STEPFATHER: She looks like a little slut!
GIRL: Mom!
MOTHER: (Sighs heavily and turns to dry dishes.)
STEPFATHER: Don't raise your voice to your mother!
GIRL: I wasn't! (Turns to Mother, pleading.) Mom! You heard what he said! Are you going to just let him call me a slut?
MOTHER: Look, I'm tired of being in the middle of you two! Can't you just go play or something?
STEPFATHER: She's not going anywhere looking like that.
GIRL: Play!? Mom, I have my choir concert tonight. You know that! You're going, aren't you?
MOTHER: Do you have to wear so much make-up, honey? Maybe you could wipe some of that rouge off, at least. (Wets a paper towel and heads toward girl's face.)
GIRL: Mom, no! I spent an hour getting ready! (Looks down.) And it's called 'blush,' not rouge.
STEPFATHER: That's it! (Out of control, voice gets hysterical shrill quality.) You're not going anywhere! You can just get back up to your room! (Pause for power glare.) And you can forget about going to your dad's this weekend, too.
GIRL: (Starts to cry, fights to stay calm.) Mom? He can't do that! And I have to go tonight---we've been rehearsing all semester...
STEPFATHER: You should've thought about that before smarting off to your mother. (Leans back against kitchen counter, picking at his teeth with a toothpick.) Now get upstairs and wipe that crap off your face.
MOTHER: (Turns to Stepfather.) Honey, really, don't you think you're being a little harsh? This is her big concert, after all.
GIRL: I have a solo.
MOTHER: What if she apologizes, sweetie? I'm sure she's sorry, aren't you? (Gives girl an instructive look.)
GIRL: Mom---I didn't do anything! He's the one that called me a slut. How can you let him talk to your own kid like that? It's not right! (Looks defiantly terrified.) Please mom!
MOTHER: (Angry.) What do you want me to do about it!? Jesus, you're always putting me in the middle!
STEPFATHER: You wouldn't be if you'd quit letting the little liar suck you in. The little bitch manipulates you and you buy it hook, line, and sinker. Just look at her. (Girl is standing frozen, not looking at him, tears streaming down her face.) (Screams at girl:) Look at me when I'm talking to you goddammit!!!
GIRL: (Loses composure, yells into stepfather's face.) You weren't even talking to me, you idiot! And I thought only sinners used the Lord's name in vain, you fucking hypocrite!
MOTHER: (Screams.) Stop it!
(Stepfather has already back-handed girl across the face. She slams backward into the cupboards and stays frozen, hand to her cheek.)
STEPFATHER: (Shrieking.) Keep it up! Keep it up! There's more where that came from!
MOTHER: Oh my god, I can't take it anymore! Dear Lord (she looks Heavenward), you know I've tried, but I am too weak for this challenge you've lain before me! I can't go on another day like this, torn between them, always the referee between my daughter and my husband. (Breaks down sobbing.)
STEPFATHER: (To girl.) Look what you've done to your mother! (He walks over to Mother, puts arm around her, and she melts into him gratefully. Buries her face in his shoulder.) If you're going to your concert, stand up and wipe off your face. (Picks up the wetted paper towel from the floor and hands it to girl.) I'll drop you off.
