Oswald!” as I went through the mudroom and into the bright, big kitchen.Then I saw him.Oswald was sitting at the long trestle table, holding open a copy of the Journal of the American Medical Association, with a coffee mug in front of him. It was Saturday and he was dressed in a T-shirt that said You! Out of the Gene Pool and old jeans.He had been everything to me and seeing him here in this place broke my heart all over again. How could I have ever given him up?He looked up at me with his clear eyes, as gray as river stones, and the color drained from his already pale face.We stared at each other for long seconds. Finally he stood and said, “What are you doing here? You’ve got to leave.”“I need to talk to you.”“Sorry, but I can’t deal with your histrionics today. Or ever again.”Oswald took my elbow and began leading me out of the kitchen. His herb-scented sunblock brought back so many memories of us together.“Let me explain,” I said.“I see that you’ve finally decided to slim down, but there are healthier ways to do it than starving yourself.”“But everything’s gone horribly wrong.”He grabbed a baseball hat as we went through the mudroom.
