Outside

1978 was a year of firsts for me. I lost my first tooth; I biked by myself for the first time; and I became an older sister for the first time. And I was just six years old!

It was also the first time I saw my mommy and daddy fight. I don't remember what they were arguing over. I rocked baby Valerie, who was crying in my arms, and tried shushing her. Mommy finally burst through the door, her cheeks glistening with tears, and grabbed Valerie from me. When daddy came in the room she hid me with her body.

"C'mon, kiddo," he called to me. "Take a walk with me. There's juice at the temple for all the kids."

"Henry-"

"Deborah…"

Valerie let out a cry.

"I hate juice. I like milk. And I want to stay with Val," I peeked out at daddy behind mommy's leg. He took a long look at us before leaving, slamming the door behind him. I never saw him, or the other kids, again. And I didn't learn until later why he wanted me to take that walk with him.

I never did like grape juice.