Alexi found her white terry robe, finished her coffee and considered exploring the upstairs for a bedroom and bath. Then, deciding that she would tackle the upstairs after she was dressed, she called and asked the steam cleaners in town to come out. Once they were finished, she would start vacuuming and sweeping and choose a room for herself. She really wasn't afraid of a few spiders and bugs--she just wanted to be a bit more fortified to deal with them.
So, determined, she grabbed her robe and headed for the little powder room beneath the stairs. She had noticed the night before that it did have a small shower stall. In fact, the little bathroom was really quite nice--tiled in soft mauve, with a darker purple-and-gold-lined wallpaper. Gene must have had it updated fairly recently.
Alexi turned on the light and grimaced at her reflection in the mirror over the sink. There were purple shadows beneath her red-rimmed eyes. She certainly didn't look one bit like the Helen of Troy lady. She was pale and drawn and resembled a wide-eyed, frightened child. She pinched her cheeks, then laughed, because she hadn't given them any color at all. She reflected a bit wryly that the only real beauty to her face lay in its shape; it was what was called a classical oval, with nice high cheekbones. John had told her once that a myriad of sins could be forgiven if one's cheekbones were good.
She laughed suddenly; she looked like hell, cheekbones or no.
"Tonight," she promised her reflection out loud, "I am going to sleep!"
Sobering, she turned away from her image and stripped off her clothing; there were a million things she wanted to do that day. Clean, clean, clean. And Rex was supposed to be bringing a new hose for the car. She also wanted a stereo system and a television--modern amenities that had never interested Gene.
Alexi stepped into the little shower stall, surprised and pleased to see the modern shower-massage fixtures. She fiddled with the faucets, gasped as the water streamed out stone-cold, swore softly--then breathed a sigh of relief as heat came into the water. For several long, delighted moments she just stood there, feeling the delicious little needles of wet heat sear her skin. Steam rose all around her, and she closed her eyes, enjoying it. The shower felt so good, in fact, that everything began to look better. The Brandywine house was beautiful. A little elbow grease and she could make it into a showplace again. Gene had really done quite a bit already; the kitchen was warm and nice, and this little bathroom was just fine. Of course, she could see all sorts of possibilities. The kitchen could use a window seat, a big one, with plump, comfortable cushions,
Some copper implements, some plants. It was a huge room and could be made into an exquisite family center.
Alexi reached for the shampoo, scrubbed it into her hair and rinsed it. She paused then, reflecting that she really did mean to get things together.
She really couldn't wait to ask Rex in for a drink or a cup of coffee once she had things straightened out. I wonder why, she thought as the water beat against her face. Because, she reasoned, everything had gone wrong every time she'd seen him. She just wanted something to go right.
As she stood there, a little curl, warm and shimmering, began to wind in her stomach. She inhaled and exhaled quickly, alarmed at the realization that she wanted to see him again...just because she wanted to see him again. She was eager to hear the tone of his voice; she felt secure and comfortable when he was near.
It was a foolish feeling. She didn't want any entanglements; she didn't think she was really even capable of an entanglement. But the feeling was there, an ache, a nostalgia, poignant and sweet. She wanted to see him. No...he didn't even want her in the house. He wanted the land all to himself. He saw her as an intrusion on his privacy. But she couldn't help it; she found herself wondering about his relationships with other women. He had been blunt about his divorce, more cold than bitter. Yet she knew that his marriage had left a taste of ash in his mouth. Still, having met him...having experienced that strange feeling of intimacy on the first night, she started to shiver again.
She couldn't imagine him being alone, either. He was a man who liked women, who would attract them easily-- with or without fame and fortune. But once burned... She Knew the feeling well. He was quiet in his way; he spoke Plainly but gave away very little emotion, it wasn't there to give. But she had been determined to come into the shower and scrub her hair and herself and be as...perfect as she could be. For when she saw him again. She didn't want to be breaking in; she didn't want to be running because she'd blown a hose in the car. She wanted to be composed and poised. Perhaps even cool...cool enough to regain the control that seemed to be slipping from her.
Alexi sighed and turned off the shower. She had steamed herself until the water had gone cold as she'd thought about Rex Morrow. If she could put that much concentration into the house, she'd have it a showplace in no time.
Alexi opened the shower door and groped for her towel. She found it and patted her face, blinking to clear her eyes. The mist from the shower should have cleaned her lenses somewhat, but they felt grittier than ever. It must have been all the dust from last night, she reasoned.
She started to step out of the stall, then noticed a curious dark line on the floor. A wire? She blinked, wishing again that she had better luck with her lenses. There shouldn't be a wire on the floor.
Nor did wires move by themselves.
Alexi gasped, hypnotized at first. There was something on the floor about a foot long and as thick as a telephone wire. Except that the top of this wire was rising and moving, and it had a little red ribbon of color right under the...
The head!
"Oh, my God!" she breathed aloud.
It was a snake--a small one, but a snake nonetheless, slithering, slinking across the bathroom floor.
Her throat constricted; she didn't move. She didn't know whether the snake was poisonous or not, and at that point it didn't really matter. She hated snakes; they scared her to death.
The creature paused, raised its head again, then started slithering toward the toilet bowl.
She swallowed. She had to move.
Trembling, Alexi reached out for her robe. Soaking wet, she slipped into it and belted it, still standing in the shower stall--and barely blinking as she kept her eyes trained on the snake; In desperation she looked around the little bathroom. A little tile side pocket in the wall held a magazine. Alexi grabbed it and rolled it up.
Panicked thoughts whirled through her mind. If she didn't kill it on the first swipe, would it bite her? She could just run....
No. Because if it slithered out of sight, she would never, never be able to sleep in the house again.
She stepped from the shower stall with her rolled-up weapon. She inhaled sharply, then smacked the snake. She jumped back, screaming. The blow hadn't stopped the creature in the least. It was just writhing and slinking more wildly now.
She attacked again--and again. Somewhere in her mind she realized that paper would not kill the serpent. It might not be big, but it had a tough hide.
Finally, though, the thing stopped. Or almost stopped. She had most of the body smashed against the base of the toilet. Only the head wavered a bit.
She swallowed sickly. What was the damn thing doing in her house? She felt like a torturer--but she was terrified.
Alexi dropped the paper. She had to get something. A spade--something with which she could scoop the creature up and out.
And kill it. It wasn't dead--and even though it was a snake, she hated to think of herself torturing the thing. She backed away, then ran--into the kitchen and into the pantry. She wasn't sure what lay in the bottom shelves, but she had seen a number of tools there.