The Green Lace Corset, стр. 62
The music cranked up from inside, and the chain saw too. Darn it all. She hadn’t closed the sliding door. She put on a few more pieces, until she couldn’t take it anymore and rolled out from under the deer. Getting up off the ground was hard, so she crawled to the door, reached up, closed it, and returned to the deer.
A few minutes later, the door opened.
“Anne, what are you doing out here?” Mr. Willingsby bent down to see her.
She scooted out and tried to stand.
“Here, let me help you.” He reached for her.
She put out her right hand, covered in thinset, gave him her left hand, and let him guide her up.
“It’s too noisy in there, and sawdust gets stuck in everything.”
She gestured through the sliding glass door at Karl going at it inside.
“Wouldn’t it make more sense for him to be the one outside?”
She shrugged and resisted the urge to complain. In the glass door, her frizzy hair resembled a tumbleweed and she wished she had on something more presentable, but none of her clothes were comfortable anymore.
“I’ve been out of town. How long has this been going on?” Mr. Willingsby asked.
“Seven weeks, since the start.”
He sighed. “Let me see what you’re working on.”
“This is Freddy.” She patted the stag’s head.
Mr. Willingsby imitated her enthusiastically. “Hi, Freddy. I suppose you’re named after Fredricka.”
“Oh, no. I didn’t even make that connection. I hope she’s not offended. She came by the other day, but she didn’t say anything.”
“It’s perfect. I’m sure she’s flattered.”
“Do you want to put some tesserae on him?” Anne asked.
“What?”
“Tesserae are pieces of a mosaic. It’s one of our young-artist vocabulary words.”
“Sure.” He took the box of shards she handed him.
“Pick one.”
He chose a blue-and-white one. Anne buttered it with thinset, and he stuck it to Freddy’s back.
“That sure felt good.” He put on a few more pieces.
She gave him a Handi Wipe. He cleaned his hands and glanced again at Karl working in the studio.
“You’re doing a great job, considering the circumstances.” Mr. Willingsby shook his head and left.
A week later, Karl began being nicer to her. He made sure the patio door was closed before he revved up his chain saw, and he kept the music lower. One afternoon when rain was predicted, he even helped her tarp the deer and her art supplies. He hadn’t said anything, but maybe he’d noticed her baby bump and realized she was pregnant.
A week later, he had skipped several days of work in a row. Not that Anne had missed his noisy presence, but she did start to worry. It was time to inform Priscilla about the baby anyway, so Anne wandered down to her office.
How odd. Mr. Willingsby sat at Priscilla’s desk, studying the computer. The printer churned out pages.
Anne knocked on the doorjamb. “Where’s Priscilla?”
Mr. Willingsby looked up at Anne and waved her in. “Take a seat.”
She slid into a chair.
“Priscilla has taken a leave of absence.”
“Is she sick?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Is Karl okay? He hasn’t been in for a few days.”
“I know.” Mr. Willingsby put his fingers in a triangle under his chin.
Anne waited for him to go on.
“Is he sick?”
“No.”
“Did he take a vacation?”
“Not really.” Mr. Willingsby shook his head.
She didn’t want to sound nosy but couldn’t help herself. “Where is he, then?”
“It’s a personnel matter that I can’t discuss.” Mr. Willingsby’s eyes returned to the computer screen.
Anne sat back in the chair and stared at him.
“Anything else?” he asked.
“When will he return?”
“Let’s just say you can move into the studio space now.”
“Whoa!” She resisted the urge to do a fist pump. “Thank you.”
“I’m sorry you’ve had to work outside all this time.”
“It’s been rough.”
“For the time being, you’ll report directly to me.”
“I’m pregnant,” Anne blurted out.
“I know.” He raised his eyebrows.
“You do?”
“Yes. I’ve known since the first day I met you at the interview.”
“Don’t worry—the residency will be over before the baby comes.”
“I’m not worried.” He had such a kind smile. “Let me know if you need help moving your things inside.”
“Thanks.”
Anne grabbed her backpack, hurried outside, and dialed Fay. “Oh my God. Something crazy is going on at the museum.”
“What?”
Anne relayed to Fay her conversation with Mr. Willingsby.
“Blimey.”
“You haven’t heard anything?” Anne asked.
“Not yet. You know me, though—I’ll ask around and get the scoop.”
“I have no doubt.” Anne couldn’t wait to find out what was happening.
42
Darn it all.” She tried to pull on her favorite sweats, but she couldn’t even get them up over her belly. A shift with a baggy sweater over it would have to do.
Neither her sneakers nor her wingtips would go on over her swollen feet, either. They were bigger and uglier than ever. No way could she even get into her silver shoes. When Sergio saw her engorged feet, he’d really tease her about them. She decided to just get it over with, so she texted him a photo. She slid on flip-flops and studied her ensemble, if you could call it that, in the mirror. At least as an artist she could get away with dressing funkily for work, but this was absurd.
On her computer, she scrolled in search of maternity clothes. There were so many cute styles. The boho floral top was to die for; she clicked through. Yowza—$300. She could probably wear it even after the baby was born. No, no. She needed to conserve her finances now more than ever.
After work, even if she didn’t have much energy, she had to go thrifting. It would be a challenge to shop without being lured into buying a found object. Since she’d decided to keep the baby, she’d promised not to buy any more art materials. She needed to make way for her daughter in her life, physically and financially, and anything else for the museum, she had to pay for out of