Joan went into Jake's bathroom, primarily to snoop. She had just found something she half expected to find—when she heard Jake's voice. "Hey! Where are you? Oh! Coming, or going? Fixed you Chablis over ice, best I could do."
"That'll do fine. Jake. Was this hers?" She held up a luxurious negligee—two ounces of cobweb.
Jake gulped. "Yes. Sorry."
"I'm not sorry." Suddenly Joan stripped off the ClingOns, shoved down her frill-skirt panties and stepped out of them, leaving her bare from sandals to eyebrows, put on the negligee. "Do I wear it the way she would? Wups, I wrapped it man-style." She rewrapped the lap-over to the left. "Do I do her justice?"
"Eunice! Eunice?'
She folded it back, let it slither to the floor, went into his arms, let him sob against her face: "That's enough, darling, Eunice doesn't want you to cry. Eunice wants you to be happy. Both Eunice and Joan Eunice. Hold me tight, Jake. We're lost and lonely—and all we have is each other." While she cuddled him and soothed him, she opened the zipdown of his shirt. (Eunice, I'm scared!) (Easy does it, dear. Chant the Money Hum to yourself; I've taken over. Om Mani Padme Hum.) (Om Mani Padme Hum. Om Mani—)
Joan was jerked out of it by the telephone signal. She pulled her mouth from Jake's and started to cry. "Oh, damn!"
Jake said huskily, "Ignore it. It's a mistake, no one knows I'm here."
"Uh—If we don't answer, they'll try again and interrupt us again. I'll take care of it, dear. Where is the pesky thing?
Living room?"
"Yes, but there's an extension over there."
"Keep thinking nice thoughts." Joan hurried over, high heels tapping, stood close to the pickup so that only her face would be seen, flipped the switch—said in Eunice's most crisp secretarial voice: "Mr. Salomon's residence. Who is calling?"
The screen stayed blank. "Recorded. Urgent call for Counselor Salomon, third attempt."
"Urgency noted. Proceed. Who is calling?"
Another voice came on, screen still blank. "This is Mr. Salomon's answering service. Judge McCampbell has placed an urgent call. I told the Judge that the Counselor was more likely to be at his club or at the Johann Smith residence, but he insisted that I keep trying this code, too. Is he there?"
"One moment." Joan glanced back, noted with annoyance that Jake had closed his shirt and picked up her clothes. "I have Mr. Salomon. Can you reach Judge McCampbell? I will hold."
"Thank you. One moment."
Joan stepped still closer and tilted the pickup to make certain that it caught only her face. Jake stepped up by her, handed her her clothes. She accepted them, did not, put them on.
The screen lighted. "Jake, we— Hey! Brother Schmidt!"
"Alec! How nice!"
"Step back so I can see you, dear. Mac, don't shove,"
Train added as the Judge's face appeared by his in the screen. "Is Jake there?"
"Right beside me, boys."
"All I can see is his shirt. Stand on a box, honey, so that you're both on screen; this must be a four-way conference. Or back away."
"Here he is." Joan tilted the pickup higher, reluctantly pressed the cups to her breasts, stepped into her frill-skirt, wiggled it into place. Then she backed off. "Can you see me now?"
"Not well enough," the Judge's resonant baritone answered. "Jake, back off a little. Joan, you need a stool.
Better yet, Jake, hold her up in your arms—you lucky man."
"What's the message, gentlemen? And, thank you Judge, for your flitter. We were delivered quickly and safely."
"De nada, compadre. Jake, my old roomie got a brilliant idea—no doubt through long association with me." The Judge explained what each was willing to do in order to speed confirmation of Joan's identity. "This can be our comm center. I am going to live in my chambers a few days—ready to issue a warrant, phone a judge in another jurisdiction or whatever. Then we'll rush it through my court and crowd them into an appeal—get this nailed down tight. Meanwhile Alec is your man Friday. Want him to go anywhere in a hurry? He's stupid but healthy, and losing a night's sleep to time-zone changes is good for him."
"Probably not before morning. But I'm relieved, gentlemen; I've been wondering how I could be everywhere 1 need to be. Since I'm retired from everything but Joan's personal affairs, I'm without staff—and I've been cudgeling my brain trying to think whom I could get who would be reliable and competent. As we all know, this is touchy."
"We know!" agreed Alec. "And we're going to fix those harpies—aren't we, Mac?"
"Yes—but legally and so that it cannot be reversed. Jake, you can reach us here—and don't hesitate to wake us if you decide you want Alec to catch a midnight liner. Where will you be? Your house?"
"Until my car arrives; then we'll be at Joan's. Or on our way. My answering service can flip you into my car's wavelength. It's a longish drive."
"We'll be in touch. Don't worry, Jake, and don't let Joan worry. We'll have her baptized before you can say ‘missing heir.'
"I'm not worried," said Joan, "but I feel like crying. Boys—Brothers—how can 1 thank you?"
"Shall we tell her, Mac? Would she blush? Thank me, that is, Brother Schmidt; don't thank Brother Mac; he's just doing his duty, what the taxpayers reluctantly pay him for. But you can thank me—I'ma volunteer."
"I'll thank you both, in whatever way you wish," Joan said, simply.
"You heard that, Mac? Brother Schmidt committed herself—and you can't break a promise between Brothers, that's the old Bita Pi law. Brother Schmidt Joan Eunice honey, back off and let us see all of you. Jake, get out of pickup; you ruin the composition. Go have a beer. Take a nap."
"Ignore him, he1s drunk." advised his former roommate.
"So's Mac, we've been working on it. But I'm not too drunk to hop a guided missile, Jake, if you say to."
"Jake," said the. Judge, "this is getting out of hand. Not that I disagree with this low forehead's enthusiasm. Good night, sir. Good night, Joan. Off."
Joan Eunice flipped the switch, made certain that the screen was dead, started undressing.
"Joan. Stop that."
She went on removing her saucy, scanty clothing, heeled off her sandals, then stood facing him. "Jake, I refuse to be treated like a porcelain doll. You hid me expecting to be treated as a woman."
He sighed. "I know. But the golden moment passed."
"Well... I'm not going to dress. You've seen this body many times, we both know—and I want us both to get easy about it. Actually I'm shy, Jake; I'm only weeks old, as a woman, and not used to it. But I want to get used to it. With you."
"Well— As you wish, dear; you know how beautiful I think you are. What shall we do? Read aloud to each other till my car arrives? Watch video?"
"Beast. If you were a gentleman you would at least take your clothes off. Instead you are a difficult, stubborn beast and I don't know why I love you. Except that Eunice loved you—loves you, wherever she is—so I have to love you. Jake, if you won't take me to bed, at least sit down in that big chair and let me crawl up into your lap. We can talk. We'll talk about Eunice."
He sighed. "Girl, you'll give me a heart attack yet. All right, come curl up in my lap. On one condition."
"Jake, I'm not sure I'll agree to any conditions. I'm in a very unstable state."
"You certainly are, dear. But it's my lap. No ticky, no washee."
"I should go back to the courthouse; I don't think Mac and Alec would insist on conditions. .Might as well relax, Jake; I'm climbing into your lap with no more yatter. There! That's better. Arms around me, please."
"First the condition. That you not try to rape me in a chair—"
"Don't think I could."
"You'd be surprised what can be done in a chair, Joan."