“Oh,” Pete said, still somewhat confused as he stood in the hall, the light dawning. “Oh I see.”
“So I’ll see you Friday for class, yes?” Pilar turned and walked clickety clack down the hall. She did not look back.
By the time Pilar arrived at the art center and Claire’s class, she had calmed down. She would go home to Frank Stone; that’s what she would do. She sighed, letting the air out of
herself like a deflating balloon.
“Hi Honey . . . let’s get you lying down again . . . just like last time?” Claire drawled from her desk, not even looking at her as she flipped through student work. “Get
all comfy, now, okay, honey?”
Pilar nodded, and opened up her robe. She heard a small but distinct intake of breath from the back, as she lay down, again on her side. She rested her head on her
