Page 69 of Twice
I was stunned.
“What did you say, Dad?”
“I said they had to be lies. But apparently, your mom had shared all these details about the years after you were born. She’d said she’d suffered postpartum depression, that she’d become a terrible alcoholic, that I’d come to visit her in jail, and you had, too, and she felt really badly about that. She’d even run away from us for a stretch.
“I didn’t know what to tell this therapist, except that whoever Mom was talking about wasn’t the woman I was married to.”
He shook his head for several seconds, as if stuck staring at something that didn’t make sense. “It was crazy, Alfie.”
I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Dad.”
“I guess it’s only right that you know.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s OK.”
“But, Dad?”
He looked up.
“I need to tellyousomething.”
“All right.”
I put a hand on his shoulder. He glanced curiously at the gesture.
“Mom wasn’t lying. She had a gift. She was able to do things twice in her life. She could go back in time, redo events. All that stuff? It probably did happen, and then she undid it, which is why we don’t remember. You and I only remember the second version.”
My father snorted, then half smiled. “Are you trying to make me feel better with this silliness?”
“No,” I said. “I’m trying to tell you the truth. Because I guess she never could. She really did have that power.”
I paused. “And I have it, too.”
“To go back in time?”
“Yes.”
My father looked away. He started rocking back and forth nervously.
“Alfie,” he said softly, “are you OK? Your health?”
I squeezed his shoulder.
“I’m OK.”
“I think... maybe I didn’t do a very good job bringing you up.”
“That’s not true, Dad. You did great. You did everything you could. Why would you say that?”
“Because...”
“What?”
“Because you’re not well. You’re becoming delusional. Like she was.”
I dropped my head. Why had I told him? I felt like a cave dweller who finally ventures out into a blizzard, only to realize he was better off in the cave.
