Joe, my foster dad, was a heroin and booze addict. Ruth loved him. “The fact is—I don’t know why—this takes me by surprise. She paused. Her hair got loose, her hat came over one eye, and she had no arm free to replace it. “Mom, this is the girl I asked to Prom, Lucy. Someone ought to be with him until the doctor arrives. ‘Nothing of the sort,’ argued Gerald.
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