She showers and changes into a sunbacked dress.And goes out to check the garden.Muslin, she will need, she notes.The air is too dry, the sun too hot, ...ain too far off.She must water the tomatos but not cook their leaves in the sun.And merely filling in the troughs between rows with the hose is not yet effective; the roots are too short, too far away to reach the water level.So that she must drape the tomato stakes with muslin, thus providing shade and retarding evaporation.Yes, she requires. When times get rough, you blame yourself. A carousel, with horses of “what ifs” revolved in my head. What if I was taller? Thinner? Smarter? Prettier? Had less blemished skin? What if I was Swedish? Older? Had brown eyes and a silky laugh? What if I had more in common with Shawn, like cars and computers? What if I was the kind of person who could keep a boyfriend? “Esme?” I looked up to find Shawn staring at me. I had drifted off into my delusion. Christ. “Are you okay?” “Oh, sure. Peachy,” I. More

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