t a miracle would occur and Jack would
see what was happening； not only to him but to her。 But there had been no
slowdown。 A drink before going off to the Academy。 Two or three beers with lunch
at the Stovington House。 Three or four martinis before dinner。 Five or six more
while grading papers。 The weekends were worse。 The nights out with Al Shockley
were worse still。 She had never dreamed there could be so much pain in a life
when there was nothing physically wrong。 She hurt all the time。 How much of it
was her fault？ That question haunted her。 She felt like her mother。 Like her
father。 Sometimes； when she felt like herself she wondered what it would be like
for Danny； and she dreaded the day when he grew old enough to lay blame。 And she
wondered where they would go。 She had no doubt her mother would take her in； and
no doubt that after a year of watching her diapers remade； Danny's meals
recooked and/or redistributed； of ing home to find his clothes changed or his
hair cut or the books her mother found unsuitable spirited away to some limbo in
the attic 。。。 after half a year of that； she would have a plete nervous
breakdown。 And her mother would pat her hand and say fortingly； Although it's
not your fault； it's all your own fault。 You were never ready。 You showed your
true colors when you came between your father and me。
My father； Danny's father。 Mine； his。
（Who giveth this woman？ I do。 Dead of a heart attack six months later。）
The night before that morning she had lain awake almost until he came in；
thinking； ing to her decision。
The divorce was necessary； she told herself。 Her mother and father didn't
belon