I knew Bri would only get nastier, like her mom she would not lose an argument, at least not vocally, Jills wit went right over my daughters head, the...difference in their intellect was startling, Jill was extremely crafty with wordage, Bri seemed to think fuck off was a clever rejoiner. I know I sound bad, dissing my flesh, but I did not want her to become her mother, the world had enough pushy, big mouth broads, no ones gonna argue that shit. Kids are mallable, they were playing nice, talikng. Call him, the night's still young. You can both have a real good laugh tellin' your highbrow friends all about it," I said. Her face paled. Clearly her memory was kicking in. "Oh my God!" I turned and walked off. I felt pretty good. It was only later that I began to feel—well, not good. I had no reason to feel bad; I knew that. I hadn't done anything wrong, and it made no sense for me to be down. But—the woman—she wasn't just a woman, she could have been "the" woman. Ah hell, it made no sense. More

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