Back to the Bedroom

  Dave flopped an arm over her. “Something wrong?”

  Kate sighed.

  He opened one eye and looked at her. “That was an awfully big sigh. You’re not still worried about your mother, are you? She’ll be fine. She probably doesn’t even remember sliding off her chair.”

  “We need to talk.”

  “Okay.”

  She made a dismayed sound when she felt him stir against her. “This is serious!”

  “I know. I think I have terminal lust.”

  “Maybe it would be better if we did this at the breakfast table.”

  “That’s a little kinky, but I’m game if you are.”

  Kate swung her cast over the side of the bed. “I meant talk!”

  “We could do that, too.”

  She pulled on a pair of sweats that had been cut off above the knee and dropped a sweatshirt over her head. “I need coffee.”

  Dave groggily glanced at the clock. Six-fifteen. Groan. Why did she always have to be up at the crack of dawn? “Be right with you,” he said.

  Three hours later he opened his eyes and knew he was in big trouble. He dressed in the first thing he found lying on his bedroom floor and plodded down the stairs to an empty house. She’d made coffee and drunk it, and she’d finished off the pineapple upside-down cake from the night before. Her crutches were gone. Her cello was gone. The light of his life was gone. He stuffed his feet into a pair of white sneakers and went next door.

  “ ’Morning,” he said when Kate answered the door. “Are we living here now?”

  Kate examined him from head to toe. His hair hadn’t been combed, he needed a shave, his shoelaces were untied, and she was positive he wasn’t wearing any underwear. He was adorable… but he was a slob. She’d already showered, put in two hours of practice, and called almost all her private pupils. The best she could say about Dave was that he was on his feet. She shook her head. “How can you stand to waste a morning like this?”

  “I’m not a morning person. Why did you leave?”

  She’d left because she couldn’t stand him sleeping upstairs while she was pacing downstairs. She knew it was stupid, but it infuriated her to be working her buns off trying to perfect Suite 5 while Dave had his face smashed into a pillow. “This isn’t going to work.”

  “No?” What the devil was she talking about?

  “We’re just too different.”

  “Un-huh.”

  Kate tipped her nose up a fraction of an inch and pushed on. “I need a man who’s more… conventional.”

  “I’m conventional. I don’t have any tattoos. I wear oxford cloth button-downs when I go to a restaurant. I live in a house.”

  “You don’t have a job.”

  “I don’t need a job. I’m rich.”

  Kate studied her feet. “I don’t think I can live with that.”

  “You have something against money?”

  “No. I like money. I just don’t think I could live with a playboy. I’m a very motivated person. I feel uncomfortable living with a man who’s not equally motivated.”

  Dave followed her into the kitchen. “I’m motivated.”

  “Sex doesn’t count.”

  He went into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator door, and helped himself to a carton of orange juice. “Oh, now that really hurts.”

  “Dave, you don’t do anything. You play with toys all day. You read comic books.”

  “I like toys and comic books. That doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy other activities. I read the paper. I read best sellers. I read cereal boxes.” He poured himself a glass of juice and drank it. “You underestimate me. You think I’m just another pretty face.”

  “Okay, so you read cereal boxes. What else do you do?”

  “I draw cartoons.”

  Kate sat on a straight-backed chair and tuned her cello. “I mean what real things do you do?”

  “Cartoons are real.”

  “We aren’t making much progress here. Our personality types are too different. I’m type A, and you’re type… I don’t know if you have a type.”

  “I don’t see why this job stuff is so important. Seems to me if you loved me, it wouldn’t matter what I did for a living.”

  “It’s because I love you that it matters. I don’t want to mess up your life with a relationship that’s doomed from the start.”

  He raked his hand through his hair. “Hell, don’t you think it’s a little late for that? Don’t you understand… I don’t have a life without you.”

  Kate clenched her teeth and swallowed back the tears that were burning in her throat. She found she couldn’t talk, so she played. Bach. Suite 5. It was awful. She concentrated on the sheet music, but the notes were wavering in front of her. She blinked away the tears and attacked the opening passage. When she finally looked up, he was gone.

