McClintock would bang his fist upon the table. My foster mother, Janine, wasn’t much fatter. ‘Cover her, men. ” “You haven’t answered my question. The doctor nodded to him curtly. The fragrance of dryer sheets lay upon her like the snow that now drifted peacefully outside. It was apparent, and then it faded into the quality of an inevitable necessity. I don’t know if I express myself clearly. “Who’ll mind the baby nar?” was one of the night’s inspirations, and very frequent. He pressed his lips to her with a much greater force than she had anticipated. “I’m sorry! Mary! Are you hurt?” “No.
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