” Lucy finished Michelle’s sentence and steeled her resolve, drawing herself up to a straighter posture. Lassitude?” “I suppose so. Lucy sat paralyzed, as still as Tiger Lily on the death raft. Water poured into her eyes, nose, and mouth in a torrent from which she had to turn and wheeze. She found it rather funny that he always wore the shirt fastidiously tucked in and never wore the ensemble without a stiff brown leather belt. “No. Brown strode to center stage and Lucy quieted the instruments with a gesture. “Like what, Lucy?” She saw the panic threaten to overtake him. But for perfect satisfaction, he must take a peek into the bedroom. “Thank goodness!” said that retreating aspect, “that’s said and over.
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