She could not bring herself to sleep with any of these men. Then the phone rang."Hello Stan nice to hear from you. No your brother that asshole is not...home. He is probably at some titty bar. He hasn't held his son for one second yet. He doesn't care about me or the baby."She thought: "I married the wrong brother Stan is such a nice guy. Nice responsible and he would make a great father." Thus began Carmella's plan."Stan, how about you come over? And you can see your nephew? You can keep me. "Shouldn't be long now." Ooo, I can hardly wait," the mid-thirtyish woman squealed. "Al, hey Al, Henry's back!" she yelled in that sort of hoarse whisper-shout of someone wishing to yell without being heard too far away. A pot-bellied slight balding man in his mid-forties shuffled groggily into view from the battered trailer's tiny bedroom. He was holding an open half-quart can of beer and an unlit cigarette was dangling from his lower lip. It stayed there as he spoke, held in place by the. More

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