Brazen Virtue

as well.” She linked arms with Kathleen. “Well, show me the rest.”
    The interior wasn’t as much of a surprise. Kathleen preferred things neat and orderly. The furniture was sturdy, dust-free, and tasteful. Just like Kathleen, Grace thought with a twinge of regret. Still, she liked the hodgepodge of small rooms that seemed to tumble into each other.
    Kathleen had turned one into an office. The desk still shone with newness. She’d taken nothing with her, Grace thought. Not even her son. Though she found it odd that Kathleen should indulge in a phone on the desk and another a few feet away beside a chair, she didn’t comment. Knowing Kathleen, the reason would make perfect sense.
    “Spaghetti sauce.” The scent led Grace unerringly into the kitchen. If anyone had asked her to name her favorite pastimes, eating would have topped the list.

    The kitchen was as spotless as the rest of the house. If Grace made bets, she’d wager there wasn’t a crumb to be found in the toaster. Leftovers woud be neatly sealed and labeled in the refrigerator and glasses would be arranged according to size in the cupboards. That was Kathleen’s way, and Kathleen hadn’t changed a whit in thirty years.
    Grace hoped she’d remembered to wipe her feet as she crossed the aging linoleum. Lifting the lid off a slow cooker, she breathed in, long and deep. “I’d say you haven’t lost your touch.”
    “It came back to me.” Even after years of cooks and servants. “Hungry?” Then, for the first time, her smile seemed genuine and relaxed. “Why do I ask?”
    “Wait, I’ve got something.”
    As her sister dashed back into the hall, Kathleen turned to the window. Why was she suddenly aware of how empty the house had been now that Grace was in it? What magic did her sister have that filled a room, a house, an arena? And what in God’s name was she going to do when she was alone again?
    “Valpolicella,” Grace announced as she came back into the room. “As you can see, I was counting on Italian.” When Kathleen turned from the window, the tears were just starting. “Oh, honey.” With the bottle still in her hand, Grace rushed forward.
    “Gracie, I miss him so much. Sometimes I think I could die.”
    “I know you do. Oh, baby, I know. I’m so sorry.” She stroked the hair Kathleen brushed firmly back. “Let me help, Kathleen. Tell me what I can do.”
    “There’s nothing.” The effort cost more than she would have admitted, but she stopped the tears. “I’d better make the salad.”
    “Hold on.” With one hand on her sister’s arm, Grace led her to the small kitchen table. “Sit. I mean it, Kathleen.”

    Though she was older by a year, Kathleen bowed before authority. That was something else that had become a habit. “I really don’t want to talk about it, Grace.”
    “I guess that’s too bad then. Corkscrew?”
    “Top drawer left of the sink.”
    “Glasses?”
    “Second shelf, cabinet next to the refrigerator.”
    Grace opened the bottle. Though the sky was darkening, she didn’t bother with the kitchen light. After setting a glass in front of Kathleen, she filled it to just below the rim. “Drink. It’s damn good stuff.” She found an empty Kraft mayonnaise jar, just where her mother would have kept them, and removed the lid for an ashtray. She knew how much Kathleen disapproved of smoking and had been determined to be on her best behavior. Like most of Grace’s vows to herself, this one was easily broken. She lit a cigarette, poured her own wine, and then took a seat. “Talk to me, Kathy. I’ll only badger you until you do.”
    She would, too. Kathleen had known that before she’d agreed to let her come. Perhaps that was why she had agreed. “I didn’t want the separation. And you don’t have to say I’m stupid to want to hang on to a man who doesn’t want me, because I already know.”
    “I don’t think you’re stupid.” Grace blew out smoke a bit guiltily because she had thought just that, more than once. “You love Jonathan and Kevin. They were yours and you want to keep them.”
    “I guess that sums it up.” She took a second, longer sip of wine. Grace was right again. It was good stuff. It was hard to admit, hateful to admit, but she needed to talk to someone. She wanted that someone to be Grace because, no matter what their differences, Grace would be unquestioningly on her side. “It came to a point where I had to agree to separate.” She still couldn’t form the word