When I was younger, I don’t think I even registered the Faustian bargain Carol had to make in order to be with Therese. I hardly recall reading any of the maternal scenes between Carol and her daughter—my 23-year-old mind must have turned to static as I read those passages. What mattered most was everything that happened between these two women, including the many naps I’d hoped would turn into make-out sessions during their get-togethers at Carol’s New Jersey home.