The bathroom door opened and feet traversed the upstairs hallway, stopping at the head of the stairs. “Somebody down there?”
“It’s just us, Mrs. Dugan,” Jake answered. “We were having a bite to eat before coming to bed.”
“It’s late. It’s time nice young ladies were in bed.”
“I’m trying,” Jake sighed.
“Alone!”
“Why couldn’t you adopt a bunch of old ladies who were hard of hearing?” Jake asked Berry.
Berry smiled in spite of herself. “And then there are good-night kisses that simply say, Good night.”
Chapter Six
He was doing it again. He was dressing in front of her. The man was a flaming exhibitionist. Berry huddled under her covers and listened to the sounds of buttons and zippers. He had no modesty. He had no scruples.
“Aren’t you dressed yet?” she asked.
“Why don’t you come out from under those covers and find out?”
Berry didn’t have to come out from under the covers. She knew he wasn’t dressed. She could tell by the goose bumps on her arm. Damn him, anyway.
“Why do you have to get dressed in my room?”
“Because this is my room, too. Because this is where my clothes are. Because there are little old ladies occupying both bathrooms, and I’m in a hurry this morning. Because I get my kicks this way, and with Mrs. Dugan around kicks are hard to come by-you have to take them when you can.” He pulled the covers back and kissed her forehead. “You should have looked. It would have been a lot more fun.”
He was wearing gray slacks, and a blue button-down shirt. Berry watched him move to his closet and select a tie from a well-stocked rack. “Did you really want me to look?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You would have been the only one undressed. Wouldn’t you have been embarrassed?”
“Yeah. That’s the fun part. You know what happens when men get embarrassed? They get-”
“I know what they get. And you’d better not!”
He gave his tie a small tug and turned to face her. “What do you think? Do I look like a first-grade teacher?”
Berry thought he looked more like a fully clothed model for a Chippendale’s calendar. She sat up in bed and told her heart to stop jumping around like that. He was just a man, for goodness’ sake. An ordinary man wearing a pair of pants that were perfectly tailored across his slim hips and nifty butt. An ordinary man wearing a shirt that was exquisitely cut to fit luscious broad shoulders and a just-right muscled chest that tapered down to a hard, flat stomach. Why on earth was she getting so tense over this ordinary man?
Because he wasn’t ordinary. He was totally delicious and she should have looked. She was a fool not to have looked. After all, she had already seen almost all of him. There was only about five or six inches left to her imagination. The memory of those six inches could probably have carried her through old age. She stared at him in her best attempt at unblinking serenity.
“You look very nice,” she said. “Any first grader would be proud to have you for a teacher.”
“Thanks,” he said. “I have to run. I’ve called the rental agency. They’re sending a car around for you to use. Should be here by eight o’clock.”
A cab beeped in the driveway. Jake took keys and loose change from the bureau top and grabbed a navy blazer from the closet.
Berry listened to him bound down the stairs and out the door. She sprang from her bed and rushed to her window for one last glimpse of him. Too late. He was gone. He was dressed. “Dammit,” she whispered, “I really should have looked.”
She was still thinking about it at the breakfast table when she noticed an unusual silence. Everyone was watching her.
“Something wrong?” Berry asked.
“No,” Mrs. Fitz said.
“Nothing?”
“Uh-uh. Nothing wrong with me,” Mrs. Dugan said.
Berry looked at the clean teacups and unused cereal bowls. “Not eating?”
“Maybe later.”
“In a minute.”
“Not just yet.”
“Not even tea?” Berry asked.
Mrs. Fitz fidgeted in her seat. “Well, we brewed some. We just haven’t gotten around to drinking it yet.”
Berry poured herself a bowl of cereal and reached for the milk. She stopped short. “Oh.”
“Something wrong, dear?”
“No. Of course not.” She stared at the milk carton. She stared at the cereal. It looked like raisin bran. She gently pushed the raisins around with the tip of her finger. She raised her eyes to the three women. “Looks like raisin bran.”
“Yes.”
“I thought so, too.”
“Uh-huh.”
Berry sniffed at the bowl. “Smells like raisin bran.”
“Does it?”
“That’s good.”
Mrs. Fitz narrowed her eyes. “Okay, pour the milk in.”
Berry pushed the bowl over to her. “You pour the milk in.”
Mrs. Fitz pushed the bowl back. “Not me. No way. No, sir. Took me half an hour to get the cereal out of my hair yesterday.”
Berry compressed her lips. “This is ridiculous. This is just plain old raisin bran.” She moved her seat back a few inches and dribbled some milk into her bowl. Nothing happened.
“Stir it,” Mrs. Fitz suggested.
Berry stirred it. It didn’t crackle or pop. It didn’t fly out into space. It didn’t even bloat. “Raisin bran.”
Mrs. Fitz filled her bowl. “Thank the Lord, I’m so hungry I could eat a horse.”
Miss Gaspich served tea, and all three women sipped timidly.
“Tastes like tea,” Miss Gaspich offered.
Mrs. Dugan agreed.
Mrs. Fitz swallowed a spoonful of cereal. “Don’t know whether I’m relieved or disappointed, but I’ll tell you one thing. Tomorrow morning I’m getting up in time to have breakfast with Jake. From now on he eats everything first.”
Berry ladled a generous helping of tomato sauce onto a pizza round and covered it with mozzarella. She drizzled a smidgen of olive oil and fresh basil across the masterpiece and looked up as the front door swung open and Jake sidled through carrying two grocery bags. He was followed by an elderly man, also carrying a grocery bag. From the corner of her eye Berry saw Mrs. Fitz wipe her hands on her apron and pat her hair into place.
“Bandit at six o’clock,” Mrs. Fitz whispered, “I’m going in for the kill.”
“Mrs. Fitz, you’ve been watching too much television.”
“Movies. Isn’t that Brad Pitt a honey?”
Jake set the bags on the counter and extracted four plastic cartons containing salad. “Where’s Miss Gaspich and Mrs. Dugan?”
“Their night off.”
Jake pulled a stool up to the counter. “Here you go, Harry. We’re missing two ladies. Guess you’ll have to eat lots of salad.” Jake made a sweeping gesture with his hand. “Berry and Mrs. Fitz, I’d like you to meet my good friend Harry Fee.”
Mrs. Fitz held out her hand. “My name’s Lena. Here’s a fork. You want to go to the movies later?”
Berry raised her eyebrows at Jake. “I’d like to see you back by the refrigerator, please.”
Jake brought a bag with him and haphazardly transferred food from the bag to the refrigerator.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Berry whispered.
“Putting the food away.”
“I don’t mean about the food. Wait a minute, why are you putting all this food in here? Yogurt? Oranges? Is this tuna salad?”
“You never eat anything. When the ladies were upstairs they made you come up for supper. Now that they’re at my house you make do with candy bars.”
“Who told you that?”
“I have my sources.”
“It’s a lie. I take good care of myself… most of the time,” Berry said.