’ She pulled up to a red light and tapped her fingernail on the steering wheel. ‘Have you ever told him about it?’ ‘No.’ ‘Don’t you thin... you should?’ ‘I don’t know. Why drag it up? And what if . . . what if he feels differently after he knows?’ ‘That’d be tough. But it’s kind of a heavy secret not to tell. And he could find out from someone else, or on his own, which would be awkward.’ ‘I know. I worry he’ll find something on the internet.’ Sylvia sighed. ‘And it’s not that I don’t want to. ” He said sharply. She stopped pouring. “C’mon, please. Now.”“Fine.” She shook her head. “You told me not to take it out of the apartment. I think that falls under shit to do with my body.”He wasn’t listening. She was bitching mostly under her breath. She grabbed her purse and her winter coat. She tossed the coat at Owen. He was running his hands under the tv’s stand and around the backs of his speakers. He scrambled up holding the coat. She dumped her purse on the counter. A lipstick and. More

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