer coffee. She declines.
Robert came and knelt by her. He will go back to Harvard next week. Tad lay asleep at the foot of Mary’s bed. Sometimes, when the four of us are in the bedroom I feel that grief is fourfold.
I retreated.
Jip comes.
August
After Willie’s death I received a warm and understanding letter from Billy Herndon, my Billy. Each word weighed carefully.
Through the years he was much more patient than I; when I read aloud, back in the back of the office, he overlooked the nuisance. He tolerated my kids when they burst in on me. They sometimes wrecked havoc. He never brought his kids, never permitted them to come to the office...or if he did, they were no problem.