I remember one day in March. I think I was eleven. I don’t want to think of the year. I made my dad two pies on his birthday. I don’t remember how old he was. They were caramel apple pecan pies. We ate both right that day, the three of us. Jody peeled the apples for me because I was nervous around knives. I don’t have that problem anymore.
You know I wish I could tell you that it’s ok that you didn’t get into NYU. But I guess I would be lying if I said that to you tonight. Not tonight. No, tonight is terrible, tonight is broken glass and loud pillow-yelling and that’s how it is tonight. But the thing is that I can say those same words sometime, I can say ‘It’s okay that you didn’t get accepted to NYU’ and it will be true. I guess that’s all I can give you tonight.