I already knew about the long line of boys and the fact that my dad could have been any one of them. But I had secretly hoped Mom might have said that to protect me, and really she knew. I hoped Ginger would know, that Mom had confessed it to her, and now I’d get my big reveal. There are too many big black holes in my life, and I’m starting to see it’s because Mom chose to keep it that way. I don’t get it. I don’t get why everything has to be so hard.

I glance at Ginger. She’s staring into the water, and her hair’s blowing a little in the breeze. She looks different after her talk with Melissa. Like she’s found her regular setting and isn’t so jumpy around me. And if she’s anything like Mom, I bet she knows more than she’s letting on.

“Do you still have that postcard from Little Rock?”

“Oh sure. And a few from Memphis and Lexington that your mom sent before you all moved west.” She straightens up. “Want to see them sometime?”

That surprises me. She’s actually going to let me see them. Mom would have hidden them or burned them on sight. She isn’t one for mementos or anything that makes you remember, really.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

As we make our way back out of the trees and into the backyard, I do the math I always have to do when I count through all the places we’ve lived. I was only five when we left Lexington. Why did Mom stop writing after? Why send all those postcards before that and then just… nothing? Why didn’t we visit? If she wanted me to “make it big,” why not come to the music capital of the world? It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes sense.

I slip off my shoes at the back door and say bye to Ginger before going upstairs. Gilligan’s Island was that show about the people who got shipwrecked on an island. There were always old reruns in the motels where we stayed. Their little boat ride was only supposed to be a three-hour trip before the storm sent them spinning. Then they were castaways. Away from home for years and years.

7 Get Well Soon