More than a coincidence.You come up with an idea, she could help with your homework, and so yougo round to her house and nervously ring the bell, and ...nock on thedoor. Gatsby in hand. But she's not home. You curse, consideringabandoning the whole enterprise, having to wait until monday to seewhat she'll be wearing. To imagine that body underneath. And the bodyunderneath that.You walk around the house, into the backyard, to a glorious sight. Herlaundry, hung out to dry like bunting. You see the. ”“You’re right,” he said and they slipped back into their silent meditation.Helen watched from the front window as Gary and the children left for church. She was putting the last of the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher when the doorbell rang.“Mr. Willet,” she said through the screen door, not allowing him in the house. “Are you going to be making it a habit of visiting me on Sunday mornings?”He gave her a sly smile but did not make a move to enter the parsonage. They simply looked at each. More

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