Her parents had gone to a dinner party, left fifty dollars on the kitchen table, and told them to go out to dinner, but Josie pocketed the money, and they raided the refrigerator and wine cellar. After drinking two bottles of expensive cabernet, they were drunk. They tried to open a third bottle, broke it, and then mangled the cork of a fourth. Josie wanted to ditch that bottle too, but J.D. thought it silly to let it go to waste, so he broke the bottle neck and poured the wine through a strainer and into a crystal pitcher. They sipped from the pitcher and stumbled from room to room, looking for the cigarettes Josie knew her mother hid. When they got to the library, J.D. surveyed the long shelves of books, laden alternately with expensive antiques and extravagant art from her parents’ many trips, and said, “You’re rich.” She giggled and agreed. “And you’re hot,” she said, and pulled him onto the fainting couch that her mother had upholstered with imported French brocade. He sloppily licked her neck and pulled off her shirt and his pants, and they were rolling around on the expensive Persian rug that was not to be walked on with shoes when she saw her mother’s thin heels on the hardwood floor in the doorway. It took Josie a few moments to realize first that her mother was watching her and second that she was half naked, but when she did, she froze. J.D. must have felt the immediate change in her body because he looked behind him, said “Oh, shit,” and grabbed for his pants, but Josie dug her nails into his back to keep him close, and tried to think about watering systems. She clawed at him and prayed her mother would go away, but she stood there long enough that Josie could chant “watering systems” twenty-five times. It wasn’t until J.D. said, “Sorry, ma’am,” that her mother finally did anything, and what she did was step farther into the room. Josie could hear her mother’s shoes clip slowly across the floor, and she closed her eyes and prayed her mother would stop. Instead, her mother picked up Josie’s shirt from the rug and stood beside them. No one moved, and Josie thought they would have stayed like that perpetually, her mother looming over them, but her father came in and after an initial “Jesus Christ” told her mother to let them be. “She’s your daughter,” her mother said and walked, with Josie’s shirt, out of the room. Her father closed the door, and J.D. gave Josie his shirt to put on. They left the next day, and that night, when they were back at school, Josie knocked on his door and, without even coming into his dorm room, broke up with him. Then she went back to her room, called her mother, and said simply, “I wish you were dead.”