I made coffee and rubbed my eyes. "You look like a breath of spring. You want me to cook you some breakfast? If not, I'm going to have cold cereal."

"Daddy took me to breakfast. I didn't come here to have a nice little mother/daughter breakfast and forgive you for tearing our family apart"

I laced my fingers together tightly to keep them from slapping fire into her cheeks. Physically she was a combination of three people. She had Drew's straight blond hair, my mother's clear blue eyes, and my short height. In attitude, she was often too danged much like Drew's sarcastic mother.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" she shouted.

I took two steps toward her, leaned forward until she was blurry, and whispered, "You will not speak to me like that ever again, Crystal. Either respect me, or get out. I haven't torn our family apart. Go ask your father about the divorce. He's got all the answers, not me"

Her voice instantly went back to normal. "Oh, come on, Mom. You had to have known about his affairs for years"

I went back to making coffee. "Sorry, doll. I didn't have a clue. If I had, I'd have left years ago."

She gave me one of those looks that I'd seen from her paternal grandmother many times. "I've known for years. How could you not have known? Besides, obviously he wasn't getting what he needed at home, or he wouldn't have strayed."

I gritted my teeth and poured Cheerios into a bowl. "Tell you what: when your new husband has a fling, you remember those words. And when you realize your worst nightmares and suspicions have become reality, you come on back here, and we'll talk again. There will come a day when you'll need a mother-trust me"

"Jonah and I are in love, and I'm never going to be your friend after what you did to our family," Crystal declared.

"Momma said to give a man everything he wanted and to make his life wonderful and he'd stay close to home. It didn't work with your father."

"Evidently you didn't work hard enough at it. Daddy says you're sleeping with Billy Lee Tucker. How long has that been going on? From Daddy to the town's oddball? That's awful." Her pert little nose wrinkled into a snarl.

"Billy Lee is my friend, and you will not call him names, Crystal. He's the only one who's stood beside me in this mess"

She threw her blond hair over her shoulder and pursed her lips. "Daddy says he caught the man in your bedroom, and I believe him."

"Believe what you want. Live the way you want. You are of age according to the laws of Oklahoma. You can even get married without my permission. You don't have to answer to me at all, do you?"

She stood up so fast that the chair almost went over backward. "I'm old enough to make my own choices."

I nearly smiled. "Likewise. I do not have to answer to you for any of my actions." I sat down at the table and started eating Cheerios. "Sure you don't want some breakfast?"

"I told you, I already ate. Has your mind gone along with your style and class?"

"Guess so. You got anything else to say?"

"Just that I'm ashamed of you"

She'd grow up someday and regret saying such mean things. Maybe I'd forgive her. Maybe I wouldn't. But I was sure that whichever way it shook out, the sun would come up, and the world would keep spinning on its axis.

"I'm sorry you feel that way. Did your father consult with you about Charity?"

She stuttered and stammered, but the words wouldn't form. Finally she slapped the table so hard, the milk in my cereal slopped out in big drops all over the plastic place mat.

"I don't have to listen to this," she said with clenched teeth.

"You know the way to the door, honey. This is my house. From now on I do what I want, and no one sends me on any kind of a guilt trip. Not even you, as much as I love you"

Her sweet little world had shattered into pieces, and she couldn't force me to put it back together again. "You're not my mother. She wouldn't say those things to me"

"Oh, I'm your mother, all right. And I should've been more like this the whole time you were growing up. It would have been a much better role model than who I was in those days. I should have confronted my doubts instead of burying them. I'm going to get dressed and go out to the nursing home to see your grandmother. Want to go with me?"

"Not on your life. I'm not going anywhere with you. If it were possible, I'd file for a divorce from you."

"Someday you'll grow up. Until then have a wonderful life and know that I love you" Surprisingly enough, I wasn't crying. I couldn't begin to imagine having this conversation before the ladies' room day without shedding enough tears to flood the Pacific.

"I might love you back if you'd give up this crazy lifestyle and go back home to Daddy." Her voice had turned into whining.

"Did he send you here to ask me that?"

"He hoped I could talk sense to you. He misses you. I guess he was wrong." She raised her tone a few octaves as she started toward the door.

If she was waiting for me to break into tears and throw myself at her feet, she'd better get ready to grow roots down through the floor, the basement, and even deeper, because I didn't care if Drew missed me.

"Guess you never know how much you like the water until the well runs dry, and if I can't have your love unconditionally, then I'll just have to do without it until you grow up. Drive safely," I said.

She slammed the door so hard, it rattled the pictures on the wall. I poured myself a cup of coffee and carried it upstairs without a tear and without looking back. Both of which surprised me.

The next morning I started to put on the yellow dress to wear to church, but I remembered that Momma had said I looked good in red when I'd visited her in the nursing home the day before. Even though I'd worn the red dress to church the week before, I put it on again. This could easily be my new look: a straight dress that didn't bind me up in the middle, a jacket to cover a multitude of eating sins, and simple shoes with no panty hose. Oh, yes, this was my style, and red was my new signature color.

There was one parking space left on the east side of the church, and I had two minutes to get inside before the service began. With any luck Marty and Betsy would not be sitting in my pew for the second week in a row.

Guess who didn't have any luck that morning?

Betsy and Marty were already seated, and their mourning season was clearly over. Betsy wore a yellow dress at least two sizes too small. She kept tugging on the skirt hem to keep her thighs covered. Marty's skintight purple top was so low that she kept pulling at it to keep a disaster from happening right there in church. I could picture Aunt Gert's eyebrows drawn down and her mouth set in a firm line, the look that she always had just before she crawled up on an imaginary soapbox and commenced to lecturing one of us girls. The words an abomination unto the Lord came to my mind as I settled into the pew with them.

"Good morning, Trudy. Didn't you wear that dress last week?" Marty asked.

"Yes, I did."

"No hose?" Betsy looked at my feet.

"That's right."

My smile and cockiness faded when Drew slid into the pew beside me. He stared at my toenails, which had been painted the night before-bright red to match the shoes. He then scanned the abominable goods all the way up to my ultrashort, kinky, curly, dark hair.