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Show 72 morning, when he had driven them to church, she had expected him to be different somehow. To acknowledge in some way the effect the incident had on him. To tell Marty, if nothing else, that he was sorry, that he had not meant to do what he had done. But he was the same as always -remote, as remote as a distant planet, beyond the cares and activities of the children and Katie. The strain of the past few months remained in his face. But otherwise his features were a mask. A cold, impersonal mask that could not be penetrated. Katie, however, had been affected. She acted differently. Re-: straining her outbursts, her irritability. Holding herself back where before she lit into anyone crossing her path. It was a trial for her. An obvious trial. She would begin to make some sharp remark, to reprimand one of the children, and then check herself. The struggle, the effort, would show in her face. Again, she would breathe deeply, and slowly regain herself. She held to this for a couple of weeks. Until the bandage was left off Marty's head. Until the incident began to fade from everyone's immediate concerns. And then, almost as if without that visual aid to assist her, she began to let herself go. It was as if she could not help it. She could help herself no longer. And once again, getting through an evening without tears, without someone being screamed at or slapped, was rare. One morning while Sharon was making the kids breakfast, Katie appeared in the kitchen. Usually Katie did not come down before the kids were off to school. But this morning she had to attend a breakfast for the Legion of Mary. She was all dressed up, in heels, her hair |
