“You should meet my parents sometime. No love for Lincoln Center, but you can’t keep em away from the Met.”

“You kidding, Elaine, Ernie? we go back, we used to show up at the same demonstrations.”

“My mother demonstrated? What for, a discount someplace?”

“Nicaragua,” unamused, “Salvador. Ronald Raygun and his little pals.”

This was when Maxine was living at home, getting her degree, sneaking out into weekend club-drug mindlessness, and only noticing at the time that Elaine and Ernie seemed a little distracted. It wasn’t till years later that they felt comfortable about sharing their memories of plastic handcuffs, pepper spray, unmarked vans, the Finest doing what cops do best.

“Making me the Insensitive Daughter once again. They must’ve picked up some some tell, some shortfall in my character.”