Terri cloth towel wrap over silken flesh untouched by the sun. Patting and wiping pellets of wetness from her skin that trailed in stream or clung as ... drop in wait. Slowly wiping and walking she glanced at the television. Lines rolled downward through the fussy picture. She moved the antenna around to find the best location for the clearest picture. She changed the channel by turning the knob and then turned it back. Finally she settled on a setting and began stepping backwards till she felt. ‘Where’s he?’ Mother knew I was talking about my father. Her smile got brighter. ‘Gone,’ she said. ‘Believe it or not, he came home sober – at least sober for him – last night. He got up early, had a cup of coffee and took off.’ I wanted to let myself feel excited, but I wasn’t sure I should. ‘He say when he’s coming home?’ I asked. Mother’s smile got brighter. She turned down the burner on the gas stove, set the spatula she was holding her hand on the stove, and started toward me, wiping her. More

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