One day after breakfast Jen paused in the kitchen. As wasMargaret's habit, Pete's bed companion had busied herself withthe post breakfast clean up. ...er hands busied themselves washingdishes while her baby, suspended in a sling like contraptionabout Margaret's right shoulder sucked milk from Margaret's rightbreast. It seemed all so natural, thought Jen. Jen saw this asan opportunity to gather some background information. The twonaked women stood side by side and conversed."Margaret, my aunt. “Was it something you ate?”I shook my head. “Drank,” I croaked.“Too much whiskey?”Fuck, he knew me. He read the look of shame on my expression and laughed.“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” he said, gently taking me into his arms. He lifted me off the floor and carried me back to my room.“What if I throw up on you?”“There’s this great invention I have to tell you about, Celie,” he said, pressing his lips to my temple. “It’s called a washing machine.”I punched him in the chest.“Don’t call me. More

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