Chapter 1 REID My thoughts upon becoming ful y conscious: first, shit, I’m in the hospital again, and second, how bad is the damage to my one-week-old Porsche? “I see you’re awake.” That would be Dad, stating the obvious—a skil at which he excels. “Oh, honey, I’m so glad you’re okay.” A warm hand grasps mine, and I turn towards Mom’s voice out of a natural inclination to ignore my father. Especial y to his face. My satisfaction lurches to a stop when I see Mom’s eyes, swol en and red-rimmed, and her mouth, clamped tight in a failed attempt to restrict the trembling of her lower lip. Unfortunately, this isn’t an absurd maternal response. If memory serves, I had a little too much to drink and then crashed my car into a house. Not one of my more reassuring exploits. In a futile effort to divert attention from the bodily-harm part of my vehicular mishap, I ask, “Um, how’s the car?” “How’s the car? How’s the car?” Dad’s eyebrows almost meet his receding hairline. “That’s what you choose to inquire about first, after this debacle? Do you have any notion of the destruction of property you’ve caused, not to mention what you may have done to your career?” Would it have been that hard to just tel me the damned thing was totaled?