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"It was a horrendous trip. There were accidents

and delays and I just managed to get home now. I'll

get there tomorrow," he said. "but I did call and the

nurse told me she was resting comfortably."

"She's drugged. How would they know if she

was comfortable. Daddy?"

"All right," he said. "It's late. Cinnamon. Let's

talk about it all tomorrow."

"When?"

"When I see you," he said. ''Go to sleep. You're

just going to make things more difficult for everyone

by being contentious," he added and walked on to his

bedroom.

I stood there and watched him go in, closing the

door softly behind him.

He's not the same. I thought. He's just not the

same. There's something more than Mommy's

condition affecting him. I knew he would never tell

me what it was. Could it be he was in trouble

financially? Were we on the brink of economic

disaster? Did he depend on Grandmother's money

these days? Was that why he wouldn't contest

anything she did?

Falling asleep with these questions in the air

was like trying to walk over an icy road. Every time I

drew close to drifting off, another troubling thought

jerked me back awake, keeping me slipping and

sliding until I finally passed out just before dawn. I hadn't set the alarm and my grandmother actually had

to come pounding on my door.

"Are you getting up or not?" she cried from the