"Daddy, I didn't mean for any of this to happen." Jim leans against the edge of his chair; smoke rising from his pipe hanging out the corner of his mouth, he looks Jen straight in the eye. Trails of smoke arise like a vapor in the dense air. "You didn't mean for this to happen?" He blows out the smoke he just inhaled. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Jen shrugs her shoulders. "Ever heard of birth control, young lady?" Jen, glassy-eyed, looks at Jim: "You should be the one to talk about birth control. Hell, you've condemned it since I was 13!" Just then, Jim's open-hand slapped a crack across her cheek. Jen looks down. Her left hand over her red cheek, she's sobbing uncontrollably. Eleanor interrupts the tense conversation. "Jim!
