Twelve

There was a pleasant chill in the autumn air, and Andrea smiled at the alizarin sun appearing over the roof tops. Since the art show with Claire just last weekend, she had been more than ever convinced that she had stumbled into her niche. Painting and art fairs would be Andrea's life's work. Underlying it all was the blissful discovery that Torry was single. They were certain to see each other at art fairs; and Andrea was sure that, in time, they would be a couple. That expectation had filled her with exuberant energy.

When Andrea stepped back in the kitchen, she looked up at the wall clock over the table There would be plenty of time to fix the kids something special for breakfast. They deserved it: after the bustle of the first days of school, problems with Robin had all but vanished. Both children liked their teachers, and Andrea hadn't heard a major squabble since coming home from the art fair.

She turned the temperature knob on the oven to 375° and measured flour and sugar in a mixing bowl to make Robin's favorite coffee cake. As she gathered the other ingredients, Andrea thought how much she had accomplished in the two days since coming back.

With her profits in the bank, she had ordered a canopy and panels of her own. She put them on her MasterCard, confident that after another show she would earn enough to pay for them. Andrea painted several hours both days, finishing an unprecedented five paintings in that time.