To Sir, With Love
Puck,
How do I put this into words that will stay in your head, despite all the booze that you'll be drinking that your Sugar Mama shoves at you outside the 7Eleven on 31st? How can I ever tell you thank you enough? You gave up your dream of keeping Beth so that I could live out my life in stride, knowing thinking it was for the best? You exchanged your dreams for mine, and that's where I find the problem.
When I was seven, my Mom gave me a diamond necklace. It had a real diamond plunged right in the middle. It was my favorite Easter gift I'd ever gotten. Ever. I wore it the entire morning of Easter. I stared at myself in the mirror while I dressed myself. My eyes belonged to that one diamond. But when I proceeded downstairs to get in the car, my parents were arguing in the kitchen. I heard "She's old enough!" and "It's one diamond, Russ!" and also the infamous "Jude, I will not have my daughter parading around like some kind of heiress!" Needless to say I didn't get to wear the necklace to Sunday School. Even if Emily Reed had one just like it.
My dad never returned the necklace, Puck. He never mentioned it ever again. You know how on Sunday, my parents met up for brunch at the Country Club to discuss the divorce? I tagged along to spend time with my mother. My father had the fucking nerve to tote his mistress to the meal as well. And on her neck, was the necklace I was supposed to wear on Easter Morning, to Sunday School nine years ago.
Puck, I typed that story to show you that I know how you feel. I know how you felt Sunday Night two weeks ago, when we handed her off to Shelby, and I know how you felt when she brought Ms. Sylvester the Regionals paperwork Thursday morning, and how she rolled paraded Beth Corcoran around in the newborn stroller. I saw you face as you walked past the office on the way to rehearsals. And I'm so very sorry that you ever had to feel that way…ever. The feeling sucks.
To Sir, With Love,
HAPPY FATHER'S DAY
Quinn. 3