"In here, Brad," Andrea called, slinging on her bathrobe and sitting down at her night table. She flicked on her makeup mirror's light just before her spouse entered the bedroom.
"Aren't you late for class?"
Brad's glance rolled up from her slipperless feet to the lipstick in her hand as if he'd just stepped outside on a balmy summer night to find snow on the ground.
Andrea looked at the clock. "Oh, my God! I lost track of the time!" She turned off the little light--hoping he didn't notice that the mirror wasn't even pointed at her face--and stood up. "Thanks for reminding me."
She leaped into some clothes, using haste to disguise how frantic she was. How the hell would she get Chet out? Brad would never believe it if she skipped the ceramics workshop--she'd always pretended that the class meant the world to her. She beat down a wave of hysteria. She had to get out of the apartment and think things out, even if it meant temporarily abandoning her lover.
She gave Brad a quick peck on the cheek and dashed out, almost forgetting her purse.
Brad watched her disappear around the corner of the neighboring apartment building. He listened, heard the familiar cough of her mg as it started, and waited until the engine moan faded away down the street.
"Sandie!" he called down the cement stairs that led to his and Andrea's apartment.
A slender figure in a skirt and university sweater emerged from the shrubbery and hopped athletically up the steps. They met on the welcome mat and kissed deeply.
"That was close," he said. "But she'll be busy making pottery for the next couple of hours."
"Let's not waste a minute," Sandie urged.
)
