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Show Go Love/126 15. Our customary seats: O.W. in the recliner, me and my wife and daughter on the love seat to his right, Traceleen over to his left, on the couch where Mama'd be, half-looped and moaning on pain killers. The chemicals I'd sensed through the locked door are fully realized now. Tough Man, Mama's little black and white Shit Tzu trots out through the laundry door, dragging a purple-striped tube sock-Jimmy's from football sixteen years ago. The dog trots pretty as you please, right up to Lara and leaps into her lap which flat out amazes my daughter-the most amazing thing The tv's on-Bob Barker ogling big breasted contestant number three, come on down, the price is right. I feel outright sick. She'd scalded I remember Trace saying. He's tried to cover the smell with Mama's vanilla potpourri. The doorbell rings. When Traceleen opens, there stands Uncle Bold and Aunt Judy. "Good morning, Jimmy," Uncle Bold says. O.W. glares "Joey," I say. "Sorry, Joey." He says, "Two crows," sips from a sealed coffee mug. Bold's a whiskey |