The real Donna Trembley couldn't get her mother's ugly words out of her mind.
How could she, no, how dare she, talk to me like that? Donna thought. She's just jealous because she can see that I'm going to have a better life than she ever had. I'm not going to marry some grease monkey and have three kids, live in some crappy house in this dead end town.
If only Donna had the maturity, rather than the ignorant blindness of youth, to judge her own attitudes, she would've been reduced to tears. If she understood how much that "grease monkey," as she so rudely referred to her father, cared about his family, she would have wished for half as wonderful a husband for herself.
Like anyone who takes for granted the things she's been so freely given in life (the very things for which others
