The conversation would stutter, then stall, and they’d patiently wait until it was time for the kids to finish their play-date and they could all ge... on with the rest of the day. He looked to her. He saw the same disappointment stamped on her face. She wanted more, too. She wanted the same things he did. How do people do this? he asked himself. How do they get past all the pointless minutia, the fears, the wounds, the clutter? And then: a bell. No, it was a song. A simple children’s song rang. * * * Shortly after Madeline had gone to bed that night, Gerald knocked on her bedroom door and went in without waiting for a response. “Hey Mom,” he said. “We didn't get much time to talk tonight, so I thought I'd come in and say goodnight.” He walked over to her bed and sat down, angled to face her. Light from the hall shone across his mother's face and the shape of her body under the sheet. “Oh, goodnight Gerr--” Madeline broke off with a gasp. “Gerald! You're naked!” “Well, sure Mom. That's. More

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