- 6 -
- 6 -I retreated, mortified, into the bedroom after returning home from church. Mother’s blatant comment about the possibility of me being pregnant had gone beyond humiliation. How could she? I hid in the darkened bedroom. Mother came in to fuss. I ignored her, pretending to be asleep. George brought me a small glass of wine, even though it was my policy not to drink on Sunday. There were always exceptions.
I sat up to take the wine glass.
“It’s okay to have that—right, I mean alcohol?” George asked. He fidgeted with the bedspread, which was totally out of character for him. I figured Mother had filled him in about the spectacle I’d created at church.
“Sure, why not?” I said. “Oh.” I looked at the wine. Mother had obviously filled George in on her speculation as to the cause of m
