*I’ve lurked and read stories here for years. Finally getting around to “giving back” with some memories of my own. This is vintage mid 1990s. Enjoy.*
My junior-year college girlfriend majored in psychology and theater. Let’s call her “Miranda”. Her mother, an Austrian-British emigre, was a Freudian psychologist, and her father, Rhodesian born but London raised, taught classical music at another college. Her mother’s father had also been a Freudian, and had some sort of professional relationship with Anna Freud in London before immigrating to the US. Their house (an hour’s drive from the campus) was a creaky three-floor Victorian, like something out of an Edward Gorey cartoon. I was a scholarship kid, a nobody strictly from nowheresville, out of my league and completely enchanted.