Back Talk by Saxon Bennett Page B

Hilton said.
    Anne pulled down the quilt and fluffed up the pillows. “Sleep tight, Hilton.”
    “You too.”
    Anne went to her own room and got undressed. She was glad she’d talked about Gerald tonight. Maybe she was healing. It was starting to feel like it wasn’t her fault after all. Hilton was right—she couldn’t have competed. And what sort of marriage would it have been if Gerald had persisted in living a lie? She lay down and adjusted the pillow so her neck didn’t throb.
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Chapter Six
    Hilton ended up spending the next day with Anne. They went to Pike Street Market and added themselves to the throng of Saturday afternoon shoppers. Instead of breakfast, they went to Iver’s Restaurant and had fried clams and fish and chips. Anne tried Hilton’s fried clams and insinuated that they were batter-dipped rubber bands. Then they went shopping.
    “What do you mean you don’t understand how to buy clothes?”
    Anne asked.
    They were standing in front of the Body Boutique, the sex toy store where the infamous purple dildo had no doubt been purchased. Anne insisted it had been purchased at a gag shop. Hilton was showing her otherwise.
    “I just don’t get it. I wear this stuff”—Hilton pointed to her camo-wear— “because I know it matches. I don’t have to make any decisions.”
    “Like those little matching outfits they make for toddlers,”
    Anne said brightly.
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    Hilton glared at her.
    “I meant that in a nice way.”
    “So I’m textile-challenged. Do you want to go in and take a look around?”
    “No! I don’t think that’s a good idea. Mind you, not that I’m afraid. I’m not, but I can just envision me getting spotted by one of my listeners and it gets all over town. I can see the news blurb now.
    Talk show host caught in dildo shop picking out the big one.”
    Hilton laughed. “I guess you’ve got a point there.” The ad promo department at the radio station liked to use Anne’s face in their local print ads, so local listeners knew her. She was extremely photogenic with her green eyes and neatly cut curly hair. Hilton was always fascinated with the fact that all the rain and humidity in Seattle only seemed to make Anne’s hair look better. It played havoc with her long hair, giving it fits of fly-away strands and giant snarls. She was endlessly threatening to get it cut off.
    “I have a better idea.”
    “Yes?”
    “Let’s go get you some clothes, real clothes.”
    Hilton raised an eyebrow.
    “I’m not being like Veronica,” Anne said. She raised her right hand. “I swear. Hilton, you’re gorgeous. You have a nice figure.
    Good clothes would really do you justice. I mean, so-called camo-wear can only take you so far.”
    Hilton smiled. “You’re lucky I’m not offended.”
    “I wasn’t offended by eating fried rubber bands.”
    “I was just trying to broaden your horizons,” Hilton said. “I could go shopping. You know, Gran wasn’t much into the physical side of life so I never really learned those things that other girls did. I always felt a little backward in the girly department.”
    Anne took Hilton’s hand. “Come on. Class is now in session.”
    They went back to the car where they found a small crowd gathered around Anne’s Chevy Avalanche. Shannon was sitting in the front seat giving the impression that she was driving. People were laughing and Shannon had that panting dog smile that makes 66
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    humans anthropomorphize them. Hilton made her move. “You big ham.”
    Shannon climbed in the backseat and Hilton gave her a french fry that she’d saved from lunch.
    Later that evening, Anne dropped Hilton and Shannon off with six shopping bags full of clothes, which didn’t account for the outfit Hilton was wearing. It occurred to Hilton that she hadn’t been home in nearly twenty-four hours. She slipped in the front door,