. how long? The house rangwith jokes, laughter, friendly bickering and fond remembrances. It seemedthat there was no room in the house for hard feelings or jealousy orbitter feuds. After dinner, there were bungled attempts at Christmascarols, but one or two of them made lovely solo efforts that were greetedwith applause.Singly or in pairs, the relations made their farewells and holidaywishes, until there was only the immediate family. Her sister, Alison,helped Marcy wrap her presents. There was a flickering moment, when Marcyseemed to remember something... a car accident...? No that was ridiculous,what was Marcy thinking?Marcy and Alison snuck downstairs and put their presents under the treewith juvenile glee. Then they got cleaned up and ready for bed, eachhelping the other with their hair, just as Marcy had always wished shecould. Wished? No, March and Alison had always helped each other withtheir hair, it was a sort of quiet ritual with them, one of the thousandsimple joys that. Brit had told me she liked my dark leather sofa/chair set, and the Craftsman style coffee and end tables. She had even helped me pick out the lamps with the Tiffany-style shades and the wool-and-silk oriental rugs. Brit liked being surrounded by nice things. At this point the question in my mind was: did she really love me, or was I just some sort of ‘life-style’ enabler — a meal ticket, who didn’t collect rent and was letting her recover financially, getting her services, sexual and otherwise, in exchange. Hell if I knew. When Brit announced that she heading for bed, I followed. Watching Brit get ready for bed that night was an odd juxtaposition for me: it gave me such pleasure watching her naked body — the curves, the hills and valleys that I found so esthetically pleasing — as she stood at ‘her’ sink in the bathroom, while saddened by the knowledge that it was likely to be the last time that I would have that pleasure. In bed, knowing she had most likely already been with her ex.
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