Bette Jean sat down for a minute at the shiny white Formica table. She just had to get her breath. And there was still dinner to think about. Wearily she pushed the curls up off her collar. Gary wasn't home yet either and then she remembered. Lester had given him permission over her protests to spend the night with Jimmy Herter. So there'd be only the two of them for dinner tonight.

She fought down a little shiver, knowing from experience that Lester never failed to get amorous when Gary was out of the house… not that Gary's presence really stopped him. Sometimes she just lay there dying of embarrassment when Lester was venting his animal passions on her helpless body, knowing that their son Gary could be lying awake listening and maybe hearing every sound through the thin walls. A four-bedroom, housing-development house was not made for privacy.

Still it was a nice house. She looked around appreciatively. The new wall-to-wall carpeting made it look even larger, the soft celery green pushing the walls further apart. Lester was a good provider and she should be ashamed of herself for not appreciating him more.

But with her head beginning to ache and this awful fatigue settling on her like a plague, she didn't feel very appreciative. She wondered what mischief Gary might get into at the Herter boy's house. Gary was such a good boy most of the time, but he did need handling. He was shy and sensitive like her. You'd never even know he was Lester's child except when he flew into those unpredictable rages now and again.

Bette Jean forced herself to get up and change her clothes before starting dinner. It wouldn't do any good to get her new beige suit dirty making dinner. She hung it up carefully in the bedroom closet and started automatically to put on her old blue wraparound… but a chance glance at herself in the mirror stopped her.