“Her name was Lucy,” he began. “We were both working at the county fair the summer I graduated from high school. She was older than me by a couple three years. She sold tickets and I ran the ferris wheel six nights a week. It was a crazy time, Judith, and well… A lot can happen in a very short time sometimes. Four months after we met, Lucy and I were married—”
I sat up, flustered. “You don’t have to tell me anymore,” I said. I had thought I wanted to know this part of Horace’s life. If for no other reason than to be able to prove Dorothy wrong. The truth didn’t have to hurt. But from the tidal wave of emotion percolating inside me, I knew I was wrong. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted simultaneously to cry, run away and be held. Running away seemed like the best choice. I stuffed the picnic leftovers into my rucksack and stood, throwing the rucksack over my shoulders.
“Wait.” He took my hands in his. “We had to get married, Judith. She was in the family way.”