"Are you going to make her read the contract right there in front of you?"

"No. That would be tacky."

"It wasn't tacky when you did it to me," Jane said, showing off, as she spoke, how well she could parallel-park on a busy street.

"I'll give her the contract, pointing out, naturally, how unprofessional hers was. I'll bet you anything Sandra drew it up. Anyway, I'm men going to rat on Sandra about the measured drawings. Just so you know what to expect."

They found Sandra and Bitsy in the end of the upstairs part of the house that was being completed first. Everybody was relieved that the horrible odor was gone. Today two people were starting the Sheetrock. One was obviously a real,

genuine male. Everyone watched as he picked up an eight-by-four-foot sheet as if it were no heavier than a piece of paper and heaved it precisely into place.

He turned around and Bitsy said, "Ladies, meet Carl Stringfield. Isn't he a wonder?"

"He is," Jane and Shelley said at the same time.

Bitsy told him their names and what they'd be doing as if it were already sorted out and a done deal. "And this is Ev," she said as a lithe young woman with dark curly hair entered the room.

"Bitsy, I've asked you not to call me Ev several times. My name is Evaline Berman. Evaline. Got it? Or Ms. Berman. And who are you ladies?" Her expression of discontent suddenly disappeared as she spotted the newcomers.

"Shelley Nowack and Jane Jeffry," Shelley said, shaking hands with Evaline. "We're thinking of being the decorators." There was the barest hint of emphasis on the word "thinking."

"Evaline is the mud person," Bitsy said with a titter. "Isn't that what you call it, usually?"

"That's what Carl calls it. I call it joint cement."

"She's also an inventor," Bitsy continued. "She has a special sort of joint cement that she's patenting. Dries so fast you wouldn't believe it. Sands easily and most often doesn't even require a second coat."