Even on the nights that Heather was home, we often ended up down in the basement suite hanging out with Rick. It was cool to slack off a bit, don't get me wrong. He had comfortable furniture and some seriously nice entertainment hardware. Every once in a while, it's kinda nice to zone out with a beer or two and watch a movie, or play some video games. I just couldn't live like that long-term. Besides, I was getting impatient for a little one-on-one time with Heather."Don't worry, " Heather whispered in my ear one night, after Rick had dozed off on the sofa beside us. " It won't always be like this."I wished I could trust her on that, but before I had much time to argue, she was kissing me softly, and then she led me upstairs, and everything was right in the world again.I seriously tried to make the best of it, but time alone with Heather was getting less and less frequent. More often, I ended up alone upstairs for the night, or even headed downstairs to hang out by myself with Rick.. “I know, who could forget that?” she said through her smooshed cheek resting on the top. “I really wish it could have been different between us.”I got up from my seat and went around to her, putting my hands on her shoulders, trying to absorb some of the grief she felt, but I didn’t have to. I knew what she was feeling.“I remember when we were kids and you, me and Dad...”She abruptly sat up straight and looked at me squarely. “You called him Dad. You never call him that.”“I didn’t always call him Stan, you know. Anyway, I remember when you, me and Stan were walking down Seventy-Seventh Street from Central Park West. We were next to the New York Historical Society, and for some reason that I can’t remember, he started yelling at you and cursing. You know how he used to do it,” I took a couple of steps and put my arms out in mocking exasperation. “He just stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and got that incredibly disturbed look on his face and screamed, ÔShit Marlo!’ Then he grabbed.
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