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with the bedroom furniture as what had been there before. “It works,” said Ann, walking back through the front door with Sally in tow. “They’ll be very comfortable. Now, how about a caramel latte?”
    Sally nodded her head enthusiastically and then, heeling like a well-trained dog, she followed Ann back into the big house.
     
    After Sally left, Ann called Mike and left a message, reminding him to meet her and the children at Tony’s for dinner at seven o’clock. She then called Nate and Lauren and left the same message on their cell phones. That would give them more than an hour after football and volleyball practice to shower and drive to the restaurant. Ann told Nate to give his sister a ride, if he wanted his exorbitant car insurance paid that month. Nate would be furious with her interference, but Ann didn’t give this a second thought. She had no time to go to the high school to fetch Lauren.
    At four o’clock, when Tony’s opened for the evening, Ann called to make a reservation. She recognized Tony’s voice. “It’s Ann,” she said.
    “Well, hello, Mrs. Barons,” said Tony playfully. “Where have you been? Are you eating at The Chart House?”
    Ann blushed. “Just once,” she said. “We went once, and the food was terrible .”
    Tony laughed. “What can I do for you?”
    “I need a table for tonight,” said Ann.
    “I think I can arrange that.”
    “We need something off to the side,” said Ann. “We’ve got some news for the children and there may be some noise.”
    “Oh,” said Tony, “are you leaving them?”
    It was Ann’s turn to laugh. “My parents are moving in with us,” said Ann, “temporarily.”
    “In that case,” said Tony, “I’d better put you in the back room.”
    “I’ll see you tonight,” said Ann. “Seven o’clock.”
    “We’ll be ready,” said Tony before he hung up.
     
    Ann ran the bathwater and slowly took off her clothes. Naked, she walked into her closet. Hands on her slim hips, she glanced at her wardrobe. She chewed on her bottom lip; she had no idea what to wear. She walked back out of her closet and into the bathroom. She stepped onto her scale, already knowing she weighed 105 pounds. At five feet, five inches, she was considered very thin. Her doctor routinely advised her to gain ten pounds and warned her about osteoporosis, but Ann dismissed her advice. She would rather suffer a long list of ailments than put on ten pounds of blubber. She gazed at her reflection in the wall mirrors. While perimenopause was beginning to thicken the waists of some of her friends, Ann’s stomach was flat. Her breasts were circular, firm. Her muscular legs were void of fat, even her inner thighs. Her arms looked like they were cut from flesh-colored limestone. She spun around and looked at her backside. Her rear end was tiny and tight with no sign of flabby, disgusting cellulite, a miracle at her age.
    Ann walked up the two steps to reach her tub, and then stepped down into it. She lay back and let the bubbles envelop her. She closed her eyes and tried to predict the kids’ reaction to her news. Would they protest? Would they shrug and return to their dinners? Nate wouldn’t care; Ann couldn’t figure out what he cared about, if anything at all, except his independence. He had always been an independent child. As soon as he learned to walk, at eleven months, he wanted to be on his own. Ann used to chase him around the living room of their old house, both of them laughing as he increased his distance from her. He shunned his crib at two, preferring a “big boy bed” and a dark room for sleeping. There had been one episode of nightmares just past Nate’s fourth birthday that drove him into his mother’s arms. He cried out in the middle of the night, insisting on sleeping next to her and then moving his body into hers, attaching himself, so that they were more like one person than two. And while Ann had tried to whisper away his fears, she was selfishly