She hasn't forgotten the bruises or the marks, of course. Her eyes catch on them occasionally as she looks at him, not staring, not horrified or shocked, but still concerned.
There's time. She listens to him talk about his aunties and his cousins, about Teresa and his wild grandmother, about the things in between the lines - not belonging to the tribe really, being drunk more often than she wasn't - and she picks the meat out of the pie filling to eat first.
"We had horses, back home. A few. I'd been around them some before, back in Dallas, but never really ridden or driven them. I liked it, though, once I learned." And of course she learned.
"I'm glad you had them. The aunties, the tribe. I had a big family I was related to, and I knew who most of them were, they knew who I was, but I wasn't really close to any of them."
no subject
There's time. She listens to him talk about his aunties and his cousins, about Teresa and his wild grandmother, about the things in between the lines - not belonging to the tribe really, being drunk more often than she wasn't - and she picks the meat out of the pie filling to eat first.
"We had horses, back home. A few. I'd been around them some before, back in Dallas, but never really ridden or driven them. I liked it, though, once I learned." And of course she learned.
"I'm glad you had them. The aunties, the tribe. I had a big family I was related to, and I knew who most of them were, they knew who I was, but I wasn't really close to any of them."