Isn't that the way it always is? Whenyou give up something forever, don't you look back at it one last time,watching it fade in perspective into the ...istance? Downstairs her father put on one of his old vinyl LP's. He had left themhere with the intension of having them sent to California when he and hermother split. He just never seemed to get around to asking for them.Through the floor, the steamy sounds of Louis Armstrong's trumpet filteredup into Kim's room, muffled by sheetrock, flooring. Only tonight, he hadn'tkissed me; I kissed him.Or rather, Cindy had."Did you get us a room, dear?"I glared at K as I stormed over to the car. 'Heel-toe' and 'straightfeet' and 'small steps' were forgotten in my anger. I was walking like agoddamn linebacker just then. "Yeah. Room fucking 12," I growled. Igrabbed half the bags off the ground before remembering that there wasno fucking way Cindy could carry all that shit. "This way, Mom." Ifought to get my voice back under control, to push the. More

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