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She laughed as if I had asked the silliest question.

"Why was I alone? You think my mother's some sort of angel because she puts on that pained or hurt face all the time? You think Harry's been her only male experience since my father died? Late at night, she would slip out of the house and go to bars on the other side of the county, pick up someone, and often not come home until the wee hours of the morning or the next day."

"You never told me that."

"Oh, Zipporah. Don't you get tired of saying that? You want me to tell you every little grisly detail about my miserable life? Should I tell you about the night I spent in a motel in another bed while my mother and a man she met were in the next bed making love like two monkeys? Should I tell you how I put the blanket and the pillow over my ears to block out the moaning and groaning?"

I shook my head. "When?"

"All this happened before we met, but I couldn't tell you about it or tell you other stuff. I was afraid you'd think poorly of me and not want to be my friend."

"I would have been your friend no matter what, Karen."

"I know that now, but not back then, and! wasn't eager to revive the nasty memories."

I nodded. It wasn't hard for me to understand that. I felt even sorrier for her. I understood why she was so nervous about getting anyone to take her side, to believe her. Her own mother betrayed her and put her through such nasty things just to please herself.

"But what made you run off and sneak into Harry's mother's apartment to stay last night?"

"Instinct."

"What do you mean, instinct?"

She smiled. "When I watched you with your father out there and saw you sobbing, I had a feeling you might do something dumb like want to turn me in, let your parents know about me. I was also afraid your parents might have seen or heard the recorder or you might have broken down and confessed it all when you were with them in New York City. I just thought it was wise to be cautious and not take any chances. I thought there might have been a problem when you met my mother, too. Actually, I confirmed that last night."

"How?"

"When I was in the apartment, I put my ear to the wall. I could hear my mother on the telephone. She was telling someone about my phone call from New York and the police and then you. I didn't hear details, but I had the sense you had done something disturbing."

"Who was she talking to?"

"I don't know," she said. "She used that sweet, flirtatious voice of hers. I've always suspected she had a boyfriend on the side while she was married to Harry and some of these shopping trips were phony. Of course, it would be dreadful, disastrous for her, if that got out now. She has to be the mournful widow for a decent period of time. But, she went out to do something, and I snuck into my room and got some of my things, the jewelry I could sell, and some more money I remembered I had hidden. Don't worry. I was very careful. She'd never know I was there, and I waited until she was gone this morning before sneaking out and back here through the woods. So you see, you nearly destroyed everything."

She sipped some more lemonade. I looked down, wondering what to do, wondering if she were right.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I only meant to do whatever would help you."

"I believe you. You know what's going to happen next, though, don't you?"

I shook my head.

"After your father tells the police what you told him, they'll call you in again, and this time, they'll be grilling you like a hot dog on a spit. I'm not sure, but they might even have you face my mother and force you to make all those accusations about Harry. It could get very, very ugly for you."

"What should I do?"

"Nothing else, that's for sure. Just wait to see. We'll talk about it, prepare just as we had prepared last time. Oh, I can't stand all this!" she suddenly cried, and put her hands over her ears. She was pressing on her head so hard, she looked as if she would crack it like an egg. Her face reddened with the agony and the anger. "I want to drown it out just the way I used to drown out the sounds of my mother making love to some new boyfriend. She didn't wait all that long after my father died, either, to dip into her pool of lust."

She relaxed and took her hands from her ears. After a moment, she sighed and looked at me sadly. "We were doing so well, Zipporah," she continued, shaking her head at me. "I wanted us to have some fun, at least, as a distraction, but also for your sake. That's why I wanted you to meet Dana Martin. I've been working hard on that to keep my mind off things Have you any idea what it's been like for me, sitting up there in silence, trying not to think of the terrible things that have happened to me? You can't imagine the pins and needles I was on while you were in New York and I was wondering if you would mess up the call or maybe not make it. It was good therapy for me to think about Dana."

"He said you called him last night. He said you told him we should get together to decide how to help you. He said you told him that he and I were your best and only friends now."

"Hook, line, and sinker," she said, smiling

"What?"

"He thinks he's so smooth, so sophisticated, the Don Juan of our school, but he's just as easy to twist and turn as any of them. He fell for my story hook, line, and sinker. He wants to meet you tonight, right?" "Yes."

"Good," she said, standing.

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