be siblings.
For eight weeks I was a Research Associate in the Department of Epidemiology. Our team assessed pregnancy outcomes and infant bonding with substance abusing women. The number of women who were eligible for our program was overwhelming. My job was to interview the women in the obstetrical clinic during their first trimester and offer incentives to participate in our program. A major incentive was weekly urine screens and a positive recommendation to Child Welfare for all women who abstained from using drugs during their pregnancy. We also paid five dollars for completing each questionnaire and those who completed four questionnaires were given a fifty-dollar certificate to The Kid Store and a basket filled with layette items.
My workday was exhausting and I was glad Andrea was taking classes at the University of Pittsburgh over the summer. The obstetrical clinic was on the far side of campus and each evening Andrea and I met in front of the campus library to ride home together.
Alicia usually had dinner waiting and hurried us as we came in the door. We held hands to bless our food and discussed the Daily Devotional. Andrea said it was good to discuss positive things over dinner because complaining about the day only gave you indigestion. Spending time with my cousins made me wish I had sisters. I had never thought about that before and, in fact, had often wished I were an only child.
âHowâs your dad?â I asked one day after dinner.
âHe says he loves France. Itâs where he and my mother planned to live after he retired.â Alicia shrugged. âHe calls for birthdays and Christmas. We havenât seen him since we graduated from Hampton.â
âI keep praying for him,â Andrea said. âHeâs very misguided about who Jesus is. My dad thinks everyone is like Grandpa Tim.â
âI thought my dad was the only one who didnât get along with Grandpa Tim.â
âGirl, let me tell you,â Alicia piped in with excitement. âItâs a wild story, like a scene from a soap opera.â
âWhat?â She had my full attention.
âWell, let me start from the beginning.â Alicia sat up in her chair. Andrea sighed and began clearing the dinner dishes.
âNow this is the story my dad tells.â She rested her elbows on the table. âYour dad was the favorite grandchild and always wanted to be a preacher like our great-grandfather, William Allen. When your dad was about eighthe asked to go live with our great-grandparents and Grandpa Tim had a fit. After that, Grandpa Tim wouldnât let Grandma Rita take our dads and Uncle Matt to visit them anymore. Our great-grandfather died a year later of a massive heart attack and your dad blamed Grandpa Tim. Your dad grew up believing that our great-grandfather died of a broken heart because his only child, Grandpa Tim, was the prodigal son who had no interest in finding his way home.â Alicia sat back in her chair and took a deep breath. âGirl, ainât that a mess?â
âYeah,â I shook my head. âI had no idea.â
âGirl, thereâs more.â She smiled like she was about to tell a secret and yelled into the kitchen. âHey Annie, would you make some iced tea?â Alicia scooted her chair back a little. âGrandpa Tim hadnât spoken to his parents during the last ten years of his fatherâs life. He never went home after he graduated from college and the next time he saw our great-grandmother was the day of great-granddadâs funeral. Our great-grandmother, Louise Allen, never acknowledged Grandpa Tim except to deny his request to speak at his fatherâs funeral. Grandpa Tim was infuriated and refused to stay for the family dinner. Great-grandmotherâs final words to her son were, âLet the children stay. Theyâre here to mourn their loving grandfather â a good man.â Grandpa Tim turned to walk away and everyone
Learning to Kill: Stories