Dear Lizzie and Mikey, Hello from Jackson Hole! I miss you both, but I’m having a wonderful time. Today we . . . Tomorrow we . . . Who cares? I wanted to scream. Who the hell cares? Did I want to know that she was happy? Did she care at all what a hell I was living in? I wanted to burn the letter but Mikey wouldn’t let me. “Come on,” he said, “it’s from Mom.” “So? She doesn’t give a shit about us.” “Yeah, but . . .” He dropped his eyes. “I miss her.” “I don’t.” “Yes you do.” “Mikey, how stupid are you? She left us here alone while she went off to have fun with her lover. How selfish is that? You think she cares about us at all?” “She said she cries sometimes because she misses us.” “I don’t believe that for a second. I think she’s screwing her brains out.” Mikey winced. “Here, keep it,” I said, throwing the letter at him and retreating to my room. Mikey knocked on my door. I let him in. “I want to write her back.”
