couldn't

seem　to　break　in；　and　it　wasn't　long　before　they　were　bickering　so　badly　that　it　was　almost

like　I　wasn't　there。

Then　in　the　back　of　my　mind；　it　clicked。　Everything　clicked。　It　was　my　dad's　brother　they　were

talking　about。　My　uncle。　David。

To　me　Uncle　David　was　only　a　name。　Someone　my　parents　had　explained　to　me；　but　not

someone　I'd　ever　actually　met。　And　even　though　I　knew

my　dad　visited　him；　I　never　knew　exactly　when。　He　never　talked　about　it。

Dad　also　thought　we　shouldn't　talk　about　Uncle　David　to　others　because　David　was　retarded。

“People　jump　to　conclusions；”　he'd　told　me。　“They

assume　that；　by　association；　something　must　also　be　wrong　with　you。　Trust　me；　I　know。”

So　we　didn't　talk　about　it。　Not　at　home；　not　with　friends。　It　was　almost　like　there　was　no　Uncle

David。

Until　now。　Now　he　felt　larger　than　life；　and　I　could　tell　from　their　argument　that　he　was　the

reason　we　didn't　have　our　own　house；　he　was　the　reason

we　didn't　have　nice　cars　or　fancy　things。　He　was　the　reason　there　always　seemed　to　be　a

cloud　of　weariness　hanging　over　my　parents。

Why　did　I　have　to　bring　up　the　yard　in　the　first　place？　I'd　never　seen　my　parents　fight　like　this。

Ever。　I　wanted　to　grab　them　and　say；　Stop　it！　Stop　it！

You　love　each　other！　You　do！　But　I　just　sat　there　with　tears　streaming　down　my　face。

My　mother　stopped　suddenly　and　whispered；　“We　should　not　be　doing　this　in　front　of　her！”

“I'm　sorry；　Julianna；”　my　dad　said；　then　reached　over　and　held　my　forearm。　“Don't　cry。　None

of　this　is　your　fault。　We'll　work　it　out；　I　promise　we　will。”

My　mother　tried　to　laugh　through　her　tears；　saying；　“We　always　have；　and　we　always　wi