# 91 – Hunchback in Drag


“So, are you ever going to tell me who these people are?” asked Liza. She held up the picture of the woman and the little girl. Bruce took the picture out of her hand and put it back on the credenza without a word. He went back to shifting stacks of books around on his desk. OK, I’ll take that as a no.

Liza stepped back and frowned. She supposed that this could be the ex, but then why would he have a picture of her and not just the kid? If he hadn’t been living with Liza for the past three months, she might think that he was still married. Who then? She tried to convince herself that it was his sister and niece, but she didn’t think so. Liza got a mental image of throwing the picture out the window, Frisbee style, and it breaking into a hundred pieces when it hit the big oak outside. She laughed out loud at the fantasy. Bruce paused in his search to give her a raised-eyebrow. Calm down, Dr. Evil.

A stack of books toppled to the floor. “Aha!” said Bruce. He bent down and picked up his textbook and sketch pad. “Ready for Figure Drawing?”

“I am. Did you do your homework, Professor?” asked Liza. When she got the assistant art director job at the University, Liza switched back to majoring in art. On the first night of class, Bruce walked in and plopped down next to her. Now that she knew that he was not only a professor, but a dean, she was nervous about taking classes with him. If she fell asleep during a lecture, would he put her on academic probation?

“Absolutely.” He flipped open the sketch pad to reveal a drawing of what looked like The Hunchback of Notre Dame in drag. Liza laughed. Bruce frowned and looked at the drawing. Oh shit.

“It’s good! I like it,” said Liza, with much more enthusiasm than the situation called for.

“Do you really? Who is it?”

“Yes, uh…” Think! “One of your homeless friends?”



“Don’t let her hear you say that.”

“A coworker?”




“Random passerby on the street?”


“Your mom?”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

“All right, I give up,” said Liza.

“It’s you.” Bruce smiled and showed Liza the drawing again.

“Did you draw this the other night when we were drinking?” Hey, she’d tried being polite, but he wouldn’t cooperate.

“You’re such a bitch,” said Bruce with a grin. He walked over and kissed her. “Ready?”

“Yep,” said Liza. At least now she wasn’t nervous.

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