concerning Clara. Tell him I need only a moment. I wanted to know if he was treating her for any ailment."
"There was something," said Fiona. She used her glass and gestured with a rummy lushness.
"Was there?"
"He used to stop over there in the morning. She needed medication or something." Fiona waved her free hand about, suggesting the way Nate, probably, had put her off.
"Ah-ha." As he suspected. Stern held still. Then, fortitled to Iearn he was right, rose to go.
"Oh, you can't leave yet. Remember? I wanted to ask you somethings"
"Just so," said Stern. He had indeed forgotten.
She went into another room and returned with a small package.
"Sandy, you're probably not ready for this yet, but when you are, you have to let me introduce you to Phoebe Brower.
She is charming. And you'd have things in common. Her husband, you know--" Fiona fiddled a hand and wriggled her features. "Sleeping pills."
He could not quite remain silent--some sound escaped him, a noise of sorts. If Fiona were not drunk, or Fiona, he might have actually taken offense. Perhaps she thought he was starting a club. Unbearable Spouses Anonymous. He recognized the wrapper of the local camera store on the package Fiona was holding. Photos, too? There should be a sign up on his house. Decommissioned. Shipwrecked. Out of use.
"As you say, Fiona. It i's much too soon."
She shrugged. "I would Really, Stern was tiring already of these conventional efforts to orchestrate his feelings.
As she handed him his drink, he asked if she was well. "Oh, me? I'm just ducky," said Fiona, and looked into her glass.
Stern recalled now that he had determined years ago, without reflection, not to ask Fiona such questions. The dog was pawing about and growling in the kitchen, where he had been shut up; you could hear his claws racing on the tiles. "What is it you wanted with Nate?"
'I merely had a question or two concerning Clara. Tell him I need only a moment. I wanted to know if he was treating her for any ailment."
"There was something," said Fiona. She used her glass and gestured with a rummy lushness.
"Was there?"
"He used to stop over there in the morning. She needed medication or something." Fiona waved her free hand about, suggesting the way Nate, probably, had put her off.
"Ah-ha." As he suspected. Stern held still. Then, fortitled to Iearn he was right, rose to go.
"Oh, you can't leave yet. Remember? I wanted to ask you somethings"
"Just so," said Stern. He had indeed forgotten.
She went into another room and returned with a small package.
"Sandy, you're probably not ready for this yet, but when you are, you have to let me introduce you to Phoebe Brower.
She is charming. And you'd have things in common. Her husband, you know--" Fiona fiddled a hand and wriggled her features. "Sleeping pills."
He could not quite remain silent--some sound escaped him, a noise of sorts. If Fiona were not drunk, or Fiona, he might have actually taken offense. Perhaps she thought he was starting a club. Unbearable Spouses Anonymous. He recognized the wrapper of the local camera store on the package Fiona was holding. Photos, too? There should be a sign up on his house. Decommissioned. Shipwrecked. Out of use.
"As you say, Fiona. It i's much too soon."
She shrugged. "I would think that's something most men would look forward to. Being on the loose again."
Well, they had done fairly well until now, but Fiona was veering off the road. Stern slapped his thighs, a sign he was ready to be on his way.
"Perhaps you are correct, Fiona. Women always know better about men."
"Don't humor me, Sandy. You do that too much. I have a reason for asking."
She was masterful, no doubt about that. Stern sat silent, watching, as Fiona at last drew herself together.
"Sandy, I want you to look at this. I need to ask you a question." She offered the package.
"What is it, Fiona?"
She shook her head. Just look at it, she said. She had no wish to explain. Somehow he had a powerful sense of
"There was something," said Fiona. She used her glass and gestured with a rummy lushness.
"Was there?"
"He used to stop over there in the morning. She needed medication or something." Fiona waved her free hand about, suggesting the way Nate, probably, had put her off.
"Ah-ha." As he suspected. Stern held still. Then, fortitled to Iearn he was right, rose to go.
"Oh, you can't leave yet. Remember? I wanted to ask you somethings"
"Just so," said Stern. He had indeed forgotten.
She went into another room and returned with a small package.
"Sandy, you're probably not ready for this yet, but when you are, you have to let me introduce you to Phoebe Brower.
She is charming. And you'd have things in common. Her husband, you know--" Fiona fiddled a hand and wriggled her features. "Sleeping pills."
He could not quite remain silent--some sound escaped him, a noise of sorts. If Fiona were not drunk, or Fiona, he might have actually taken offense. Perhaps she thought he was starting a club. Unbearable Spouses Anonymous. He recognized the wrapper of the local camera store on the package Fiona was holding. Photos, too? There should be a sign up on his house. Decommissioned. Shipwrecked. Out of use.
"As you say, Fiona. It i's much too soon."
She shrugged. "I would Really, Stern was tiring already of these conventional efforts to orchestrate his feelings.
As she handed him his drink, he asked if she was well. "Oh, me? I'm just ducky," said Fiona, and looked into her glass.
Stern recalled now that he had determined years ago, without reflection, not to ask Fiona such questions. The dog was pawing about and growling in the kitchen, where he had been shut up; you could hear his claws racing on the tiles. "What is it you wanted with Nate?"
'I merely had a question or two concerning Clara. Tell him I need only a moment. I wanted to know if he was treating her for any ailment."
"There was something," said Fiona. She used her glass and gestured with a rummy lushness.
"Was there?"
"He used to stop over there in the morning. She needed medication or something." Fiona waved her free hand about, suggesting the way Nate, probably, had put her off.
"Ah-ha." As he suspected. Stern held still. Then, fortitled to Iearn he was right, rose to go.
"Oh, you can't leave yet. Remember? I wanted to ask you somethings"
"Just so," said Stern. He had indeed forgotten.
She went into another room and returned with a small package.
"Sandy, you're probably not ready for this yet, but when you are, you have to let me introduce you to Phoebe Brower.
She is charming. And you'd have things in common. Her husband, you know--" Fiona fiddled a hand and wriggled her features. "Sleeping pills."
He could not quite remain silent--some sound escaped him, a noise of sorts. If Fiona were not drunk, or Fiona, he might have actually taken offense. Perhaps she thought he was starting a club. Unbearable Spouses Anonymous. He recognized the wrapper of the local camera store on the package Fiona was holding. Photos, too? There should be a sign up on his house. Decommissioned. Shipwrecked. Out of use.
"As you say, Fiona. It i's much too soon."
She shrugged. "I would think that's something most men would look forward to. Being on the loose again."
Well, they had done fairly well until now, but Fiona was veering off the road. Stern slapped his thighs, a sign he was ready to be on his way.
"Perhaps you are correct, Fiona. Women always know better about men."
"Don't humor me, Sandy. You do that too much. I have a reason for asking."
She was masterful, no doubt about that. Stern sat silent, watching, as Fiona at last drew herself together.
"Sandy, I want you to look at this. I need to ask you a question." She offered the package.
"What is it, Fiona?"
She shook her head. Just look at it, she said. She had no wish to explain. Somehow he had a powerful sense of
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