"He wasn't a good man."

"No."

"You liked his money that much?" her father asked, and she was shocked by the sudden anger in his voice.

She faltered, her hands shaking harder. She tried another sip of water, but the cup trembled in her grasp. She wished she could just bolt from the room.

"He was good to Nathan."

"He never cared a rat's ass for either of you."

"Dad-" "You should've left him."

"It's more complicated-" "He beat you! You should've left him. You should've come here."

Catherine opened her mouth. She didn't know what to say. Her father had never made that offer. He'd never even commented on her marriage. He'd attended her wedding, where he'd shaken Jimmy's hand and told her new husband good luck. After that, he'd been busy with his card games and veterans' groups and routines. He'd appear every Thanksgiving and Christmas at her in-laws', eat some turkey, hand Nathan a present, give her a kiss on the cheek, and that was it, he was gone again, back to the neighborhood that he loved and she abhorred. Sometimes she wondered if things might have been different if her mother had lived. They would never know.

"It doesn't matter anymore," she said at last.

"Guess not." Her father drank some water.

"There's an issue though. The Gagnons, Jimmy's parents, are suing me for custody of Nathan." She brought up her chin.

"They claim I'm abusing him."

Her father didn't say anything right away. He drank more water, then twisted the cloudy plastic cup in his hands, then drank some more. The silence dragged on. Catherine grew bewildered. Where was the wild denial? Where was the leap to his daughter's defense? Sixty seconds ago he'd been claiming she could've turned to him for help for her broken marriage. Now where was he?

"The illnesses?" her father asked at last.

"They claim I'm doing something to Nathan, tampering with,. food, I don't know what. They think I'm intentionally making him sick."

Father looked up.

"Are you?"

"Dad!"

"He's in the hospital a lot."

"He's sick!"

"Doctors never found anything."

"He has pancreatitis! Right now. Call Dr. Rocco, call anyone in that damn place." She was on her feet.

"He is my son! I have jumped through every hoop I know trying to do right by him. How can you… How dare you! Goddammit, how dare you!"

She was yelling now, literally yelling, like a wild woman, with the veins bulging in her neck, and it occurred to her in the back of her mind that this was what she'd wanted to do for days. Ever since Tuesday morning, when she had picked up the phone and heard Jimmy casually discussing with some lawyer his plans to divorce her.

"You're sure she won't get any thing?" he'd asked the lawyer.

"I don't want her touching one red cent. " "No Nathan, no money," the lawyer had assured him.

"It's all taken care of. I can file the paperwork within the hour. " "I love my son!" she screamed at her father now.

"Why doesn't anyone believe that I love Nathan?"

And then she broke. Her legs gave out. She collapsed on the horrible brown sofa, her shoulders heaving, a strange hiccupping sound coming from her throat. She couldn't find herself. She was lost, drowned in some would-be moment, where Jimmy had left her and Nathan had left her and she was back in her rat-infested apartment, no family, no money, all alone. A blue Chevy would turn down the street. A hole would open in the ground. There would be nothing to save her anymore.

Her father was still sitting across from her. He had his gaze locked intently on the portrait of her mother. That finally gave her strength. She pulled herself together, wiping the back of her hand across her dry eyes.

"Will you support me?" she asked quietly. "You need money?" "No, Dad." Her voice grew terse again. She forced herself to speak calmly, as if explaining to a child.

"There's going to be a hearing. A custody hearing. I met with my lawyer this afternoon. The Gagnons will bring in witnesses to testify that I'm a bad mother, I need my own witnesses who will say I'm a good mother. Or at least," she amended, "that I'm not a threat to Nathan."

"Where is Nathan now?"

"He's in the hospital. He has pancreatitis."

"Shouldn't you be there?"

"Of course I should be there!" She tried taking another deep breath.

"But I'm here, Dad, talking to you about Nathan's future because despite what anyone might think, I don't want to lose my son."

"The Gagnons aren't bad grandparents," he said.

"No. In their own way, I'm sure they love Nathan."

"He's all they have left now."

"He's all I have left, too."

"I think they would provide for him," her father said.

Catherine blinked her eyes, feeling slightly delirious.

"I would provide for him, too."

Her father finally looked at her. She was startled by the anguish she saw in his face.

"You used to be such a happy child."

"Dad?"

"I got out the home movies. I was cleaning out the attic, going through some stuff. I'm getting some arthritis, you know; it's tough to mount the stairs. So I thought I'd better get to those boxes, get them cleaned out while I still can. I found the old reel-to-reels. Watched them last night."

She couldn't say anything. Tears glistened in her father's eyes.

"You were so pretty," he whispered.

"Your hair back in a pony-tail, tied with a big red bow. Your mother used to comb it out for you every morning and you'd pick a ribbon for the day. Red was your favorite, followed by pink.

"You were in the backyard. Your birthday, I think, but I didn't see a cake. Other kids were over and we had filled the kiddie pool' You were laughing and splashing in the water, shrieking when I turned on the hose.

"You were laughing," he repeated now, almost helplessly.

"Catherine, I haven't seen you laugh in over twenty years."

Her chest went tight. She thought she should say something. She ended up shaking her head, as if to deny his words.

"Your mother loved you so much." He stood abruptly and turned away from her.

"I'm glad she's dead. I'm glad she didn't live to see what would happen next."

"Dad-" "You're not right, Catherine. You came back to us; God knows we considered ourselves grateful to get you back from that hell. But you're not right. In the end, our little girl died that day, and I don't know who's standing in front of me now. You don't laugh anymore. Sometimes, I'm not sure you feel anything at all."

She shook her head again, but he was nodding emphatically, as if arriving at some destination at the end of a very long trip. He turned back around. He looked her in the eye.

"You should let them have Nathan."

"He's my son."

"They have a lot of money, they'll take good care of him. Maybe they can even find him the right doctor."

"I've been trying to find him the right doctor!" Her father spoke as if he'd never heard her.

"They can get him counseling. That's probably what we should've done."

Catherine rose to her feet.

"You're my father. I'm asking for your support. Will you give it?"

"It's not the right thing to do."

"Will you give it!"

He reached out as if to take her hand. She frantically snatched it back. And he smiled at her sadly.

"You were a happy child," he said quietly.

"Maybe it's not too late. Maybe if you get the right help, you can be happy again. That's all your mother wanted, you know. Even once she got cancer. She never prayed to live. She always prayed just to see you smile once more. But you never did, Catherine. Your mother was dying, and you still couldn't grant her that tiny little curve of the lips."

"You're mad at me? Is that what this is about? You're pissed off at me because I couldn't smile while my mother was dying?

You… you…"