As Aquila drove to Dan's house for the second day of posing, she was in a somber mood caused by Mike's increasing indifference to her. She pondered what she could do to revive his interest. Some people said that she should start to show an interest herself in some other men in order to make him jealous. Others thought having a child together would do the trick. She was already being the domestic goddess doing all the cooking and housework, yet Mike never thanked or complimented her for it. He seemed to think it was his due that she should do it all, in addition to bringing in more money than he did from his business interests, on which he did not seem to work very hard.
When she arrived at Dan's there was no-one home, and she was about to call him when he drove up.
"Sorry, it was my turn to bring the kids to school. Have you been waiting long?"
"Only a minute."
"That's grand, so. Isn't Cass with you today?"
"No, I've decided to trust you," and she laughed.
"I don't know whether to be flattered or displeased. But one thing I have always lived by is never to become involved with a married woman. So you're quite safe."
He opened the door, and they went in and up the stairs.
"We did six aspects yesterday, so only four left to do today. You may be able to go home early. Let's get started. The next aspect is Wicca Priestess. Robes on the hanger there. Put on this head-dress thing. Hold this disc with moon and stars in one hand, and the goblet in the other; raise it up as if you were offering a libation to the Goddess. Try to imagine you are an acolyte of the Goddess, and have power over occult forces."
They got to work. It went smoothly, and over lunch they chatted pleasantly. She felt more and more attracted to him, but got no feeling that it was reciprocated. Actually Dan was almost dizzy with lust for her, but kept himself rigidly in control.
To bring the subject around to something which might dampen her feelings, she said,
"What happened to your wife?"
"Leukemia. It was terrible. She was only twenty-two and Anita was only eighteen months old when she got sick. I had to care for both of them and try to make a living as a self-employed artist at the same time. She couldn't work of course. Without insurance she got very little treatment. A bone marrow transplant might have saved her but there was no way we could have afforded it, even if a donor could have been found. She wasted away to a skeleton and died in my arms in our bed. The only good thing was that Anita was too young to understand what was going on. She doesn't remember her mother at all."
"And the final insult was that she was only dead two weeks when two men from Immigration came looking to deport her. I invited them in, then brought the urn with her ashes and said to them, 'She's in there, and you can't have her.' One of them at least had the grace to apologize. The other was a complete bastard and implied that it was all a trick and I had her hidden somewhere. He made me show them her death certificate."
