“Ah, Mom. I don’t want to go to church.” We didn’t make it a habit of going to church. Dad had been a nonbeliever, and Mom hadn’t made a big...thing of her beliefs if she had any. I had come to the conclusion that God was a story like Santa Claus that they told you to convince you to be good.With Mom standing right in front of me, smiling at me and working to put her earring on, Grandma walked right up to me and grabbed my bulge. She’d never done anything like that in front of Mom before. I. She did make a final effort, dressing provocatively and meeting him at the door one evening, but he simply kissed her and informed her that he had invited some of his friends over to watch a ball game on TV and asked if she would mind fixing some snacks. Later that night, in bed, she again made advances but while he responded, despite her pleadings for foreplay and originality, it was the usual unsatisfying lovemaking which she had come to abhor.The following day, Peter called to arrange yet. More

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