  Kate got out of the cab, swearing. She stuffed her crutches under her arm and looked contemptuously at the cello case sitting at the curb. “Great. Just great. How am I going to get this thing into the house?” She would have asked the cab driver, but he didn’t speak English. Elsie. No. Elsie would still be at bingo. Dave. He was the only one left. “Damn!”

  She swung her crutch at her garbage can, lost her balance, and fell flat on her back. “Dave!” No response. “David Dodd!”

  Dave ambled down his steps and stood over her. She was wearing her long black velvet dress and black velvet cape, and she was stretched out in a pool of lamplight. “Why are you lying on the sidewalk?”

  “I fell.”

  “I suppose you want me to pick you up.”

  Kate gritted her teeth. “That would be nice.”

  “Haven’t seen you in a couple of days.”

  “Are you going to help me up, or what?”

  Dave rocked back on his heels and crossed his arms loosely over his chest. “I don’t know if I should. You kicked me out of your life.”

  “Anybody ever tell you that you have a mean streak?” She saw the smile flash across his face and felt her heart stop. Lord, she loved him! How’d she ever get herself into this mess?

  He drew her to her feet and dusted her off. “You have a concert tonight?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Why are you home so early? It’s only nine o’clock.”

  She narrowed her eyes, whirled around on her plaster-encased foot, and hobbled toward her house. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Dave picked up the crutches and the cello case and followed after her. He took her key, opened her door, and then carried her up the stairs. “Everything has its price. I picked you up, and now you have to tell me all the awful details of the evening.” He turned on the light and looked around in surprise. “You have furniture.”

  “The real estate lady said it would help to sell the house. Besides, I have students coming over here for lessons now. Their mothers need a place to sit.”

  He untied the narrow velvet bow at the neck of her cape and let it slide from her shoulders. Her dress had a low neck, ending where the swell of her breast began. The dress hugged her slim waist and the curve of one hip before falling to the floor in a full skirt. Around her neck she wore a cameo on a velvet ribbon, and her cameo earrings matched. Classy, Dave thought. And very sexy. He stuffed his hands into his pockets to keep from running his finger along the neckline. “Sounds like you’re getting your life in order.”

  Kate winced at the pain behind his eyes. She’d hurt him, and she couldn’t make it better. The knowledge was almost worse than her own misery.

  “Sometimes good things come out of bad things. I can’t drive, so I arranged to have my students take their lessons here. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. It saves me a lot of time, and I don’t have to brave the traffic.”

  An awkward silence stretched between them. He wasn’t going to make this easy, she thought. He was going to quietly stand his ground and make her come to him. He had good instincts, she decided. He knew if he didn’t push, she’d resume the friends
hip. But that was as far as it would go. Friendship.

  She smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from her velvet skirt. “Would you like a cup of coffee? I bought a coffeemaker.”

  “Coffee would be nice.”

  He watched her swing off to the kitchen on the crutches and thought they looked incongruous with the elegant black gown. She must have been a sight onstage at the Kennedy Center with her bare toes peeking out from the white plaster. She wasn’t long on common sense, but you had to respect her dedication.

  She leaned one crutch against the counter while she filled the coffeemaker with water. “I’m not up to grinding my own beans yet, but I got a special blend at the deli.”

  “Better be careful or before you know it, you’ll be cooking.”

  Kate snorted. “That’s one way to kill time on your hands.”

  Dave leaned back in a kitchen chair. “You have time on your hands?”

  “I’ve been given six weeks’ sick leave. I’m not to come back until my cast is off.”

  “Does that have something to do with your foul mood?”

  Kate’s shoulders sagged. She might as well tell him. He was going to pry it out of her sooner or later. “Things didn’t go as smoothly as I’d anticipated.”

  “How rough was it?”

  “I trashed the entire string section.”

  “Didn’t mess with the brass, huh?”

