Parker had been sure to make certain that her parents adored him, bringing her mother fresh flowers and her father a Hennessy Cognac and box of Montecristo No. 2 cigars when they’d visit. After dinner, her father and Parker would stand around smoking cigars and drinking brandy, talking business and money. She would help her mother clear the table and listen to her drone on and on about how wonderful Parker was. It always turned her stomach as she bit her tongue for the hundredth time, not wanting to go into the horrible details of the reality of her marriage. Her mother wouldn’t understand anyway, she thought. She was a bite your lip, save face kind of woman. Do what the husband wants, be his puppet, make him happy; the hell with that, she
