The Truth According to Ginny Moon Benjamin Ludwig (books to read in your 30s .txt) 📖

shining at us. It is trying to burn through the walls with big laser beams.

“It’s a car,” says Uncle Will.

“What color is it?”

“How the hell should I know? It’s pitch-dark, and there are lights shining in my face.”

Uncle Will looks out the window again. “White, I think.”

Then there’s a knock at the door.

My Forever Dad opens it. It is a pizza man. I know because he is carrying a pizza. And I know exactly what kind it is because I can smell it. “Can I help you?” my Forever Dad says.

“I’m here to deliver a pizza,” the pizza deliveryman says.

“I’m sorry, but we didn’t order one.”

“It’s for Ginny,” says the pizza deliveryman. “And it’s already paid for.”

“Excuse me?” says my Forever Dad.

“The pizza is for someone named Ginny,” the pizza deliveryman says. He takes out a piece of paper and gives it to my Forever Dad. My Forever Dad looks at it and crumples it up and puts it in his pocket. “Even the tip is included,” the pizza deliveryman says.

Then the pizza deliveryman gives the pizza to my Forever Dad and says, “Happy New Year,” and walks away.

My Forever Dad shuts the door. Everyone is looking at him. The pizza is bacon and onion. It is my favorite. It smells good.

So I say, “Can I have it, please?”

And my Forever Mom says, “Ginny, your dad and I need to talk.”

So I say, “I’m okay with that. I’ll start eating the pizza while you talk.”

“No,” my Forever Dad says to me.

So I say, “Why not?” Even though his voice is an angry voice.

Then Rick says, “Yeah. Why not?” but no one listens to him.

My Forever Dad looks at my Forever Mom. My Forever Mom looks back at him. “Well, I don’t know what the hell to do,” she says.

“It’s food,” says my Forever Dad. “We can’t just throw it away.”

“We can’t just accept it, either.”

“Again, why not?” says Rick a lot louder.

This time everyone looks at him.

“Because Gloria isn’t allowed to see Ginny,” my Forever Dad says.

Rick puts his drink down. The glass makes a loud clink. “She isn’t seeing her,” he says. “She’s just trying to do something nice for her daughter. What’s wrong with that?”

“If you give that woman an inch...” says my Forever Mom.

“Then what?” says Rick. “She’ll violate a restraining order and get herself arrested? Come on.”

“She’s completely unpredictable,” my Forever Dad says.

“Unreliable,” I say. “Can I have my pizza?”

“Look, I just think you folks are way too uptight about some things,” says Rick.

“I think my friend Rick here has had a little too much to drink,” says Granddad. He puts his arm around Rick’s shoulders.

Rick sways. He smiles at Granddad. “Maybe. Maybe,” he says. “But still—”

“Rick,” says my Forever Dad.

“—you can’t keep people separated. Eventually the situation will just explode in your face. You know, ka-boom.”

My Forever Mom looks like she’s going to yell. Then my Forever Dad says, “Rick, please, let us handle this.” Then he turns to my Forever Mom. “The damage is done. The pizza is in the house.”

So I ask, “Can I please have it?” because it’s a rule that you have to say please when you ask for something.

“Not now, Ginny,” my Forever Mom says.

“But it has my name on it,” I say and point to the box. Everyone looks. It says G-I-N-N-Y all in capital letters on the side. In black magic marker.

“Son of a bitch,” my Forever Dad says and he puts the pizza down on the table. It makes a loud noise. “Go ahead. Eat it.”

So I open the pizza. I am so excited my hands are shaking. I count the pieces out loud. “One, two, three, four—”

“There are eight pieces!” my Forever Mom says to me. “All pizzas always have exactly eight pieces in them. You don’t have to count!”

But I have to make sure so I start counting again.

“Do it in your head!” she says so I finish in my brain. She is right. And I know the pizza is from Gloria. I’m guessing she thinks she is the smartest cookie ever. She is still trying to break through the walls of Forever. She is telling me again that she won’t give up even though everyone says she isn’t coming back. You are wrong, wrong, wrong, she is telling them, and this bacon-and-onion pizza proves it. But I know if she breaks through and kidnaps me she will get caught. The police will catch her and take her to jail.

I look at Rick. He is leaning against the bookcase and holding his glass again. I have to talk with him about going up to Canada. If Gloria keeps trying to break through Forever I can’t wait for the respite. I have to talk with him tonight.

“This isn’t a violation of the restraining order, is it?” my Forever Mom says.

“I don’t think so.”

“And what about this? We can’t let her eat the whole thing. It’s eight whole pieces of frigging pizza. She already gorged herself on Chinese.”

I don’t say anything because my mouth is full. Plus it sounds like they might take it away. I start eating faster.

“Ginny, slow down,” my Forever Dad says. “No one is going to take your food. Only have one piece tonight. You can eat some more for breakfast tomorrow.”

Pizza is not a breakfast food but I don’t want them to say I can’t have it for breakfast so I say, “And lunch?”

“And lunch.”

“And supper?”

“Sure. Supper, too,” he says.

“What the hell are we supposed to do?” my Forever Mom says. “Call the police and say we’d like to report a delivered pizza?”

“It’s a form of harassment,” says Uncle Will.

“That’s probably debatable,” says Granddad.

“Damn right, it’s debatable,” says Rick. “If it were me—”

“It’s not you,” says my Forever Dad.

“Right. But it will be someday. That’s what the two of you said, isn’t it? And I’ll tell you what I’m going to do when it happens. I’m going to set up visitations.”

I stop chewing. No one says anything.

“That’s right,” says Rick. “Vi-si-fuck-ing-ta-tions. Try