"It was a horrendous trip. There were accidents
and delays and I just managed to get home now. I'll
get there tomorrow," he said. "but I did call and the
nurse told me she was resting comfortably."
"She's drugged. How would they know if she
was comfortable. Daddy?"
"All right," he said. "It's late. Cinnamon. Let's
talk about it all tomorrow."
"When?"
"When I see you," he said. ''Go to sleep. You're
just going to make things more difficult for everyone
by being contentious," he added and walked on to his
bedroom.
I stood there and watched him go in, closing the
door softly behind him.
He's not the same. I thought. He's just not the
same. There's something more than Mommy's
condition affecting him. I knew he would never tell
me what it was. Could it be he was in trouble
financially? Were we on the brink of economic
disaster? Did he depend on Grandmother's money
these days? Was that why he wouldn't contest
anything she did?
Falling asleep with these questions in the air
was like trying to walk over an icy road. Every time I
drew close to drifting off, another troubling thought
jerked me back awake, keeping me slipping and
sliding until I finally passed out just before dawn. I hadn't set the alarm and my grandmother actually had
to come pounding on my door.
"Are you getting up or not?" she cried from the