She looked forty now or more. But it wasn’t the age that made the difference. It was a sallowness beneath the natural dark complexion of her ski....One thing Nathan knew about these kind of women; there was hardly any middle-age. They were beautiful, then all of a sudden they disintegrated into pudgy, oily-skinned grandmothers. Paulette wasn’t leather-skinned yet.Nathan hopped out of bed and went to the bathroom. When he finished, she was sitting up in bed, yawning and stretching. Her. He just continued to paint and gently blow on the little plastic pieces.“I wanna ask you about mom,” I said.“What about her?” He picked up another piece and stuck the paintbrush in a cup of turpentine.“Did she know about your ... you know, urges?”He stopped stirring. “Why are you asking?”“Cause the more I think about it, the more I don’t want to keep this up.” I leaned back and rested my ankle over my knee. “After military school didn’t work out, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. I drifted,. More

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