“Magic words?”
“Will you marry me?”
“She’s that serious, huh?”
“Yeah, I think so. She’s ready to settle down. She wants a house and kids.
Normal stuff. Straight stuff.”
“And what do you want?”
“A big studio and one of those little dogs I can carry in a camera bag.”
I laughed. “Not a wife and kids?”
“Are you kidding? With Ronnie and Queen Nancy in the White House?
Right.” She held the phone away from her mouth. “Uh-oh. I hear her key in the door. Gotta go. Thanks for calling. Talk to you later. Bye!”
I chuckled and hung up.
Christy was asleep in my chair upstairs. The bottle of wine was empty. I fetched a blanket from her studio and covered her with it. Then I pulled out my stool and went back to work on my painting.
I spent an hour touching up the exterior painting and then another on the interior one. I used clothespins to hang them to dry. Christy hadn’t moved.
No wonder, since it was after two o’clock. And if I had to bet, my stupid internal clock would wake me before six.
I turned off the lights and scooped Christy into my arms, blanket and all. I carried her downstairs and into her bedroom. She woke up enough to mumble thanks.
“Want me to undress you for bed?” I teased.
“Uh-uh. Not till we’re married.”
I laughed softly. “Gonna happen long before then. But not tonight.”
I set her on the bed and pulled the blanket over her. Then I kissed her forehead. “Sleep tight.”
“You’re s’posed t’ say ‘sweet dreams.’”
“All right. Sweet dreams.”
“Mmm. Of penises.”
“And erections,” I added with a smile.
Chapter 18
Wren fixed a special dinner on Friday. We’d all had a tough week and wanted a bit of a celebration. She made trout amandine with steamed vegetables. It was disgustingly healthy, but Christy saved the day with a sinful almond pound cake. Afterward we opened a bottle of amaretto that someone had left at the Halloween party.
Trip swirled the amber liquid in his glass. “You know, I really enjoy these dinners, just the four of us.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. It sounded too pat.
He knew he’d been caught. His look said it all, Sorry, dude. She put me up to it.
I chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” Wren said.
“You,” I said. “And you know why.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said loftily.
“Sure you don’t. But yeah, I enjoy them too. And thanks for cooking.
Thank you, Christy, for supplying the calories the fish and vegetables were missing.”
“Don’t blame me,” she said, “I’m trying to gain weight.”
Three pairs of eyes rolled.
“I’m serious. You have no idea how hard it is.”
“Sorry, my love,” Wren said. “None of us have any sympathy.”
“Paul does.”
“I do? Since when?”
“Since you told me I couldn’t be a starving artist.”
“Maybe you should try a liquid diet,” Wren suggested.
My eyes snapped to her.
She ignored me.
“Do you think it would help?” Christy asked earnestly.
“It might,” Wren said. “You’d have to drink everything through a special straw.”
“That’s okay. I love straws.”
“You’d need a big one.”
“The bigger the better.”
I had a hard time keeping a straight face. Trip wasn’t in on the joke, but he figured it out pretty quickly.
“You’d have to swallow a lot at once,” Wren said.
“I can do that. And if I can’t, I’ll just drink more often.”
“That might work. It really depends on the straw.”
“Yeah,” Christy said. “Some are better than others.”
I lost it at that point.
Christy looked confused.
“You explain it to her,” I said to Wren through tears of laughter.
“Explain what?”
“I’ll tell you later,” Wren said. Then she smirked at me. “Two. Zip.”
“Oh, absolutely,” I said. “Well played. Very well played.”
Christy was naïve, not stupid. She thought back and realized what Wren had really been talking about. She threw her napkin at her.
“That’s just mean,” she added. “I thought you were serious!”
“I’m sorry,” Wren said. Her ear-to-ear grin said different. “I couldn’t help it. You were just so enthusiastic.”
“Yeah, and dumb!”
“Not dumb. Just…”
“Beautifully clueless,” I finished for her. I smiled at Christy. “Don’t worry. I’m the same way. Not as beautiful, but a lot more clueless.”
The phone rang. I was the closest to the kitchen, so I went to answer it. I was still chortling as I picked up the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Paul?”
I cleared my throat and turned serious in a hurry. “Hi. How’re you? Hold on a sec. Lemme switch phones.”
“Who is it?” Wren asked from the dining room.
I stuck my head into the doorway. “It’s for me. Long-distance. From California.” I felt a stab of guilt at the half-truth. “I’m gonna take it upstairs.”
I caught Trip’s eye. “Will you hang this up for me?” He was farthest from the kitchen, but I didn’t want either of the girls to hear who was on the other end of the line.
“Um… sure,” he said.
Wren looked suspicious until Christy started up again.
“I can’t believe you did that!”
“I wasn’t doing it to you. I was teasing Paul! ”
“That doesn’t make it any better.”
I handed the phone to Trip and said in a low voice, “Cover me.”
“Yeah, sure, of course.”
I slipped past him and edged around the arguing girls. I sprang up the stairs two at a time and skidded to a halt in my bedroom. I kicked the door shut and swiped the phone off its cradle. “I got it,” I said into it.
“Okay,” Trip said. “Looks like we averted World War III down here.”
“Thanks, man.”
“Don’t mention it.”
The line clicked.
“Are you still there?” I said, a little breathlessly.
Gina laughed. “What was that about?”
“Long story. Hold on a second.” I tried to control my breathing as I listened for telltale clicks or breaks in the line. I didn’t want a certain meddling matchmaker to pick up an extension and listen in. “Okay,” I said at last. “Go ahead.”
“Is it a good time?”
“Yep. We were just sitting around after dinner.”
“Ah, okay. I just got home from the clinic.”
“Good day?”
“Yes, but a lot better when I came home.”
“Oh, why? What’s up?”
“Three things. First, I read your latest letter. So I was thinking of you.”
“In a good way?”
“Very good.”
“Cool.”
“Second, Regan has a date tonight. She already left, so I have the apartment to myself.”
“Does that—?”
“Third, I’m running a hot bath right now.”
“Yep,” I said with a laugh, “that means what I think it does.”
“Oh? What do you think?”
“Let me ask you a question first. What’re you wearing?”
“The pearls your parents gave me.”
“Anything else?”
“A smile.”
“Yep, it means what I think it does.”
“You know me so well.”
“I do. But I’m way overdressed for this call.”
“Oh? What’re you wearing?”
I skinned out of my clothes in record time.
She laughed at all the rustling.
“Sorry, bad connection,” I said at last. “What’d you say?”
“I said…” She turned on her sexiest voice, “What’re you wearing?”
“A goofy grin.”