Back to the Bedroom

  He let himself in and joined her in the living room. “How’s it going?”

  “I’m thinking of getting a cat.”

  It was thirty seconds before he found his voice. “A cat?” His mouth creased into a broad grin. “What brought that on?”

  Kate was embarrassed. “I don’t know, it sort of jumped out at me. Dumb, huh?”

  “No. It’s a great idea.”

  “Well, I was just thinking about it.”

  “We don’t have any plans for tonight. Would you like to check out some kittens?”

  “Yes!”

  At nine-thirty Kate and Dave struggled through Kate’s front door under an enormous burden of boxes and bags and a cat carrier. Kate collapsed on her new couch and swung her leg up on the coffee table. “I’m never going shopping with you again. You’re a maniac! You’re a bad influence on me. Look at all the money I’ve spent!”

  “You didn’t spend any money. You charged everything.”

  “That’s even worse. How am I ever going to pay for all this? It’ll take me years.”

  “No, it won’t. You’re going to marry me, remember? I’m rich.”

  She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “That was a joke.”

  Dave took the tiny black kitten from its carrier and set it in her lap. “Not to me it wasn’t.”

  “Dave, we have nothing in common.”

  He sat beside her and stroked the kitten. “We love each other, don’t we?”

  It was true. She couldn’t deny it.

  “And we both like Uncle Scrooge comic books, and we both like freshly squeezed orange juice, and we fit together very nicely.” He put his arm around her and cuddled her close to him to prove his point. “See?”

  Kate tilted her face toward him for his kiss. “Mmmm. That’s all true.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “You’ve neglected to mention our differences.”

  He kissed her again. “Nothing insurmountable.”

  She set the kitten on the floor and stood up to get some distance from him.

  “You don’t know. You’ve never been married and divorced. Everything is insurmountable when you’re married. The fact that you want to talk at the breakfast table and he insists on reading his paper is insurmountable. Leaving the seat up on the toilet is insurmountable. Getting peanut butter in the jelly jar is insurmountable. People don’t change just because they’re married. All those little habits and personality quirks that you previously thought were trivial become the bane of your existence. And the major problems, like different outlooks on life, are crushing.”

  “No relationship is perfect. You have to weigh the odds and make a decision—”

  “Damn right. And our odds are terrible.”

  Dave felt anger boiling in him. He’d waited a long time to fall in love, and just his luck it had to be with an obstinate redhead. “You’re running scared from Anatole and not looking clearly at what we have going for us.”

  Elsie opened the front door with her key and stood at the entrance to the living room. An elderly man stood behind her. “Lord,” Elsie said, “you can hear the two of you shouting at each other clear out on the sidewalk. Haven’t you got anything better to do than to yell at each other?”

  Dave relaxed into the couch. “We might do that later. We thought we’d get the shouting out of the way first.”

  “Sounds like a good plan to me,” Elsie said. “This here’s Gus. He’s taking me out dancing, so I’ve gotta change my shoes.”

  Dave and Gus shook hands.

  “Nice place you have here,” Gus said.

  “It’s not mine.” Dave pointed to Kate. “It’s hers. I live next door.”

  Gus looked over at Kate. “Nice place you have here, ma’am.”

  “So you’re taking Elsie out dancing, huh?”

  “Yup.”

  Kate scrutinized him. “You won’t be late, will you?”

  “Um, I don’t know…”

  “Elsie works the early shift, you know,” Kate said, putting emphasis on the word early.

  “Yeah, no kissing on the first date and call us if you can’t make the eleven-thirty curfew.” Dave hooked his arm through Kate’s. “Can I see you in the kitchen, please?”

  “In a minute. I have a few more questions for Gus.”

  Dave caught her at the waist, slung her over his shoulder, and carried her away. “Now,” he said. “I think we should talk now.” He closed the kitchen door and set her on her feet.

  “Why did you do that?” she sputtered. “That was humiliating!”

  “Kate, you were grilling the poor man. You were about to ask him for credit references. I know that look in your eye. You were going to get his license plate number.”

  “The first date, and he’s taking her dancing! I know his type.”

  “Oh, yeah? What’s his type?”

  “He delivers sweet rolls!”

  Dave put his hand to her forehead. “You feeling okay?”

  “You think I overreacted?”

  “Just a tad.”

  “I do that a lot, don’t I?”

  Dave dragged her against him and held her tight. “Mmmm. You’re a hotheaded, hot-blooded wench.” He kissed her with exaggerated passion, and she smiled. “What are you smiling about? This is serious kissing.”

  He could always make her smile, she thought. He was playful—something she’d never known in a man before. The men in her life had always been on the somber side. She considered Dave and decided she liked this better. Much better. “We’re not supposed to be kissing. We’re supposed to just be friends.”

