There it was, plugged in and ready, under their little second T. V. set they had as a spare. At dinner, Mum was humming to herself, and glancing at Da..., who was more silent than ever. She even sang chirpily as she cleared the plates: Whoo-whooo! Ride Em, Cowboy! Whip-Crack Away, Whip-Crack Away! Patting her bottom as she left for the kitchen, she giggled that her journey had made it very sore. Dad blushed like a tomato, but said nothing in reply, he just hid his gaze in his coffee mug. After. Unless he was even more a blind fool than it was beginning to sound like he was, he'd realize that the rest of us weren't likely to turn a blind eye to that. And that would make him desperate, and dangerous. For now, though, I could grit my teeth and wait for his little game to be over. Odds were it was bothering me more than Mom, even though she was the one on her knees. Like Nat, my mother was no delicate little flower, and wouldn't appreciate it if she thought I saw her as one. Besides, the. More

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