What Is Left the Daughter

by Howard Norman

Given my absence, Marlais, I have few expectations, and may deserve fewer. But I won't bring loathsome sentiment into the bargain here, as I'm fully aware that my life has been all failure and delinquency toward my daughter, who deserved far better. But let me say this: I wish to see you and talk with you. My coming to Middle Economy, to the library or to your house, may not be quite the right thing, not just yet, if ever. I must tell you, however, I've consulted a road map and there's even possibilities on it, too. For instance, do you know what restaurant's still in business? The one overlooking the Tidal Bore in Truro, and we could meet there.

  Selfish, but at least directly put—I know you could be my anodyne, all three definitions, in fact. And while you may have no need of this whatsoever, might I not be an anodyne of some sort—any sort—for you as well, Marlais?

  Is In a German Pension still on the shelf there? Before returning it weeks and weeks overdue, Tilda Hillyer, against all library etiquette, underlined the sentences that moved her most deeply in each story. I had this thought, that you might locate the collection and page through it, so you can know which sentences.