The fighting got worse, and then, after lots of adult whispers behind turned backs, my parents were gone for a while, replaced by a very stern and unpleasant white-uniformed-with-cap nurse. I don’t think she ever smiled, and I can still see her standing there, hands clasped primly in front. Having her there was unnerving. Not knowing where my parents were, more unnerving yet. Not knowing what in the world was going on was the most unnerving of all. My parents came home after a while. Nobody ever told us where they had gone. All we knew was that we were ordered to never speak the name Marge Goodwin again. Ever. Continued adult whispers behind turned backs, but it later became clear to me that Marge and my father had been having an affair. Marge was being sued for divorce and my father was named in the divorce papers as co-respondent. I didn’t even know what any of that meant at the time.
The fighting got worse and worse. I have visions of my mother, hunched over, wielding an iron skillet. She would go into total rages at the smallest of things.
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