“Would you like some breakfast?” said Frank.

“Oh, no,” said my mother. “We stopped on the way.”

“Coffee, then?”

“That would be nice.”

My father’s eyes were crawling all over the place, until they found my brassiere draped over the desk chair.

“Quite a place you’ve got here,” he said to Frank. “It’s really . . . different.”

“Different from what?” I said.

Frank flashed me a look which meant “Be gracious,” and my mother jumped in to steer the conversation.

“Those big cushions there look comfortable,” she said. “And they’re so practical too.”

Frank brought the coffee, and we all sat down to a grating silence. I broke it with the suggestion that we invite Gloria up too.

“Oh, no,” my mother said, flustered. “She was just going out when we came in.”

“How convenient for her.”

“You’ll stay for dinner, won’t you?” asked Frank.

“We don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not imposing. I was just going out to the store for vegetables. Any particular kind you like?”

“No, really—”

“They both like green beans,” I said.

As soon as Frank was dressed and gone, I put on another pot of coffee and took the chicken from the refrigerator to prepare it for the oven. I wanted them to see that I was familiar with everything in the apartment.

“Are you ready to tell me the truth?” I said casually.

“How long have you been living here?” My father’s tone was too nonchalant, the tone people sometimes use when they find they have been shifted from offense to defense.

“I don’t live here. And you didn’t answer my question.”

“We just hadn’t heard from you. . . .” My mother was too unpracticed in lies to complete this one.

“Frank will be back soon,” I said, “and I’m not going to discuss this in front of him. Let’s not waste time beating around the bush.”

“We thought you might be in some kind of trouble,” said my father.

“Where did you get that idea?” Neither of them answered. “I know it had to be Gloria. She called you, didn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“Kenneth!” My mother winced. “You promised you wouldn’t—”

“Because she was concerned. It sounds as though you’re in a situation you’re not aware of,” he said.

“Is that so? What did Gloria use for evidence?”

“Now just hold on. We’d like some explanation from you. What do you know about this guy? How come there’s no furniture in this place? And just what in hell is your brassiere doing over there?”

“Obviously I spent the night here.”

“Obviously. And quite a few other nights, it seems.”

“That’s right.”

“I’m glad you’re so proud of it!” he snapped. “Maybe you wouldn’t mind your brothers knowing about this, either.”

“Kenneth!”

“That’s up to you,” I said. “I didn’t ask you to come spying. I’m twenty-two years old. If you care to remember, you got married at twenty and Mom was eighteen.”

“That’s right. Married. Not shacking up!”

I knew what I was about to say would hurt my mother more than him, but I couldn’t resist. “Married January second. I was born June first. And I wasn’t premature.”