nnounced。 He vanished；
then reappeared and deposited the car…wash gear on the sandy grass
beside the very same porch on which she sat。
Would he do it here？ she wondered。 The smooth hum of his car's engine as
he pulled the vehicle close by the side of the house was her answer。
He wanted an audience； the rat。
She should have gotten up and left； but she sat right there in the large
wood…slatted porch chair； watching while he put his best effort into
washing； drying； and polishing his sporty brown BMW As he stretched to
soap the roof； the muscles of his shoulders bunched。 When he squatted to
scrub the whitewalls； the muscles of his thighs swelled。 When he reached
across the front windshield； his shirt separated from his jeans； giving
fleeting； devastating glimpses of a flat； hard belly。 And through it all
was the sight of hands and forearms at work； lightly tanned； softly
haired。
When Chloe had taken as much as she could； she stacked her papers into a
pie； left the chair； and； without a word to explain her sudden
departure； went into the house。 To clean？ She hated to clean！ How else；
though； to expend some of the nervous energy that had gathered inside？
She swept the floors and vacuumed the carpets； all at doublespeed； all
with every bit of elbow grease she could muster。 Tables； chairs；
countertops； and shelves met similar fates beneath her dustcloth。
Perspiration beaded on her upper lip。 She barely noticed。
The football game offered a different torment； but one that was no less
agonizing。 She was polishing the aged oak banister halfway to the second
floor when the familiar sound waited up； and she san
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