Diane Winger > Quotes

“I move in slow motion to roll out of bed, arrange clothing under the covers, and silently remove the screen from my window. Smoothly and soundlessly, I slip out and lower myself to the ground, reaching high above my head to replace the screen. I crouch and skim across the lawn to the street, moving quickly from tree shadow to tree shadow until I reach his car, the passenger door already open and waiting. “Ready?” Steve asks as we synchronize the closing of the door with the starting of the engine. Within moments, we’re on our way to our favorite spot. “You’re awfully quiet tonight, baby.” He parks the car and we both peer out at the lights of the town displayed below us. “Your father get after you again?” It’s a peculiar way to word it, but even my father won’t use words like beat or hit to describe his actions. He’ll use a quote like, “Spare the rod, spoil the child.” Or declare that he is saving my soul. But my silence tonight isn’t about my father’s form of discipline, nor my mother’s sharp tongue. I take a long, slow breath before speaking the words that I’ve rehearsed for over a month. “I’m pregnant.” My voice comes out soft and raspy.”
― Diane Winger, The Abandoned Girl

“Paulette told me she thinks Sylvia isn’t hooking any more, and I finally figured out what that means. I’ve also learned why several of my housemates have perpetual runny, and sometimes bloody noses. Paul demonstrated how he arranges the white powder on a mirror laid on the kitchen table, but I declined his invitation to try it out. Too scary.”
― Diane Winger, The Abandoned Girl

“Mom promised she’d buy groceries today, but it looks like we’re out of luck. Again. I’ll worry about dinner later. Annie ate most of her giant slice of pizza plus a cookie, so she’ll probably be fine for another hour or so. I plop onto our sagging couch, replaying the scene from this afternoon in my mind one more time. “Robin,” my mother said as she pressed a bill into my hand, “take your sister to the mall. This should cover the bus ride and lunch at the food court.” A million questions popped into my head, but I was speechless at this unprecedented gift. I forced myself to close my gaping mouth. “I’ll be out late, kiddo. Take care of supper.” Placated by her familiar words, I nodded. When she says she’ll be out late, that can mean she’ll arrive home shortly after the bars close, or sneak in just in time for breakfast.”
― Diane Winger, The Abandoned Girl

“My thoughts are interrupted by the airplane lady again. “We’ll be landing soon, girls. I’ll stay with you as we get off the plane and we’ll meet up with your grandparents. It won’t be long now! I’ll bet you’re excited to tell them all about your first plane ride.” I wrap an arm around Annie, who is staring at the woman with a look of horror in her eyes. “It’s okay,” I whisper. “We’re together and I’ll take care of you.” I wonder who’s going to take care of me.”
― Diane Winger, The Abandoned Girl

“I gasp when I realize that her small suitcase is gone. The big, beat-up one is still shoved to the back of the closet, but the little one is nowhere to be found. It’s hard to swallow. Did she pack a suitcase after sending us out? Where was she going? Why didn’t she say anything? “I’ll be out late, kiddo. Take care of supper.” I replay her words, trying to remember exactly how she spoke, the expression on her face. I was so startled by her generosity of giving me money for the mall that I didn’t think about what else seemed off two days ago.”
― Diane Winger, The Abandoned Girl

“Since she started dating “Uncle” Roger, she’s often not returned home until late morning on weekends. During the week, she’ll sometimes just call when she gets to work around 8:30. Today’s Saturday, so I figure she’ll show up in time for lunch. Hopefully, with some groceries.”
― Diane Winger, The Abandoned Girl

“It’s been just three weeks since I last saw my mother, but it feels much longer. Annie must have said something to Mrs. Barolo when she went to play with Alice, because she was there at our door with the police Monday morning. They took us up to the Barolo’s apartment and fixed up a place for us to sleep there. There was a lady named Dorothy from “Family Services” who took me back to our apartment where she asked me a lot of questions while a policewoman hung close by. “Did your Mom stay out overnight very often?” I felt wary. What if I was wrong, and my mother really was coming back? If I got her in trouble, would they take her away from us? How did Dorothy already know that Mom didn’t come home every night? I shrugged. “Maybe a couple of times,” I lied.”
― Diane Winger, The Abandoned Girl

