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'Aren't you going to eat some?' Kara asked, her voice muffled by a mouthful of popcorn. |
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Denise raised her right hand. |
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'You could always wash it.' |
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'I don't want to leave you alone with him.' |
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'I could always go with you.' |
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'We've got to watch him.' |
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'It's OK if you want to go and wash,' Kara said. 'Just don't take all night. I'll yell my head off if he moves a muscle.' |
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'Are you sure you don't mind?' |
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'I think I'd like it if you didn't have any of that stuff on you. It gives me the willies.' |
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'OK.' Denise slid the jumprope handle across the tiles toward the girl's knee. 'I'll be quick,' she said, stood up and rushed for the kitchen. |
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At the sink, she squirted liquid soap onto one hand and turned on the hot water. She worked up a lather. She rinsed. Before reaching for the roll of paper towels, she shut the water off. She listened for sounds from the front while she dried her hands. |
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She checked her hands. Clean. |
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She unfastened the button at her neck and spread her shirt open. Then she wadded some fresh towels, dampened them, and rubbed the skin of her belly that had been soiled by Tom's umbrella. The stains came off as easily as if they were nothing more than muddy water. When she was done, the wet ball of paper towels was flat where it had pressed against her. It looked like a rag used to clean off a window sill |
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