“Norman picked up a sketch, glanced at it, then put it back down on the table. "I saw Bea Williamson this morning," he said in a low voice. "Lurking about looking for cut glass." "Oh, of course," Mira said with a sigh. "Did she have it with her?" Norman nodded solemnly. "Yep. I swear, I think it's almost gotten ... bigger." Mira shook her head. "Not possible." "I'm serious," Norman said. "It's way big." I kept waiting for someone to expand on this, but since neither of them seemed about to, I asked, "What are you talking about?" They looked at each other. Then, Mira took a breath. "Bea Williamson's baby," she said quietly, as if someone could hear us, "has the biggest head you have ever seen." Norman nodded, seconding this. "A baby?" I said. "A big-headed baby," Mira corrected me. "You should see the cranium on this kid. It's mind-boggling.”

“We split a bottle of Norman cider. Not everybody sells Norman cider by the bottle. "Has a European feel" Susan said."That sounds terrific" I said. "Can I have one?"Susan grinned at me. "How did you ever get to be so big without growing up?" she said."Iron self-control" I said.”

“I'll wait. By the way, sex-me-up shoes?""I was following a theme.""Well." Reo turned her ankles, looked down. "They are pretty fabulous.""They are," Mira agreed."I was going to say the same about yours. What a terrific color.""Could we not talk about shoes in the box that still smells of evildoer?""You started it," Reo reminded her before she turned back to Mira.”

“He handed me a bandana. "Tie that on.""Why?" I said, but I did it anyway. "Norman, you are way too into ceremony.""It's important." I could hear him moving around, adjusting things, before he came to sit beside me. "Okay," he said. "Take a look."I pulled off the blindfold. Beside me, Norman watched me see myself for the first time.And it was me. At least, it was a girl who looked like me. She was sitting on the back stoop of the restaurant, legs crossed and dangling down. She had her head slightly tilted, as if she had been asked something and was waiting for the right moment to respond, smiling slightly behind the sunglasses that were perched on her nose, barely reflecting part of a blue sky.The girl was something else, though. Something I hadn't expected. She was beautiful.Not in the cookie-cutter way of all the faces encircling Isabel's mirror. And not in the easy, almost effortless style of a girl like Caroline Dawes. This girl who stared back at me, with her lip ring and her half smile - not quite earned - knew she wasn't like the others. She knew the secret. And she'd clicked her heels three times to find her way home."Oh, my God," I said to Norman, reaching forward to touch the painting, which still didn't seem real. My own face, bumpy and textured beneath my fingers, stared back at me. "Is this how you see me?""Colie." He was right beside me. "That's how you are.”

“Meow,' Cat Norman said simply, parking his big butt by my foot and looking up at me. 'Meow.' 'I hate you,' I told him. He didn't even flinch.”

“So . . . do you?” He persisted.“Yes,” she said finally with a mystified laugh. “I wrap my head in a towel.”He nodded, satisfied. “I thought so.”“Did you ever think about cutting back on the caffeine?”Miles shook his head. “Never.”