Good Days
It is a rare good day in the Goodman house. Diana's meds are working for once, and she and 12-year-old Natalie are sitting on the couch, talking.
"What was I like as a baby, Mom?" Natalie asks eagerly. She's always wanted answers to this question, but Diana's never been in good enough condition to reply, and Dan just sighs and shakes his head when she asks.
"Huh." Diana frowns, searching her memories. "I don't remember. I remember not holding you in the hospital, but—"
"You didn't hold me in the hospital?" Natalie shouts. "Not even when I was a little baby who hadn't done anything to you, you couldn't hold me? Did you ever love me? Ever?" She doesn't wait for a response, just storms off to her room, fuming.
"I…" Diana stares emptily in the direction Natalie stomped off into. "I just didn't want to hurt you like I did to your brother."
It really shouldn't be such a surprise that good days in the Goodman house end so quickly.