CHAPTER SIX
The self defense class went well, and after it was over the instructor called her to one side and told her that she would be ready for testing at the brown belt level within the next few sessions. She was in a good mood when she went to the showers and dressing room, then it was spoiled somewhat in the showers. A woman's basketball team was showering and dressing, and a tall redhead kept looking at her with a bold stare while she was showering. It was uncomfortable and embarrassing. The woman was very attractive in an Amazonian sort of way, but Janice found her attitude disconcerting. She finished showering and dressed, and she noticed that the woman was starting to follow her as she left. There was a maze of corridors outside the dressing rooms, and Janice doubled back and forth in direction a couple of times to lose her. The appointment to meet Christina Barker at her house had completely slipped her mind until she turned the corner at the end of the street and saw the Lincoln in her driveway. The door on the Lincoln opened and Christina stepped out as she pulled the motorcycle into the driveway and turned it off.
"I'm very sorry I'm late, but I got held up…"
"Oh, forget it," Christina said, waving her hand and smiling. "Listen, someone told me you drove a motorcycle, but I didn't expect anything like this. How on earth do you handle this big thing? You look like a little doll sitting on it – like a little child. I don't mean that in a derogatory sense, of course…"
Janice laughed and shook her head, taking off the helmet and hooking the chin strap onto the back of the seat. "Well, a larger motorcycle is safer, and actually it's easier to handle than a small one."
"But what do you do when you turn it over?"
Janice laughed again. "Well, the idea is, a larger one doesn't turn over. But if I did, I'd have to get help to set it back up – it weighs just under a ton."
"Good Lord! Do you want me to help you put it in the garage?"
"No, I can do it I drive it in." She walked to the garage door, unlocked it, and lifted it. "I'm really sorry that I'm late, Ms. Barker…"
"Please call me Christine."
"Thank you – please call me Janice. And I am sorry I'm late – really." She plugged the keys back into the motorcycle started it, then pushed the kickstand up and slowly drove it into the garage by the Camaro. Christina was reaching up for the garage door as she came back out, carrying the helmet. They pulled it down, and Janice locked it. "There – now let's go in and get a cup of tea, Christina."
"Fine."
They walked around the path to the front door, and Janice unlocked it and flipped on the lights as they walked in. Christina looked around, smiling and nodding. "You have a nice home, Janice."
"Thank you – it's comfortable, and I like it. Have a seat in the living room, and I'll put on some water for tea."
"Please let me help you."
"All right, then," Janice nodded, and they walked into the kitchen. "The cups are in there," she said, nodding toward a cabinet and putting her helmet on the kitchen table.
Christina began taking the cups and saucers out of the cabinet, and Janice filled the kettle and put it on the stove. "Do you prefer a motorcycle to a car?"
Janice nodded. "When I can wear slacks, of course. I enjoy being in the open air."
"You're lucky you can wear slacks," Christina said, nodding at her and glancing down at her slacks. "You look very nice in them, as a matter of fact. I look like acres and acres of legs when I try to wear them."
"I think you have a nice figure, Christina."
"Thank you, but you'll never see me in slacks. I'm simply too tall for them. And you never wear makeup, do you? Anyone else I've ever met would look like hell without makeup, but if everyone had your complexion and coloring the cosmetics firms would go broke."
Janice chuckled. "I'm going to be blushing in a moment, Christina."
Christina smiled, folding her arms and leaning back against the counter. "You are now, a little, and that looks nice, too. Do you like it here, Janice? The city, your work, and everything like that, I mean."
Janice's smile faded and she looked at the kettle, sighing and nodding. "Yes, well, it's… satisfactory. One must work…"
"You're something of a mystery, too – no one seems to know very much about you. I found out more about you in the meeting this morning than I've learned in the past two years. Well… I remember the discussion about the assistant's salary when you took the position. I got the idea that you don't have to work to support yourself."
"That's true. My parents were killed when I was young, and I was left an estate in trust. It came into my possession when I reached thirty."
"You are a native-born American, then?" Janice looked up at her and nodded, smiling.
"Oh, yes. If I have an accent, it's because I spoke German for so long."
"Oh, you don't have an accent – well, not really. Occasionally you'll inflect a word somewhat differently than… well, you don't have an accent. I know what you mean about having to have something to do, though. This trusteeship I more or less inherited from my husband was a Godsend. It's been the organizing and motivating force in my life, really. And it's so interesting. I'm about as creative as a claw hammer, and it's been absolutely fascinating working with people like you. And I don't care what you said about yourself in the meeting today, you're so… accomplished. You always seem to have full command of the situation whenever you want it, and you have such marvelous self control. The meeting today, for example you never raised your voice, but when you said something everyone else shut up and listened. I felt just like running around the table and kissing you, you were so wonderful…" She broke off, suddenly confused and flushing, and she looked down at the floor. "Well…"
Janice turned and dropped tea bags into the cups to relieve the momentary awkwardness, and she felt a warm glow building up within her. "Do you take milk and sugar? The milk's in the refrigerator, there. One sugar or two?"
Janice put the sugar in the cups with the tea bags, then poured in the boiling water. Christina turned away from the refrigerator with the box of milk, and Janice reached for it. Their fingers brushed as she took it, and Christina almost dropped it. "Oh, Christ, I don't know what's wrong with me tonight, Janice."
"It's probably been a long day for you, Christina."
"Lord, you can say that again. But everything's gone fairly well. I saw Barbara Edgemont down at Phillipe's today, and she said she'd talk to her husband about a subscription for the orchestra. As luck would have it, Beverly Collins was there, and her husband put up four thousand last month. Bev made the most of it, of course, and Barbara was simply livid – those two have never been able to get along. So, I think we can depend on at least four thousand from the Edgemonts…"
"You're a genius at that, aren't you?" Janice chuckled, stirring the tea. "The organization's fortunate to have you as a trustee. Come on, and let's take it into the living room."
They walked into the living room with their cups, and Christina looked at the picture of Lisa on the piano with a long, thoughtful glance as she sat down by Janice on the couch. "That damned Chumley's a nosy bastard – he really is. I hate to bring him up, but I'm really glad that Carleton put him down good and solid after the meeting. I don't like nosy people, because… well, there's some things about me that I wouldn't want… widely known."
Janice nodded, sipping her tea, and put the cup down on the coffee table. "Everyone has things they'd as soon keep private."
Christina looked down at the floor, thinking a moment, then she glanced at Janice as she took a sip of her tea and put the cup on the coffee table. "Well, in my case it's somewhat more than that," she murmured. "There were a couple of times when…" She sighed and sat back, inspecting her fingernails. "There's nothing that I'm ashamed of, but there are things that I wouldn't…"