1.9

Maybe not attractive in the Hollywood-picture sense, more handsome. Yes, handsome was the word. Not handsome like the late Bea Arthur, but handsome in the Grecian figure studies sense. The familiarity was mysterious to her. Did she actually recognize him? Or did he have a familiar face. He was not average, so his unique features shouldn’t allow for confusion.

“Is this your nose?” he asked, handing her a little nose connected to a corner of cheek.

“Oh… Um. It’s Edwards.” She was still trying to figure out his face, while holding the fragment of Edward’s. “I mean, it belongs to this statue I broke, it belongs to my brother. This is his party. “ Here was her in, “How do you know him?”

“I don’t actually. My friend Transom asked me to join him on our way to a couple gatherings tonight. I am joining him here, and then he is going with me to the opening of a friend’s antique shop.” Was he floundering? Was he nervous? “And how do you know him?” he asked, trying to pass back the conversation baton.

“Well, I know him ‘cause he’s my brother.” Her brow furrowed.

“Right. Stupid questions.” He looked at the floor. Realizing he could help more he knelt down and helped Penelope pick up the remaining pieces of her secret shattered infatuation. He continued, “people like to say that there are no such thing as stupid questions, but that is clearly an insane thing to say. You know?”

“Careful. You’re about to step on his little ceramic foot.” She pointed at the ankle about to be squashed under his payless brand sneakers.