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