Authors: Debra Shiveley Welch
Jo
-A
nn
wal
k
e
d
o
v
er
t
o
t
h
e
crack
e
d
,
sc
a
r
r
ed,
gre
e
n
v
i
n
y
l
lou
n
g
e
r, and
g
ro
a
ni
n
g
,
sa
n
k
i
n
to
h
e
r
chair,
h
e
r
r
i
g
h
t
ha
n
d
ho
l
di
n
g
a
n
i
d
e
n
tical g
l
ass
t
o
t
h
e
on
e c
o
n
t
ain
in
g
t
h
e
u
n
to
uch
e
d
dri
nk
i
n
L
e
na
’
s
h
an
d
.
“
You
h
a
v
e a l
o
t
o
f w
o
rk
to
d
o
, Le
n
a
, b
u
t in
a way y
o
u’re a
h
ead of me.
I
have
these
nice
appli
a
nces,
m
y
fake
bea
m
s,
cheap
carpeting
and v
i
n
y
l
f
loo
r
in
g,
but
I
pa
i
d
a
l
o
t
m
o
re
f
o
r
m
y
un
it
.
B
y
t
h
e
t
i
m
e
y
ou
ca
m
e
alo
n
g,
t
h
e
o
w
ner
j
u
st
wan
te
d
t
o
get
t
h
e
u
n
it
s
so
l
d
.
I
n
t
h
e
e
n
d
,
yo
u
’
l
l
co
m
e out
o
n
t
o
p.”
Lena
l
o
ok
e
d
at
h
e
r
a
n
d
s
m
iled.
“
Y
o
u
t
h
i
nk
so
?
Well,
t
h
a
n
k
y
ou,
J
o
-A
n
n
.
I
t
is
a
bit
ove
r
w
hel
m
ing, but
I
t
h
i
n
k
I
can.
.
..
.
h
a
ndle
.
.
.
..it.
J
o
-A
n
n
,
t
h
er
e
’
s
a
cat
s
i
tting
o
n
y
o
u
r st
ov
e
with its back
to
m
e.
It l
o
o
k
s l
i
k
e it’s a
n
gry
o
r
s
o
m
et
h
i
n
g!”
J
o
-A
n
n
lit
a
M
arlb
o
ro
a
n
d
g
l
a
n
ced
to
h
er
left
w
h
ere
t
h
e
s
t
ov
e
was sit
u
ate
d
.
In
d
e
e
d
,
yet
a
no
t
h
e
r
feli
n
e,
t
h
is
a
g
rey,
str
i
p
ed,
l
o
ng
h
air,
sat
in t
h
e
m
iddle
of
t
h
e
stov
e
,
ba
c
k
t
o
w
ar
d
Lena
and
v
e
ry
def
i
nitely
in
a
sni
t
, her
hairs
s
t
a
ndi
ng
o
n
e
n
d
,
a
n
d
a
fai
n
t g
r
owl e
mit
t
i
ng
fr
o
m
her
th
roat.
J
o
- A
n
n
la
u
g
h
e
d,
t
ak
in
g
a g
e
ne
ro
us
s
i
p of h
e
r d
ri
nk.
“
Oh,
that’s
M
a
ud
e
.
She’s
an
gry
wi
t
h
you
because
you’re sitting
in her
cha
i
r!”
L
ena
l
o
o
k
e
d
at
Jo
-A
n
n
,
w
h
o
c
o
u
n
ter
e
d
with
a
larg
e
,
t
oo
t
hy gr
i
n
.
“
Y
o
u
have
got
to
be
k
i
dd
i
n
g
!”
L
e
na
res
po
nd
e
d,
l
a
u
g
hi
ng
.
“
W
ell, please
exte
n
d
m
y apologies,
if
y
ou
d
o
n
’t m
in
d
.
I certai
n
ly
d
i
d
n
’t
m
ean
to take
Mada
m
’s
chair!”
She
ch
ortled.
Jo
-A
nn rais
e
d her glas
s
.
“
Salut!” she
e
x
clai
m
ed,
a
n
d
qu
a
ff
e
d
an
oth
e
r p
o
rti
o
n
o
f her
d
ri
n
k. Lena
li
f
t
ed
her
o
w
n
g
l
ass
t
o
her
n
o
se
a
n
d
sm
el
l
ed.
It
had
a
fai
n
tl
y
floral a
r
o
m
a,
ove
r
r
i
d
den by a
str
o
ng
s
m
ell of
alco
h
o
l,
d
e
fin
i
tely pu
n
gent, but
J
o
-
A
n
n
w
a
s
dr
i
nk
i
ng
it
so
s
m
oothl
y
,
it
m
u
st
be
fine.
She
ti
p
ped
t
h
e glass
to
h
e
r
m
ou
t
h
a
nd
t
o
ok
a
l
o
n
g
s
i
p.
H
er
fi
r
st
reacti
o
n
was
t
h
at
t
h
e