"honey chile," i said, "if the south had won the war, you could write the same plays about the north!"
you're supposed to zip the zipper - not me.
that same night we sent for eve's things, her few pitiful possessions.  she moved into the little guest room on the top floor.
 she cried when she saw it - it was so like her little room back home in wisconsin.
 the next three weeks were out of a fairy tale - and i was cinderella in the last act. eve became my sister, lawyer, mother, friend, psychiatrist and cop - the honeymoon was on.
bill's welcoming-home-birthday party.  a night to go down in history. like the chicago fire - or the massacre of the huguenots. even before the party started, i could smell disaster in the air.
i knew it, i sensed it even as i finished dressing for that blasted party.
what was it the wise man said - "this, too, will pass away"? two weeks later - the day of the audition - all was well with bill and me, the world and me-