When things settle down she’s supposed to go back to where she was without too much trouble.Bec started running her hands over Angela’s face and then around the back of her head.Tara: What are you doing?Bec: I’m checking. I need to know that she’s okay.Angela F: (whispers) I’m okay.Bec: I just need to be sure, Angel. I just need to be sure.Bec started taking Angela’s dress off – under the dress she was wearing an undershirt plus thick white tights over her diaper. Tara looked over at me with a puzzled expression on her face. Bec’s actions didn’t appear to be traumatizing Angela so I shrugged and nodded for Tara to let it continue. Once Bec had both the dress and the undershirt off, she ran her fingertips all over Angela’s chest, arms and back. She appeared to be looking for broken bones or bruises or any other form of injury. Angela let it happen without any protest – just the occasional giggle and wriggle when Bec touched a tickle-spot.Bec moved on to Angela’s legs, sliding off her. "I'll clean up," she said. "You can go to bed, too, dad."Mom was already halfway up the stairs, her sleek butt swinging from side to side, those long legs flashing, when dad climbed out of his chair. "Might as well," he said. "Nowhere else to go."He was so good looking, she thought, and moved like a kid half his age. Her father looked impossibly Nordic, with pale blonde hair and green eyes; he was six feet tall, and a well muscled 200 pounds, with no paunch. It was a wonder that women didn't fight over him.Lorena didn't think that was the trouble between her parents, other women. It was just something that had grown sharp and ugly over the years, like a sickness. But if they wouldn't do anything about it, the kids would. Sneaking a drink behind the bar, Lorena felt the stuff burn all the way down. She needed a little extra courage, but before she could pour herself another shot, she looked up and saw her father watching."You're a good kid, Lorena," he said. "Some guy is going to be.
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