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Rated: 13+ · Book · Relationship · #910017
Finishing Touches and Final Strokes in one edition.
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#338975 added April 4, 2005 at 9:47am
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chapter 10

Dwelling on the question kept her sullen throughout the day. Trevor spent much of it working on his art and she left him alone to do so. It would help him work it out of his system, if she didn’t interfere. Her children had missed her, apparently, since they clung to and followed her even while getting supper. She wasn’t in the mood for it, wanting to indulge her sulking while he was. But their little faces kept her from shooing them away, instead giving them small tasks to do to help. Anna played in the water in the sink, with the ruse of washing potatoes. Jenna had to bite her toungue about the splashing down the side of the cabinets and onto the floor. They were painted and over-varnished. It wouldn’t hurt them, she supposed. If they had owned the place instead of renting, she would have stripped and refinished them long ago. But then, she’d have to worry more about them getting soaked, so it was just as well.

Aaron got the job of tearing lettuce. He did well with it, as finicky as he was about doing things, as his father had been, but he was taking forever. It didn’t really matter, since the meatloaf and potatoes would take much longer, anyway, but she had to force herself not to think about the time he was taking and about how much easier it was to cook when she was alone in the tiny kitchen area. Some day, an actual house with a separate spacy kitchen would be nice. She couldn’t begin to imagine being able to afford it, though, not on her salary.

Needing some mental space, she stepped away, lifting Anna to the floor amidst the child’s protesting that they weren’t clean yet, promising she could clean more in a minute. On her salary, as an assistant. Maybe Trevor was right. She stood in front of her windows looking down on the city. Maybe she should start taking classes and work toward more than that. If she had to go back to being on her own with the kids eventually, she’d have a rough time, and most likely couldn’t do it in Chicago. She might have to move back home. At the moment, it didn’t seem like a bad idea. She would have plenty of help. Alan was there, and Carrie could stay in the loft with her, at least for a while. The loft was owned, not rented. A gift to Daniel from his mother when he’d moved out. Carrie paid enough rent while living there to cover the real estate tax and not much more than that. Jenna didn’t want to make money off of her friend.

Alan. Jenna shook her head. She was counting on leaning on him again, as Trevor had hinted at. No wonder he questioned her about him. But they were friends. What was wrong with it? Would it be different if it were Karla?

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/338975