  “Well, yes, actually some of the brass went, too.”

  Dave’s eyes were wide. “You did this on-stage?”

  “Of course I did it onstage. What do you think, I ran over them with my car in the parking lot?”

  He’d seen her drive. She could do it. “Anybody help you accomplish this feat?”

  “Nope. Did it all by myself.”

  “Don’t suppose you’d want to tell me the gory details?”

  She took a bag of cookies from the small pantry and set it on the table. “We were filing in and I accidentally stomped on the bass player’s foot with the stump of my cast. He shouted out this really rude word and pulled his foot out from under me. I guess it was understandable. By the time I left, the guy’s toe looked like an eggplant. Anyway, I lost my balance and grabbed for his arm, but I only snagged his sleeve. The sleeve ripped clean off his tux, and I went face-first into the string section… in front of a sellout audience.” She grimaced. “It was awful. A whole row of music stands went down like dominoes with sheet music flying all over the place. It took a half hour to straighten out the music and restore order.”

  Dave almost strangled on swallowed-back laughter. “Um, that doesn’t sound too bad.”

  “That’s not all.”

  “What else did you do?”

  “It took three people to get me up on my feet. And it was all very confusing, what with the doctor onstage looking at the bass player’s toe, and people milling around, bending over to pick up music. And I… I accidentally goosed the first clarinetist with my bow.” She chewed on her lower lip. “They tell me I got more laughs than Jay Leno.”

  “Hey, it could happen to anyone.”

  “You think so?” That was a hopeful thought. She’d hang on to that.

  “What happened after you goosed the clarinetist?”

  “The conductor escorted me off the stage and called a cab, personally! I don’t blame him. Actually, he’s very sweet, and he was worried about me.” She sat down carefully in the seat opposite him and folded her hands on the table. “So I have a vacation.” She tried a smile, but it wobbled on her face. “I’m not sure I know what to do with a vacation.”

  Dave covered her hands with his and gave them a squeeze. “You’ll figure it out. You’ll have time to do more practicing. And you can sit in the audience once in a while and get a different perspective.” He grinned. “You can go to bingo every night with Elsie.”

  The coffee was ready, but she didn’t want to move. Her hands felt good under his. This was exactly what she needed. Support, comfort, and warmth. David Dodd wasn’t stingy with his emotions. And he knew how to grin and tease her out of a funk. He might not be the perfect marriage prospect, but she doubted she’d ever find a better friend. She mustered up a reasonable amount of bravado. “Bingo with Elsie doesn’t sound half-bad. And you know what else? I’m going to hang a bird feeder on my dogwood tree!”

  “That’s pretty radical.”

  “What the hell, I may as well go all out on this vacation thing.”

  He wanted to propose a real vacation to her. A trip to the Bahamas or a week in the Florida Keys, but he knew she wasn’t ready for that— yet. So he poured out two cups of coffee, helped himself to a cookie, and tried not to smile too broadly. The image of Kate knocking over an entire row of music stands was enough to set him off howling, and the idea of her on forced vacation had his heart skipping beats.

  Katie Finn, he thought to himself, you don’t stand a chance.

  Chapter 9

  Elsie looked at Kate and shook her head. “Pitiful,” she said. “You’ve been on vacation for three days, and already you’re blimping out.”

  Kate dropped the stick from her Fudgsicle into the empty potato chip bag and sighed. “I’m not blimping out. Besides, how could you tell? All I ever wear are these sweats. You can’t tell if someone’s blimping out in sweats.”

  “You got a double chin.”

  “Water retention.”

  Elsie grunted. “Too much salt from all them chips you eat.”

  Kate pinched her chin between her thumb and forefinger and decided it didn’t feel fat. Elsie was exaggerating. So she ate a few chips. Big deal.

  “And them game shows you watch all day are gonna rot your mind. Don’t you have anything better to do than to watch game shows? Why don’t you play your cello? Look at it… it’s got dust on it.”

  “It doesn’t have dust on it. I practiced for two hours this morning.”

