Pots clanged on the stove inside the kitchen.

"No!" Nancy Parker roared over the clatter of pots and pans. "Don't you dare say that, Mother! Don't you… "

Unable to stay on the other side of the door while her mother went through whatever she was going through, Liz pushed through the door. j

Her mother stood by the stove. She looked over at Liz, then blinked as if dazed.

No one else was in the room.

"Hi, Liz," Nancy Parker said. She glanced down at the frying pan and saucepan she held as though surprised to see them.

Other pots and pans cluttered the stovetop and counter space. Evidently the conversation had been going on longer than Liz had heard, because her mom had taken a number of dishes, pots and pans, and other cooking utensils from the cabinets and strewn them about.

"Hey, Mom," Liz said. She wanted to say more, but she couldn't. How's your sanity today? was a question that she just couldn't ask. Just dropped in for a reality check. That wasn't any better.

Nancy Parker checked the clock on the stove as she carefully put the two pans down. "You're late."

"I'm headed down now," Liz said. An unaccustomed chill filled the room, but she figured that the window had been left open. Roswell was always hot by noon, but sometimes the coolness from the desert night took a while to burn away. Her mother must have left the window open.

"Did you need something?"

Liz froze for a moment. "Nope," she answered. "I heard you talking in here… "

"I wasn't talking."

Liz stared at her mom. "Okay, maybe I left the radio on in my room and I thought it was you."

Nancy Parker smiled. "Maybe we should have your hearing checked."

My hearing is fine, Liz thought, but she said, "Is there anything you need? Before I go downstairs, I mean?"