The Green Lace Corset, стр. 41

Who the heck else was coming? Have they found more committee members?

Three minutes later, Karl sauntered in, sat beside her, and placed a shoebox of tinfoil sculptures on the table. Anne couldn’t believe he was here.

Priscilla began, “We’re interviewing you together for simplicity’s sake. For a straight playing field.”

Oh, for gosh sakes, this wasn’t a football game.

“Karl. Show us your samples first.” Priscilla smiled at him.

“When I subbed for Anne, the students made these self-portraits.” He held up each of the sculptures one at a time and placed them on the table.

To Anne, they resembled RoboCops, not children.

Fredricka squinted, leaned to the side, and examined the sculptures at eye level. Mr. Willingsby picked up one by its head and rotated the piece.

Anne couldn’t tell whether they were impressed or not.

Karl placed one on Priscilla’s open palm. She gazed at it as if it were a stunning Degas ballerina. “Very nice.” She raised her brows at Karl. “How did you come up with the idea for these?”

He paused. “I use this technique to create preliminary drafts of my own sculptures.”

“What foundry casts your work? What galleries represent you?” Fredricka asked, holding up one of the pieces.

Karl grinned at her. “I work only in wood, so I don’t need a foundry. Right now, I’m saving my pieces for a solo exhibit. Do you have any interest in showing them at the Noir?” He laughed as if he was teasing, but Anne could tell he was serious.

“I don’t think they’d fit our profile.” Fredricka put down the piece and played with her necklace again.

“What are the three most important things you’d like to get out of the residency?” Priscilla asked.

The pants man shot the committee his biggest smile. “I’m going to demonstrate to museum guests the beauty of sculpture and how difficult it is to create. Perhaps sell some pieces and even receive some new commissions. I’m looking forward to having a large studio to work in. I need a lot of space.”

He talked as if he already had the position. That was more than three things, buster.

“Any other questions?” Priscilla asked.

Mr. Willingsby asked, “Karl, do you have any thoughts about improving our arts programming?”

“Yes: a bigger budget.”

Priscilla laughed. What was going on with those two?

Mr. Willingsby and Fredricka sat stone-faced.

“It’s your turn. Show us the shoes.” Priscilla tilted her head at Anne.

Anne’s heart sped up, and she slid the horseshoes toward the panel.

As Mr. Willingsby picked up Penny’s horseshoe, the button popped off onto the table and some seed beads sprinkled on the floor.

“Oops! Sorry,” he said.

“No problem. That happens all the time.” Anne couldn’t believe she’d just said that. She should have shaken them upside down in the classroom to make sure all the loose materials had fallen off.

“What adhesives do you use?” Fredricka asked, as she ran her finger gently over Hugh’s purple earring.

“Weldbond. Like Tacky Glue, but stronger. Mosaic artists use it these days. For the bigger objects, like that metal rose there, we used E6000.” Anne pointed at Cindy’s horseshoe.

“Isn’t that toxic?” Karl asked.

Oh. Karl gets to ask questions? If Anne had known that, she would have asked him a few. “We used only a tad, under my supervision.”

Priscilla sat back and crossed her arms. “Anne. How about you? What are three things you hope to get out of the residency?”

Anne took a breath and began. She’d practiced this one. “I’d like to welcome museum guests not just as observers but as artists. I believe the best way for patrons to appreciate and learn about art is by doing it themselves. I’ll provide hands-on materials so they can do that.”

She paused. Was that three things?

“Go on,” Fredricka encouraged.

Anne heard her voice strengthen as she went on, “For instance, I’ll be bringing in a large mosaic. Guests will put chipped plates and tiles in a paper bag and break them with a hammer.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Karl asked.

Anne wanted to kick him under the table. “I’ve used this technique for years and will make sure they’re safe.”

“You’d better make sure you have plenty of Band-Aids available.” He laughed, and so did Priscilla.

Anne continued, “I’ll encourage guests to choose pieces that appeal to them and adhere those pieces to the mosaics themselves.”

Priscilla stood. “Yes, well. Thank you both for coming.”

Everyone else stood also.

They hadn’t asked Anne about ideas for improving the program, and she had so many. “Wait. I have something else to add.”

Mr. Willingsby and Fredricka sat down again. “Go on,” Fredricka said.

Anne began again: “I’d like to see us offer classes to children whose families can’t afford to pay for them. Maybe do some outreach in the community with seniors or even the homeless.”

Mr. Willingsby nodded, and Fredricka smiled. Priscilla just stared. What was wrong with that woman?

“We’ll make a decision within a few days,” Priscilla said.

Feeling like a broken plate herself, Anne shook hands with the committee members and left the room as Karl continued to chat it up with his smarmy grin.

Too tired, queasy, and depressed to walk to Planned Parenthood, Anne ordered a Lyft. She checked in at reception and sat in the waiting room among other women of all shapes and sizes. Anne wondered which other ones were pregnant.

She skimmed an article in Natural Parent magazine about the dangers of good child syndrome until she was called fifteen minutes later.

Lying on the exam table in the paper gown and drape, she was freezing. Why did they have the air conditioner up so high? Didn’t they know naked women were in these rooms? And the decor . . . If it were up to her, she’d repaint these sickly green walls Fairy Wings pink.

The door opened, and a large woman with wavy red hair entered and shook Anne’s hand. “I’m the midwife, Lori. How are you feeling today?”

“Nauseated.” Anne yawned.

Lori looked at the chart. “Yes, your urine test confirms you’re pregnant. Almost nine weeks.” She looked at Anne with large, kind eyes. “You should start to feel better soon.”

“I sure hope so.”

“Me too. Do you want