Cecilia came home exhausted from her overseas stint as an airline stewardess. With two days off to get rest, she spent the first day in bed, overcoming jet lag. On the morning of the second day, Bob waited for her in the kitchen with a fresh pot of coffee.

"Are you staying home this evening, before taking off tomorrow?" he asked, preparing to go to work himself.

Cecilia was slow to answer, as the caffeine in her coffee had yet to wake her up. "I've missed you," Bob added as she sipped.

"I missed you too," she said around the rim of her cup, more as a reflex than with sincerity.

"Barbara came home as well, right?" he asked, referring to his wife's therapist.

Cecilia pursed her lips with her cup near her mouth. "You want to board with me, don't you? Our next session's not until after this flight."

Bob fumbled with his words. "Well, the fashion show wasn't exactly an actual session. We did it for fun."

"We did it to help out Tylene. She needed another model."

"Aw, Seas. That's not true. We did it because we wanted to!"

Cecilia left the kitchen to drink her coffee some place else. "You need to go to work," she said, trying to end the conversation. "I'll talk to you when you get home."

Bob followed after her. "I want to board with you before you take off."

"Why?"

"It's important to me. Isn't that enough?"

Cecilia stopped trying to escape, and gave her husband a peck on the cheek. "Perhaps we'll go and see Benjamin at the manor. He has something he wants to show."

Bob knew what awaited them there. "Just promise you'll board with me," he said.

"We'll see. I could meet Bab at the coffee shop again, before I head to the airport. That was a lot of fun."

"What? Being with her, or boarding with me?"

"Yes," Cecilia said with sass. She entered the bathroom and closed the door, ending the conversation for good.

Benjamin was more animated than usual when Bob and Cecilia arrived. He gave her a big bear hug, then enthusiastically shook Bob's hand.

Bob smiled at his friend's behavior. "You can hug me too," he offered, holding his arms wide.

"Oh goodie!" Benjamin tittered, squeezing Bob hard enough to make him squeak. "There's so much you need to see!"

"Ah yeah. About that Benj—" Bob began, cutting himself off after the big man had bolted from view.

The couple entered further into the manor, finding their friend in the next room. He held something hidden behind his back, with an enormous smile on his face.

"You are going to love this!" he sang, pausing for effect.

His joy was infectious. "What have you got?" Cecilia asked, her own smile beaming.

Benjamin presented the latest copy of the Fashion Faire magazine, holding it straight out with his arms extended. "Look who's on the cover!" he sang.

The edition had as its title 'Fashion at Forty.' Upon it was a three-quarters shot of Bob posing in Tylene's show, wearing Geraldi's translucent blue wayfarer glasses and Ché's brocaded shoes slung over his shoulder.

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"You're famous!" Benjamin sang.

Cecilia snatched the magazine away. "Oh my God, Bob! We are!"

"And I'm actually forty-one," Bob added about his age.

She held the magazine near his face for both of them to admire, before rifling through it with anticipation. Inside was a full-body photo of Bob highlighting the main article.

"They're talking about your feet," she enthused as she read.

"They call him the Barefoot Model," Benjamin teased, giving Bob a poke with a finger.

Cecilia clutched the magazine to her chest, her eyes darting between the two men. "This is awesome. I can't believe you might be famous!"

"He already is," Benjamin said. "I know Ty—and even her competition—are designing outfits to highlight men's feet."

Cecilia acted as if she wanted to dance. "I knew this would happen! I'm so happy!"

"I wonder if I have to keep wearing glasses?" Bob pondered, sharing in his wife's good mood.

She was adamant. "Oh yes sir, you do." She again admired the picture. "And this exact style too."

"But maybe in different colors," Benjamin added. "Like red ones! And yellow ones too!"

Bob expression fell, knowing why Benjamin chose to mention those colors. As if the big man had read Bob's mind, Benjamin drew his guests further into the manor.

"There's more for you to see!" he said, leading them to the portico.

"Yeah. About that," Bob began. "It's kind of embarrassing."

