Dear Marc,
Thanks for finally answering my last letter. I know you well enough to attribute your slow response to mere laziness, but if you aren’t careful, I’ll start to think you don’t miss me.
I’m glad things are coming together for you. It does sound nice there, much nicer than here anyway. Your friends, Garrett and Tim sound like people I’d like to actually meet sometime, and you know what?
That isn’t entirely out of the question.
Yes! You heard right. Sit down sonny, because I got some news.
Gramp’s lawyers finally tracked down my father. No kidding! They found him in California just last week. And get this: the S.O.B is stinking rich! He owns some construction company out there that builds fancy houses for movie stars and whatnot. All those years that Mama and I were struggling to survive and he’s rolling in dough!
And it gets worse. He’s married and had a whole other family including two boys aged nine and six. You do the math.
See, he never bothered to divorce Mama. Get my drift?
Gramp’s lawyers had a little talk with him, and pointed out a few ways that they could be helpful.
One: They could not bother to tell his wife that he was still married to Mama on their wedding day, and how that’s called bigamy, and bigamy is considered a felony in most states. And…
Two: They could do something about that court order they’d just gotten that had tied up everything he owned in litigation until he paid up for nine years of missing child support for yours truly.
Gramp’s lawyers said that my loving father’s first inclination was to throw them out of his office, but then after his lawyers pointed out that he could be tied up in legal proceedings for months, even years while his business went belly-up…well I guess Dad decided it was time to do right by his long lost daughter. (Especially if he could still keep everything a secret from his wife.)
My daddy, what a guy, huh?
So here’s the deal: My loving father has agreed to pay full tuition for me to go to college. And, get this, he’s also paying for me to finish out high school at a prestigious New England boarding school!
Amy LaBlob, a preppy! Imagine that!
I’ll be living with Aunt Sylvia, in Boston, and, look at your map love, by my calculations we’ll be separated by a mere fifteen miles as the crow flies.
And, I can’t help but notice, we’re both but a short train ride away from New York City…