Brazen Virtue

followed her sister into the kitchen. “I went ahead and beefed up the salad from last night. It’s still the best thing I cook.”
    “Fine.” Kathleen was already lining a broiling pan with foil.
    “Want some wine?”

    “No, I’m working tonight.”
    “On the phone?”
    “That’s right. On the phone.” She slapped the meat onto the broiler.
    “Hey, Kath, I was asking, not criticizing.” When she got no response, Grace reached for the wine and topped off her glass. “Actually, it crossed my mind that I might be able to use what you’re doing as an angle in a book.”
    “You don’t change, do you?” Kathleen whirled around. In her eyes, the fury was hot and pulsing. “Nothing’s ever private where you’re concerned.”
    “For heaven’s sake, Kathy, I didn’t mean I’d use your name or even your situation, just the idea, that’s all. It was simply a thought.”
    “Everything’s grist for the mill, your mill. Maybe you’d like to use my divorce while you’re at it.”
    “I’ve never used you,” Grace said quietly.
    “You use everyone—friends, lovers, family. Oh, you sympathize with their pain and problems on the outside, but inside you’re ticking away, figuring how to make it work for you. Can’t you be told anything, see anything without thinking how you can use it in a book?”
    Grace opened her mouth to deny, to protest, then closed it again on a sigh. The truth, no matter how unattractive, was better faced. “No, I guess not. I’m sorry.”
    “Then drop it, all right?” Kathleen’s voice was abruptly calm again. “I don’t want to argue tonight.”
    “Neither do I.” Making the effort, she started fresh. “I was thinking I might rent a car while I’m here, play tourist a little. And if I was mobile, I could do the shopping and save you some time.”
    “Fine.” Kathleen switched the broiler on, shifting her body enough so that Grace couldn’t see her hand wasn’t steady. “There’s a Hertz place on the way to school. I could drop you off in the morning.”

    “Okay.” Now what, Grace asked herself as she sipped her wine. “Oh, I met the guy next door this morning.”
    “I’m sure you did.” Her voice was taut as she slid the meat under the flame. She was surprised Grace hadn’t made friends with everyone in the entire neighborhood by now.
    Grace sipped her wine and worked on her temper. It was usually she who lost it first, she remembered. This time she wouldn’t. “He’s very nice. Turns out to be a cop. We’re having dinner tomorrow.”
    “Isn’t that lovely.” Kathleen slammed a pot on the stove and added water. “You work fast, Gracie, as usual.”
    Grace took another slow sip, then set her glass carefully on the counter. “I think I’ll go for a walk.”
    “I’m sorry.” With her eyes closed, Kathleen leaned against the stove. “I didn’t mean that, I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
    “All right.” She wasn’t always quick to forgive, but she only had one sister. “Why don’t you sit down? You’re tired.”
    “No, I’m on call tonight. I want to get this done before the phone starts ringing.”
    “I’ll do it. You can supervise.” She took her sister’s arm and nudged her into a chair. “What goes in the pan?”
    “There’s a package in the bag.” Kathleen dug in her purse, pulled out a bottle, and shook out two pills.
    Grace dipped in the grocery bag and took out an envelope. “Noodles in garlic sauce. Handy.” She ripped it open and dumped it in without reading the directions. “I’d just as soon you didn’t jump down my throat again, but do you want to talk about it?”
    “No, it was just a long day.” She dry-swallowed the pills. “I’ve got papers to grade.”
    “Well, I won’t be able to do you any good there. I could take the phone calls for you.”
    Kathleen managed a smile. “No, thanks.”
    Grace took out the salad bowl and set it on the table. “Maybe I could just take notes.”

    “No. If you don’t stir those noodles, they’ll stick.”
    “Oh.” Willing to oblige, Grace turned to them. In the silence, she heard the meat begin to sizzle. “Easter’s next week. Don’t you get a few days off?”
    “Five, counting the weekend.”
    “Why don’t we take a quick trip, join the madness in Fort Lauderdale, get some sun?”
    “I can’t afford it.”
    “My treat, Kath. Come on, it’d be fun. Remember the spring of our senior year when we begged and pleaded with Mom and Dad to let us