"I can't see anymore because my eyes are wet." --Ginny
And me.
Then Marilyn took her boxes from the hiding place in the attic and sat down to write James a note. But how did you write something like this? It seemed wrong to write to him on her stationary, as if her were a stranger. More wrong still to write it on the scratch pad in the kitchen, as if it were not more important than a grocery list....[then she writes, starting,] "I realized I'm not happy with the kind of life I lead."~*~*~*~*~
The foam chokes its way down the drain. "I know how to think for myself, you know. Unlike some people, I don't just kowtow to the police." In the blur of her fury, Marilyn doesn't think twice about what she's said. To James, though, the word rifles from his wife's mouth and lodges deep in his chest. From those two syllables, kowtow, explode bent-backed coolies and cone hats, pigtailed Chinamen with sandwiched palms, squinty and servile, bowing and belittled. He has long-suspected that everyone sees him this way...but he had not thought that everyone included Marilyn.
Her mother must have cried over this page, too, "It's not your fault," your father had said. But Lydia knew it was. They'd done something wrong, she and Nath. They'd made her angry somehow. They hadn't been what she wanted. If her mother ever came home, and told her to finish her milk, she thought, the page wavering to a blur, she would finish her milk. She would brush her teeth without being asked... (about 2/5 of the way thru chapter 6)
Nath and Lydia brushed their teeth sociably at the sink...It was too big to talk about what had happened.