“The style sounded like I look. What good would it do if I sounded like Sinatra? People would look at me and look at him and choose him.”

“You like salsa, though?” she asked, looking incredulously at him. “Sure I do. I get to grope and show off a beautiful woman while I choose the steps and direct the dance. What more would a controlling bastard like me want?”

“I spent the whole morning looking at him. He looked at Mama. Mama looked at me. Then he would look at me. I would look at Mama. She would look at him. In different circumstances, I'd be amused.”

“The weapons room looked exactly the way something called "the weapons room" sounded like it would look.”

“Joshua?" I called out, a slight hitch in my voice. "Yeah?" "What do I look like to you?" He tilted his head to the side, frowning. "What do I look like to you?" I repeated urgently, afraid that if I didn't talk fast enough, I would have time to realize how absolutely, mind-bogglingly stupid I sounded. Joshua smiled. He answered me, so quietly I almost couldn't hear him. "Beautiful. Too beautiful for people not to have noticed you the other night.”

“Oh my gosh, don’t you both look pretty!” We looked like rejects from the auditions for The Sound of Music.“I will have to buy them – they are meant to be yours!” Karla waved her credit card around like a wand.“What a shame they didn’t have one in green for me. But then, it is a young girl’s style. I would’ve looked foolish.”