One night late, the Maundy Thursday before that Easter, I woke to the doorbell ringing, and I

rushed downstairs in my robe. A beautiful girl stood in the doorway looking like her mother. My
heart pounded.
A - "Daddy?" "Mommy's dead."
B - "Poor child,". My wife knows nothing about you or your mother and she’ll be very upset
when she found out. So I beg you just check into a motel and I promise to see you in the
morning.
A – Alright only if you promise.
B – Thank you, don’t worry about it. "Good God," "I don't know your name."
A - "Emily,"
I left a note saying I'd be home late, not to worry, and sped to the motel.
B – Please tell me what happened to both of you.
A - You know it’s a long story. For Fourteen years my mom (Debbie) had sacrificed herself to
her dream of becoming a Broadway actress. She was taking classes all day and rehearsing lead
roles in amateur theater companies all night, and of course she dragged me with her everywhere.
B – I have no doubts that she will never betray her old dream. Enthusiastic just as when I met her
for the first time.
A – Yep. After five years, when grandpa’s money ran out, mom began working nights as an
exotic dancer, and we both took acting classes all day. For the next seven years mother pursued
her dream day and night, and we were all very happy.
B – Sounds not that bad. But tell me what happened to her. How did she die?
A - last year, she'd met a film director at a party who shot romantic, soft core pornography, and
she'd jumped at the chance to make some big money fast. She probably started her cocaine habit
then during the shootings to make them bearable. One night last week she hadn't come home.
Overdose.
B- Listen, I’m very sorry for what happened to your mother and for what you had experienced.
That sounds really terrible. And I hope some day you’ll forgive me for not been a part of your
life.
Breaking the long silence that followed,
A - "It's your fault,"