He broke into the place and hauled
him down from the rafters.
I loved my baby brother. Sometimes I loved him more than
myself. When we were young I d often take a punch meant for
him， or try to. So when my mother asked for help， I thought of
him， not her.
She called me at my office and I very nearly didn t take the call.
She had come to New York a month ago and I had had more than
my fill of her then. I shouted at my assistant for putting the call
through without asking. Then I picked up the line. I always felt as
if the receiver was about to bite me.
Cathy? Catherine， call me Catherine.
Yes， Mother? I was abrupt.
Oh darling... A sigh relaxing into a pit of misery and then she
was sobbing.
That I wasn t expecting. She could whimp4\"c and whine and
complain and sigh with the best of them， she c h~. lled and picked
at us endlessly， but she hadn t cried for years. I~lbt in front of me
anyway.