17 Chapter 17

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My parents always called Jim Betty’s friend, right up until the day she got married to someone else. By then the two of us had an apartment together, and at the reception my mother introduced us as simply, “Henry and Jim.” Not friendor roommate, just Jim—in those days, no one felt compelled to define us further. My mother treated him like one of the family when we visited, and that was all I wanted. Let her believe we slept in separate bedrooms, if that’s what she needed to think to welcome him into her home.