Roz wakes from a dream about being naked and searching for clothes; at least it was not a dream about Zenia or Mitch, she thinks. As she stumbles out of her big, frilly, four-poster bed—“The bed looks like a bassinet or a wedding cake” (79)—she thinks about making some life changes, starting with her bedroom décor. Roz performs her morning ablutions but is still dissatisfied with her reflection in the mirror. With Mitch gone, she struggles to relax comfortably into middle age. She thinks about dying her hair gray from its current red, hoping it will bestow some air of respectability. She goes downstairs to the kitchen where her twin daughters await. She bemoans the passage of time, remembering them as toddlers to whom she read fairy tales before they became cynical teenagers given to obscene insults. Despite this, she loves them fiercely and wonders how they feel about Mitch. Thinking of him, she begins to weep.

Roz eats a spare breakfast while thinking of Mitch and Zenia—specifically, Zenia’s fake breasts and Mitch’s infatuation with them. Roz would rather age gracefully than fight nature with constant nips and tucks. She finishes breakfast and walks past Larry, her eldest’s room.