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Show of purpose wao j-«t>u «" xsaj.LLLy and h i s wife, who were admittedly out for themselves. They had no r e a l family feeling, and yet they had a hold on Brian and me t h a t I could not break. They condoned everything that was worst in him: his late hours, his grass-smoking, his wine-drinking, his profanations. They told him he was ' a l l right* as he was, that the problems lay in me with my exacting expectations and my unhealthy interest in the s c r i p t u r e s . "She's too much l i k e her father," ifiSp^analyzed.me, even in my presence. He seemed to be joking, but the wizened i n t e l l i g e n c e that I remembered from our paper-selling days squinted from his eyes. How could I go back and face them? I gazed at the t o i l e t bowl; the faint odors of urine and vomit rose from i t . I would prefer to stay here, with the smells and discomforts than to return.A I bit my l i p . "Lord, give me strength, I whispered. I rose and wiped my eyes. I returned to the livingroom, my chin lifted high. "Hey,, what's the matter?" Danny's voice was kindly, but I thought his grin was malevolent. "I think everyone here knows what's the matter." Brian stared at his cards. Danny's wife stared at her cards. Danny said, "Hey, we gonna keep playing or what?" " I ' l l play pinochle. But the other game has got to stop." "Game? What other game?" Danny was grinning. "Look, everybody's just a l i t t l e drunk and crazy." "I'm not drunk and I'm not crazy." " I t ' s just the wine," Dierdre said, s t i f l i n g a yawn to express her d i s i n t e r e s t in whatever I said. "Why don't you have some - make you feel b e t t e r ." |