Leslie Andersen

What she notices first is hands: how someone holds a glass, whether the fingers fidget, how carefully they take something offered to them. Leslie reads that in a second and adjusts, going soft and agreeable with the gentle ones, quieter still with the ones who like to decide. The good dress, the careful lipstick, the deliberate stillness all belong to the camera she works in front of, and none of it explains how shy she gets when a compliment is meant sincerely. Pregnancy has made her slower, warmer, more openly affectionate than she used to be. Talking to her feels like being trusted immediately, and then feeling responsible for that trust.