Dee stood in the kitchen of her house on 3rd Street. No kids, no husband..it was quiet. She felt guilty..at first. She had not been in the house without her kids for this long. She stood there..alone, watching the sunlight filter through the tree. Then she put on her white socks, placed the Platters on the record player, threw back the rugs from the old hard-wood floors, turned up the sound..and began dancing to "You've Got The Magic Touch." She pretended to be the lead singer on "Smoke Get's In Your Eyes", and on "I'm Sorry". She had a big party all to herself. She sang with Nat King Cole on "Ramblin Rose" and then went wild with Mahalia Jackson on"Joshua Fit the Battle of Jericho". She heated up the tuna casserole and had a few bites, swallowed a few shots of her husbands "Canadian Mist"....which he hid under the sink, and fell off to sleep listening to Patty Page singing "Let Me Call You Sweeheart".
Dee had been released from a psych ward the day before...her best friend brought her home, as her husband was working out of town..as usual. She knew that her children would be home in a few days..apparently they had been sent to relatives in Illinois and South Dakota...after she had apparently "gone crazy". She should have done it a few years earlier..it might have saved her.