"God. That's fantastic." Her mouth dropped open as she stared at herself, sketched on a sheet of 11" x 17" paper.

"It's yours," Tanya said.

She glanced again at it, nestled against the wall in its elegant frame, guarded from dirt and dust by a sheet of beveled glass. She smiled. Judith's fine, oval face smiled back at her. Her chiseled features fascinated Tanya, as always, with the small nose and sensuous mouth. She had tried and succeeded in capturing Judith's expression, the light in her eyes that showed a special soul. The day of Judith's passionate discourse on people's suffering brought it clearly to Tanya's attention, and to Tanya's drawing.

She frowned for a moment, remembering Judith's questions.

"Why do you work here, at the Gallery, when you could be making money with your art?" Judith asked. "You must need money. Why don't you sell your work?"

"I won a scholarship to MacKenzie Academy," Tanya had said, avoiding the real question. "And I like it here."

"Checking out your old work, are you?" a voice said from the front door. "Come help me with this stuff. The elevators are out of order, and I had to climb fourteen floors with four bags of groceries." Judith huffed an exhausted breath. "At the least, come tell me how sorry you feel for me." She laughed and came into the dining nook lugging four large bags. She glanced at Tanya. "You look like you could use some food."

"What do you have there?" Tanya asked, her mouth beginning to water from the wonderful aromas.

"Food," Judith replied. "When I left this morning, early, you were out like a light. Guess you needed to catch up on some sleep. I had a ton of things to do, and now I'm back with a good idea and a fantastic meal." She looked as proud as a lioness bringing food back to the pride, and nearly as elegant. She unloaded four containers unto the table.

Tanya read the tags on the cartons, stumbling over each word. "Artichauts à la vinaigrette, canard rôti, croquettes de pomme-de-terre, fenouils au gratin, galette aux cerises-can you translate?"

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"Can't. Got them at the French Buffet. It's a new restaurant, just opened. I scooped a bit from five different containers, and grabbed the tags, too. I thought we could improve on our French."

"By eating French food?"

"No, or course not. By matching each dish with the correct tag."




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