Authors: John Farris
“There always seemed to be something wrong with the one in Washington,” she said. “I suppose it’s just because I’ve always been a homegrown girl. Why do you think I came back here, you?” There was a sudden joyful lilt in her voice.
“I—can’t even ask,” Practice said miserably.
“He’s losing his hair,” she said scornfully to nobody, and then she wheeled and faced him, her eyes glinting in the dark. She came slowly toward him, and as she approached, there was a change in her face; she was more than beautiful, she was real and adoring, and more than a little lonely herself.
They raised their hands and touched them together, palm against palm.
“Take me home,” Lucy said gently. “I’ll show you how the rest should go.”