  “I heard that practice. You were playing ‘Row, Row, Row your Boat.’ ”

  Kate turned her attention to the window. “Elsie, you ever notice there aren’t any kids in this neighborhood?”

  “Yeah. Spooky, isn’t it? It’s a lot like being in the old people’s home, except this here’s midlife heaven.”

  “What do you suppose would happen if someone got pregnant on this street? Think everyone else would get up a petition to make her move away?”

  Elsie gathered empty glasses and soda cans and carted them off to the kitchen. “Nobody’s gonna get pregnant in this neighborhood. Nobody has time. Everybody’s too busy making money and eating bean sprouts.”

  “Dave isn’t too busy.”

  “Dave can’t get pregnant.”

  Kate continued to stare out the window. “No, but I could.”

  “The hell you could. You’re not married. Have you been careful?”

  “I haven’t had to be for the past week. I haven’t seen Dave.”

  “He took you out to dinner last night.”

  Kate searched her pockets for a candy bar, finally found it, and slowly peeled away the wrapper. “I know, but I haven’t seen him.”

  “Yeah, well you’re lucky he hasn’t seen you. You’re getting a roll.”

  “I can’t go to my exercise class with this cast on my leg.”

  “Hmmph. How come you two haven’t been seeing each other?”

  Kate watched a squirrel leap onto the bird feeder and eat all the seeds. “I decided it was best if we were just friends. He’s a great person, but we’re so incompatible. All he does is hang around the house all day.”

  “Looks to me like that’s all you do.”

  “Yes, but I’m on vacation.”

  Elsie buttoned herself into her blue coat and slipped her purse over her arm. “Maybe he’s on vacation, too.”

  “For six months?”

  “It’s allowed. He don’t look like such a slouch to me. I think he’s just getting his ducks in a row.”

  Kate wondered if that’s what she was doing—getting her ducks in a row. She didn’t think so. H
er ducks had been in a row. Something had happened to all those neat little ducks, and now she couldn’t even find them much less line them up.

  It seemed that every day was a little worse than the one before. Her mind had begun wandering, and she had thoughts of ridiculous things. What color curtains she’d like in her living room; the lasagna she’d attempted to make on Thursday that had turned out perfect; skiing. She’d never been skiing. Twenty-eight years old and never been skiing! That morning while she was practicing she’d looked down at the cast and fantasized that she’d broken her leg on the slopes. She’d spent an entire half hour on that daydream.

  “What do you suppose is the matter with me, Elsie? I’ve turned into a lump.”

  “I don’t know, but I gotta go to work. I’m pulling a double shift today because everybody’s sick with the flu. Then after work I got a date.”

  “A date?”

  “Yup. With a real hunk. And he’s no old coot either. Doesn’t look a day over sixty. Delivers sweet rolls to the café every morning.”

  “That’s kind of romantic.” She watched Elsie walk away, and she searched for other activity on the street but found none. The squirrel had eaten all the seeds and left for better pickings. It was Saturday afternoon, but it was too cold for yard work. People came and went, but no one dallied outdoors long enough to be interesting. She clicked the TV off, and the silence of her empty house pressed in on her.

  Maybe what she needed was a pet, she decided. A dog would be nice, except dogs had to be walked, and she wasn’t so hot at walking these days. And besides, she’d heard a rumor that dogs ate cellos. That left cats, birds, goldfish, hamsters, and guinea pigs. She rested her forehead on the cool windowpane. She was doing it again! She was thinking silliness. A pet! Lord, what would she do with a pet when her life resumed its normal rhythm?

  Dave appeared on the sidewalk and waved to her. She felt the smile start in her heart and work its way through her body. She hated to admit how dependent she’d become on him. He helped her navigate stairs, and he chauffeured her around town. And he made her happy. It was the happy part that had her worried. She wasn’t supposed to get this excited about someone who was just a friend. Boredom, she told herself. Isolation. It was all taking its toll. It was blowing her feelings about Dave out of proportion.