Free Wild Things by Karin Kallmaker

downtown district, but she was as close to the heart of the city as she could get, and in a building that wasn't high enough to completely escape the noise of the city streets fifteen floors below.
    It was high enough for a heart-stopping view of the upper Miracle Mile and the vast blackness of Lake Michigan. Lights bobbed on the water as pleasure craft and shipping tankers shared the fading daylight.
    Absorbed in the view though I was, I didn't miss the affectionate bear hug Eric gave Sydney, followed by a frank appraisal. "You work too hard," Eric pronounced. "But you don't look as scary as you did at that dinner."
    "Scary?" Sydney turned to me. "Did I look scary?"
    "Not at all," I said. "I have no idea what he means."
    "Sure you do," Eric said. "She looked so official and politician-like I wondered what happened to the sister who put my best running shoes in Mom's corn-poster."
    "Eric! Stop it," Sydney said, playfully slapping him as she took his coat. "What will Faith think?"
    "That you're my favorite sister."
    "I'm your only sister," Sydney retorted. She took my coat and hung it in the foyer closet with Eric's. "Come into the sitting room. I've got a fire going. Think about what you'd like to drink. Nonalcoholic, that is." She threw me an apologetic glance.
    "Fine by me," I said, as I tore my gaze from the Tiffany glass skylight in the foyer ceiling. "I never acquired the taste. Not even Communion wine."
    "I liked it too much," Sydney said, looking at me seriously for a moment. She glanced up at her brother, then smiled. "Glenfiddich, not Communion wine. Eight years, ten months, and twenty-one days, in case you were wondering."
    "I wasn't," Eric said. "But thanks for sharing."
    "Don't let his nonchalance fool you," Sydney said to me as she led the way across the large and spacious living room. "I owe my sobriety to him. And a good therapist."
    I digested this information as we walked through the living room. I had developed the impression that Eric's sister could be single-minded in her pursuit of what she wanted and that she succeeded by strength and perseverance. Finding out she had had a drinking problem proved Sydney was human.
    Compared with Eric s deep mahoganies and nubby tweeds, Sydney's home was cool with white carpets and vivid fabrics splashed brilliant reds, blues, and greens. Borders of Tiffany-style stained glass framed the windows, in keeping with the building's art deco exterior. The fireplace was framed with elegant marble fluting right out of the Roaring Twenties. What both homes had in common was simple elegance that didn't look nearly so expensive as it must be. The Van Allen family had a lot of money, old and new.
    My impression of cool aloofness faded when I saw the sitting room. A third of the room was dominated by an old desk, computer workstation, and office gadgets, including a fax machine. The desk was worn and grooved with the scars of many years of work.
    I fell in love with the rest of the room — a large fireplace threw an ocean of heat into the comfortable chairs and sofas in crushed velvets and soft weaves. Instead of the hard, clean jewel tones of the living room, everything in this inner sanctum was softer, warmer, and gentler. The pristine white carpet gave way to a dove gray Berber. A low lavender footstool appeared to be covered by a fluffy gray rug until I realized the rug was peering at me suspiciously. The cat closed its eyes once it had consigned me to the ranks of the uninteresting. I sank into an enormous chair in muted lavender and sea green, surrounded by soft pillows. I immediately wanted to put my head down and burrow deeper with an old, beloved book.
    "Be careful of that chair," Sydney said. "It puts people to sleep."
    I struggled upright. "I think it's bewitched," I said. "It made me want to read Ivanhoe and eat apples."
    Sydney laughed. "Little Women, right?"
    I grinned. "That's amazing."
    "Sydney can identify almost any quote," Eric said, settling into a sofa corner. He