“I am not being prejudiced.” As if she were some bigoted recluse! When was the last time he was in lower Santa Ana? It’s too much. But he doesn’t understand, he’s giving her the what-did-I-say-now look that she also gets from Dennis. They look surprisingly alike sometimes. Usually the wrong times. Lucy sniffs hard and collects herself while tending the microwave. “Anyway, you should try to look better. It would make you a better teacher.”

“I look like what I look like, Mom.”

“Nonsense. It’s all under your control. And it sends out signals about what you think of the people you’re with. And of yourself, of course.”

“Semiotics of clothing, eh Mom?”

“I don’t know. Semiotics?”

“What you were saying about signals.”

“Well, yes then. Go look in the mirror.”

“In a bit.”

“Are you staying for dinner?”

“No. Just dropped by to see if any mail’s come for me.”

Great. “No, nothing’s here.” And off he goes, hurrying a bit to make sure he’s gone by the time Dennis gets home.

This worries Lucy greatly, this growing rift between Dennis and Jim. She knows very well that it’s bad for both of them. Both of them need to have each other’s respect to be fully happy, that’s only natural. And when there are so many other forces in action to make them unhappy, it becomes more important than ever. It’s support, mutual support, in a crucial area … Thinking these thoughts Lucy picks up the phone and calls Jim as he tracks east on the Garden Grove Freeway. “Listen, Jim, can you come to dinner tomorrow night? We haven’t been seeing you often enough recently.” Not at all, in fact, since he and Dennis had that fight out in the driveway. They haven’t seen each other even once since then, and it’s been over a week, and Lucy can feel the resentment and anger growing on both sides.

Jim says, “I don’t know, Mom.”

Annoyance and concern clash in her. “You don’t just come by here and check for mail,” she snaps. “We’re more than a post office box. You come by and eat a meal with your father soon, do you understand me?”

“All right,” he says, voice sharp. “But not tomorrow. Besides, I don’t see what good it’ll do—he’ll just think it’s another way that he’s supporting me.” And he hangs up.

Only minutes later Dennis stalks in, in a foul mood indeed. Lucy decides that he needs distraction from work thoughts, and she risks rebuff to tell him about Anastasia and Lillian. Dennis grunts his way through dinner. She tries another tack. Get him to talk it out, not bottle things up. “What did you do today?”

“Talked with Lemon.”