“There’s no scientific basis for it.” He’d go on about climate and exposure to sunlight and the beginning of agriculture and diet and all sorts of factors, but she was fascinated at the concept that so-called white people were simply descended from people whose environment left them with a need to absorb more vitamin D from the sun.”
― Diane Winger, The Daughters' Baggage

“No, but it is necessary so we can live. It is the people who do not know this, who think every day about the bad things in their life, who turn bitter and cruel. It is like they are already dead, they are so cold and filled with hate. Like the fundamentalists. So much hate,” she said, shaking her head. “Faraz and I, we do not want to become like those people. We wish to be alive.”
― Diane Winger, The Daughters' Baggage

“I remind myself that I have the choice of immersing myself in negative flashbacks or setting them aside, knowing that I’ve already given them more attention than they deserve.”
― Diane Winger, Ellie Dwyer's Great Escape

“Looking back along my morning’s route, I can see the trail roller-coasting past estuaries and inlets, snaking its way along the meandering coastline.”
― Diane Winger, The Long Path Home

“Examining myself in the restroom mirrors, I decide I’ve achieved a look that fits my new image of myself. Mrs. Steven Gwinn, movie star. Ready to knock Steve’s socks off, I exit the ladies room and head toward our booth. I’m disappointed to discover that he’s not there. I look around for him as I settle back in my seat, wondering if he’s headed back to the car or might be picking up something for us in the convenience store that fills the other half of this building. In the middle of our table sits a neat pile of money topped by our tab and held in place with a salt shaker. I finger my purse sitting beside me, slightly irked that Steve would leave it sitting here unattended, but realizing there’s so little cash in it that it wouldn’t really matter if it were stolen. I wonder what his other little present might be.”
― Diane Winger, The Abandoned Girl

“Do you know where he went?” She licks her lips and lets out a long breath. “Hon, I think he’s gone and left you here. When you were in the little girl’s room, he headed out the door and right after I heard a car go squealing out of here. I’m sorry.” I stare at her like she’s grown a second head. “Gone?” I choke out. I let my bag and purse drop to the floor with a thump as I turn to stare out at the parking lot. “Hon, how old are you? You look like you’re just a child. Is there someone you can call?” My mind races, but there’s no one.”
― Diane Winger, The Abandoned Girl

“Like I’ve said, prejudice means pre-judging. Making assumptions without taking the time to learn. Ignorance is the cause and ignorance can be overcome with knowledge.”
― Diane Winger, The Daughters' Baggage

“Well, I think when you love someone, you want them to be happy. You feel like protecting them from things that might hurt them or make them sad. You feel joy with their successes and try to build them up when they fail. Even if there are things about them that aren’t perfect in your mind, you still love them exactly as they are.”
― Diane Winger, Ellie Dwyer's Disappearing Act

“I blinked rapidly, trying not to cry. “Will we still stay here with Mr. and Mrs. Barolo?” I choked out. He cleared his voice. “Oh, no, sweetie. We couldn’t ask them to do that any longer than they’ve helped already. No, no – you’ll be with family. We’re going to put you on a plane tomorrow and fly you out to live with my folks. You’ll be with your Grandma and Grandpa.” The tears I had been fighting to hold back won the battle. “But we don’t even know them. You said we went to see them once when I was really little, but I don’t remember. Anyway, you told me your father was mean and used to hit you all the time!” I clutched the phone tight in my fist, horrified at this news. My father let out a long sigh. “Well, he was mean to me sometimes, but I was a boy. He would never hit you. He never laid a hand on your Aunt Sophie or on my mother.”
― Diane Winger, The Abandoned Girl

“We’re all just a range of shades of brown, sometimes with a little bit of other colors mixed in, like pink and red. But people are funny about stuff like that. We all share the same ancestors, if you go back enough generations. We all come from Africa.”
― Diane Winger, The Daughters' Baggage