anyone.â He waited a beat. When no one spoke up his shoulders went slack and his head slumped forward onto his chest. He started fishing around in his pants pocket for something. Rita had opened a drawer and pulled out a little accordion folder where she kept her coupons organized, and was flipping through it with a fingernail.
âIâll do it,â Kim said. She pushed the newspaper into a pile and pushed it away from her. âIâll be the subject.â
The kitchen went silent again. Kim could feel the skewering looks of the women in the room. At this point she was enjoying them. Sheâd broken the noninterference code, compromised the unified front.
The look Rita rested on Kim was one of tart curiosity. Kim didnât look away from it. Rita still had her fingers in her coupon book. She cleared her throat, and quickly enough she was smiling again. There was something brave in her smile nowadays.
âAll right then,â she said. âI guess thatâs settled.â She pulled what she needed out of the coupon book and placed it back in the drawer, which she closed very softly. Then she reached for her purse and gave the contents a shake. âFranklin, it looks like youâre going to slide by again.â She removed her wallet from her purse and found some cash. âTake this,â she said to him. âIf Kimâs giving up her day for you, you can at least buy her lunch.â
âThatâs not necessary,â Kim said, but Franklin was already accepting the bills and stuffing them into one of his pockets.
The rest of the women were gathering up their phones and sunglasses. âWe could try Barbette for lunch,â one of them offered uncertainly. âTheyâre supposed to have really good soups.â Franklin smirked at Kim and returned to his lemonade, sniffing it and adding more sugar.
âIsnât Gauguin the one that molested all those island girls?â Rita asked.
âThatâs what they say,â said Kim.
âIn Tahiti or whatever. Thatâs him, right? He was always having his way with the natives.â
âThere was so much molesting going on in those days,â said Kim. âHardly seems fair to keep bringing it up.â
She excused herself and went upstairs, her blood quickening with escape. She couldnât be around Ritaâs new friends another minute. She reached the landing without a backward glance and strode down the hallway. The second floor of the house was a whole different kingdom. It smelled different up here, like brand-new furniture, like bamboo.
In the shower she rubbed herself up with gel, breathing the steam. She soaped her thighs, her shoulders, massaged the back of her neck. Kim still liked her body. Her lips were plump and her legs were firm and shapely. Her skin was soft enough. A stranger would never have guessed that sheâd used up more than half of her thirties.
She stayed in the shower long after sheâd rinsed off, enjoying the warmth, and then she stepped out onto a plush teal rug, water streaming off her. The mirror and fixtures were fogged. She wrapped a towel around herself and wandered into the closet connected to the guest bathroom, dripping on the carpet among a hundred dresses, many with their tags still on. Thiswas Ritaâs runoff area, for the clothes that wouldnât fit in her primary closet. Kim thought of her own cramped bedroom closet back in Galesburg, her bulky coats and worn sundresses. She couldnât have fit another hanger in there, yet she didnât own one article of clothing she still liked.
Staying in Galesburg had never been the plan, of course, and she thought about this often nowâjust how sheâd wound up where she was. When sheâd graduated, the part-time position sheâd taken as a senior in college had been offered to her full time. She could still remember how grateful sheâd been. Sheâd wanted money, not more loans.