‘I saw her at Molly’s wedding. In fact, we uh … got together … after the reception,’ I said, wondering how they would react to my confession... Margaret didn’t react, but her back was to me as she was tending to something on the stove. Walter looked at me briefly, but I couldn’t read anything into his expression. ‘At least you got to see her and talk to her. That’s more than we’ve been able to do,’ Margaret said harshly. I considered telling them about the diet pills and decided they didn’t need. .. her own mother, John Barrett's widow, sprawled nakedly across the bedspread like a central character in some five-dollar porno movie... pot-bellied, balding Jerry Marlowe hunched over her, his head stuffed between her lewdly-splayed thighs, his back arching and bobbing as he salaciously licked and sucked there at the banquet-table of her naked loins! Even now, over the pounding rhythms of the rock music from her radio, she could still hear, in that private inner ear of her mind, the wetly. More

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