MOMMY CAN’T LEAVE DADDY ALONE.

"Kiss your father goodnight, Belinda."

"Mom--"

"No arguments, now. You don't think so, but he knows it when we care for him. He can hear us. He can feel things, just as if your sweet loving Daddy was--himself, again." Her mother, travel agent for guilt trips, laced her voice with more manufactured hurt than the poor syllables could carry. The pink slippers clapped together once for emphasis.

"This is gross," Belinda said, still refusing to look up.

"Belinda Fowler! I'll thank you not to speak of your father that way again in my presence! How do you think he feels? Have you thought about that? Of course you haven't.”