I slipped out of the bedroom, padding through the house as quiet as a burglar. After carefully opening the door, I spied the couple on the bed. He was...fat, on his back, and snoring like a saw mill, sleeping off his drunk. His wife lay on her side, sandy-blonde hair almost glowing by the moonlight. I ripped away her covers, revealing her body clad in a cotton nightgown that covered her modestly from head to foot, decorated with little blue flowers. I slipped into bed with her, stroking her. Dad and Clay’s mom met at the Senior Citizen Center where they went regularly to play cards or bingo or whatever else they did. Neither Clay (whom I didn’t know existed) nor I knew what they were planning. It had all been settled before we were told. Mom died eight years ago and Dad had been alone since then. Clay’s mother had been a widow for longer. Clay and I had moved in with our parents for the same reason: because we didn’t think they should be living alone at their age.Clay and his mom. More

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