Late in the afternoon Clair Louise Faulkner stood in the<br >middle of her studio apartment facing the elongated mirror<br >on her closed bathroom door. Sunlight saturated the win-<br >dows behind her， windows which had drawn her to this par-<br >ticular place. They raised her spirits daily with their view of<br >~aceful hills lined with tidy houses.<br >~ She wore a pale purple body suit. Her mother would<br >have told her to avoid anything that showed her bulges the<br >eeay this did; however， her mother had been dead for over a<br >~ear and Clair was redefining her life， rethinking her priori-<br >Jes.<br > Pulling yards of transparent， lavender， gauzy fabric out<br >)f a paper bag， she draped it around her shoulders with a<br >]ourish， chin raised in a gesture which was either triumphant<br >~r belligerent. She had lived on her own in a strange city for<br >~ver a year now. Soon she would be thirty-six.<br > She bunched the material one way， then another， won-<br >lered what her dad would have said about all this. She imag-<br >ned him shaking his head， perplexed， relighting his pipe and<br >ticking up his paper.<br > Stretching to see over her shoulder she wished she had<br >:nother mirror， found a small one and examined the view of<br >Ler backside. The effect she wanted was slowly coming to-<br >iether.<br > From another bag she pulled a dark plum-colored tutu，<br >tepped into it and pulled it up around her hips. She had<br >，een such a good girl for so many years， such a good daugh-<br >er， coming back after college first to take care of her stroke-<br >lowed father， t aen both parents. They d been so different，<br >
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