010314 #jonquil She went first to the laundry room, where Bozo tried to make love to her ankles. She threw one of his nasty rubber bones into a corner to get him off her, and proceeded to heave the wet clothes from the enormous washer into the equally cavernous dryer. She threw in the exact right amounts of detergent and fabric softener, and set the dials on exactly the right settings. The basket of already clean clothes was overflowing, so she picked it up and carried it through the spacious kitchen, dining room, open sitting room, and back hallway to the master bedroom, where there was never anyone around when Gwen was here, but where she could always smell and sense the recent nearness of the rich girl's parents. It was almost too personal, and smelled like cologne, skin, and sleep. She sat on the firm, memory-foam edge of the king-sized bed, and started folding laundry.