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Show A PROPER INTRODUCTION-25 giggle. "They took your mother's brain right away, of course." "What?" I say. "Her brain. Remember? She donated it for research." "Oh yes." I think Laura's voice sounds harsh and I wonder if she's angry with me. She's driving to the nursing home. Why? Oh, yes, it's on the way to Dad's house. Would Laura stop at the nursing home if I asked her to? How could I explain? There must be something left, a trail to help me catch up to the moment-a pillow indented perhaps, a brunette hair, a little suitcase with her things, the sheets bundled. But we're supposed to go to my father's house. Dad is hard to talk to. But Paul will be there. Little brother Paul, thank God. The house is a Tudor, with an oak tree on the front lawn. Now the leaves are bright yellow like the yolks from the fresh eggs we ate when we lived at the lake. I wish they'd kept the country house. Why move here into this big house with me gone and Paul almost ready for college? The front stairs are half covered by a ramp installed a year ago. Dad is at the door. Laura slips past us to the kitchen. Dad smells of cigarettes and old-fashioneds, and he's wearing, as always, a white shirt and tie, although the tie is loosened today. I wish he'd let me take off my coat, but he has me in a hug, damp and hot through the cotton of his white shirt. My left foot is in the wrong place and I can't stop it from trembling as the hug goes on and on. Not daring to breathe, I slowly bring my elbow down between us, turn my shoulder to his chest, and ease my weight onto my other foot. Finally, he lets go and we can sit down, catch up. I can hear Laura going through the pots and pans. She lives in the next town and it's convenient for her to help, something she would do even if it weren't, without |