Benjamin didn't get the point. "No, It's all right. You will see."

He showed them how he had painted a path around Mahui's yellow footprints, as they led up the basement steps and out to the yard. Each dot of yellow and crease mark left by her skin was meticuously encased in red.

"I didn't go with Venetian," Benjamin said about his choice of color. "It didn't match the yellow. So I chose a brighter color!"

"What are we looking at?" Cecilia asked, confused.

"Fire engine red," Benjamin said over her words. "Just like fiery Mahui!"

"Mahui?" Cecilia asked, looking at both Benjamin and Bob. "The Māori woman?"

Benjamin carried on. "Yeah! Bob and her hung out the whole night." He took in Cecilia's sour face. "You know. I mean, at the party."

"Oh really?" Cecilia asked.

"Ah. Well, at first they kind of fought, but then yeah. They made up."

Bob silently begged his friend to shut up. Unfortunately, it was too late.

"After I left for my flight, you hung out with that—" Cecilia chose not to swear. "That wife of a football guy."

Benjamin didn't catch on. "Yeah! That's her! Makani is his name."

"I know," Cecilia said, clipping her words. She turned to speak to her husband. "The Tuigamalas. Did they have anything to say about me?"

"He wasn't here," Benjamin said. "Just his wife."

"He's not the one I worry about. He's nice. Her, not so much."

"She was alone," Bob said. "Just like me."

"And so you decided to spend the night with her."

"She was missing her husband, like I miss being with you. So we had something in common."

Benjamin spoke to intervene. "Gosh, guys. I didn't mean to start a fight."

Cecilia apologized. "No, Benjamin. It's all right. I just— I've had a hard day."

"I kind of have one more thing to show," Benjamin said in a small voice. He held the doorknob to the basement in his hand. "It's down here."

"So let's see," Cecilia said.

Benjamin opened the door and showed them Ché's shoes, on the stair where Bob had been standing. He went to them and picked them up.

"You can see how, right here," Benjamin said to Bob, "the paint she threw left an imprint of where you were standing."

Cecilia glared at her husband, speaking in measured tones. "She threw paint at you?"

Bob tried to explain. "It was kind of done in fun. She was mad because she fell down the stairs."

"And she blamed you?"

"It's a long story, I guess."

"I'd like to hear it."

Bob placed his hand on his temple, near where his brainboard sat. "I want to show you," he said.

To Cecilia's silence, Benjamin spoke. "Ah... guys? It really is all great story. I think it's why you ended up on the cover of Fashion Faire magazine."

Cecilia sighed. "Well, at least they weren't talking about me. Or, not anyone I care to listen to."

Benjamin pressed his big hands together, and stepped between the quarreling couple. "So, um, now I'd kind of like to ask a favor. I'm pretty sure Ché doesn't want her shoes, especially since they got paint on them, and then you glued on some beads."

"You glued beads on Ché's shoes?" Cecilia asked Bob.

"Like I said. It is a long story."

"So anyway," Benjamin interupted. "Even if I have to buy them, I'm going to glue the shoes down to the place where you stood when Mahui, ah... you know. Went by. But If you could, I'd like to ask you to model, and pose for me while I trace your outline."

Cecilia huffed with exasperation. "What are you saying, Benjamin?"

"Ahm. If Bob could stand there, please, on that step, and let me trace the outline his shadow makes on the wall, I could paint it in black like he's staring down the stairs."

"Like he's looking at where that—woman fell."

"Um. Yeah," Benjamin said. "That's the idea."

Cecilia headed back toward the car. "You boys do what you want. I need to get ready for work."

"Are you flying out tonight?" Benjamin asked. "Overseas?"

"Yes. So it will be at least for two days." She gave her husband an icy look. "Maybe three if I take on some jump flights."

"And maybe, can I meet you and Bab for a coffee? So I can—" he tapped again where his brainboard lay. "Be with you before you go?"

She gave him a peck on the cheek, getting close to speak in private. "Maybe Monkeypants. We will see."