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cheeks and the downcast eyes. "Ms. Rand, may I see your hand?" |
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Kyna clasped her hands together in her lap. |
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"Ms. Rand, I know what Kazie's son does for a living." |
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Kyna's head snapped up and her eyes became frantic. |
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Now it was Cyrus's turn to look confused. "Kazie's son? What has he got to do with anything?" |
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Paula's eyes went from Kyna to Cyrus and then back. |
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"I am going into the front for a few minutes," Paula said. "I think you two should talk. It is time for all secrets to be put aside. If you two are going to survive what's coming, you are going to have to work together and take care of each other. Trust! Trust is essential." |
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Paula got up without another word and vanished through the curtain. |
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A mixture of mascara and fat salty tears dripped onto the front of Kyna's white cotton blouse. |
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"Come on, babe," Cyrus crooned. "What's the matter?" |
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He got up and went to the coffee machine and came back with a handful of paper napkins. |
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"My mother always told me to keep a handkerchief handy, but I never listened." |
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She grabbed the napkins and buried her face in them, sobbing so hard that her shoulders shook like she had a fever. |
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"Honey, what is it?" Cyrus whispered. |
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Kyna looked up. Her nose was dripping and her eye shadow had run in streaks down her face so that she looked like some poor soggy jungle cat. |
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"I . . . I must look horhorhorrible!" |
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She broke into another fit of tears. |
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Cyrus was old enough to know there was a time for honesty and a time for diplomacy; this was not the time for honesty. He scooted his chair over beside her and draped his arm over her shoulder. "Don't be silly. You're beautiful. You're always beautiful to me." |
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She rested her head on his shoulder, nestling her wet face into his neck. "Oh, Russ. You're going to hate me," she |
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