  “I never agreed to that.”

  Gus tapped on the kitchen door. “We’re going now. It’s been nice meeting you.”

  Kate stuck her head out. “Nice meeting you, Gus. Have fun tonight.”

  “There’s a young man came to see you,” Gus said. “I sat him down in the living room.”

  Kate opened the door wider and looked beyond Gus. “Ohmigod.”

  Dave peered over Kate’s shoulder. “Who is that?” he whispered. “He looks like he’s made of wax.”

  “It’s Anatole.”

  “Does he move?”

  Kate gave him an elbow. “Of course he moves. And he doesn’t look like he’s made of wax. He just has fair skin.”

  “I’ve seen people who were embalmed and looked healthier than that.”

  “You aren’t going to make a scene, are you?”

  “Wouldn’t think of it.”

  Anatole looked healthier at close range. With his fine skin and well-defined features he was Hollywood’s image of a Russian aristocrat. He had pale blue eyes, perfectly coiffed blond hair, and professionally buffed fingernails. His face was virtually expressionless.

  When Kate approached him, he stood as a formal posture of respect and uttered an indiscernible word of greeting. He completely ignored Dave.

  Dave grabbed Anatole’s hand and pumped it. “David Dodd. Nice to finally meet you, Anatole. Kate’s told me so much about you.”

  Anatole raised his eyebrows slightly. “Oh?” He looked at his hand, still in Dave’s, and a definite expression formed on his face. Annoyance. He squeezed Dave’s hand a trifle harder than custom called for and repeated Dave’s name in a voice laced with condescension. “David Dodd. What a quaint name.”

  Dave returned the squeeze and locked eyes. “Kate thinks so. She’s going to be using it soon. Katie Dodd. How does that sound?”

  “Sounds like a birdcall,” Anatole said, tightening his grip. The muscles of a body builder rippled under his suit jacket, and a red flush began to creep from his starched shirt collar.

  Cords stood out in Dave’s neck, but his arm didn’t waver. His eyes narrowed, and his biceps bulged within the confines of his blue flannel shirt.

  Anatole’s face had turned brick red. His lips compressed into a grim smile as he took a wider stance and put weight behind strength.

  Dave grunted and applied increased pres
sure. “So, you’re an ohhh-bow-ist, huh?” The words crept from between his teeth.

  A vein throbbed in Anatole’s forehead. “I’m the best.”

  “The hell you are.” Dave accidentally on purpose stepped on Anatole’s soft-as-butter Italian loafers.

  “Stop it!” Kate shouted. “This is the most disgusting display of macho crud I’ve ever seen.”

  Anatole dropped Dave’s hand and stared openmouthed at his scuffed shoe. “He stepped on my foot!”

  “It was an accident,” Dave said.

  “That was no accident. You deliberately stepped on my foot!”

  Kate pushed Dave aside and faced Anatole. “Did you want to see me about something special? Or is this just a social call?”

  Anatole plucked a huge basket of fruit from the floor. It was wrapped in orange cellophane and had a big lavender bow attached to the handle.

  “I was delegated to deliver the traditional basket of get-well fruit. And I’m supposed to tell you Ralph is almost able to get a shoe on his foot, and everyone misses you.” He gave Kate an antiseptic kiss on the cheek. “Poor Kate. How have you been?”

  Dave took a deep breath and willed himself to concentrate on the fruit basket. The thought of Kate married to this pompous, egocentric excuse for a man had his stomach in a knot. Count oranges, he told himself, calm down. There were four oranges in the basket.

  Anatole squinted at a flash of movement in the dining room. “I don’t want you to panic, Kate, but there’s something running around in your dining room. Something small and black.”

  “That’s my kitten.”

  Anatole’s reaction would have been exactly the same if she’d said that’s my pet rat. “You also have a boarder?”

  “Yup. Elsie. She’s terrific.”

  Anatole looked at Kate’s stomach. “Pregnant, too, I see.” He lowered his voice. “I know you’ve always wanted children, but don’t you think you could have been more discerning about a father? In fact, marriage isn’t even necessary these days. There are a lot of single-parent families.”

  Kate clapped her hands to her stomach. “I’m not pregnant! This is water retention.” She stared down at herself and sighed. “To be honest, this is Ben and Jerry’s Brownie Bars.” She glanced at Dave and saw the flicker of surprise pass behind his eyes.

  “I didn’t know that you always wanted children,” Dave said, looking incredibly pleased by his discovery.

  “It was a phase,” Kate said. “A very brief phase. I had this ridiculous notion that I could handle a concert career and motherhood all at the same time. But as you can see, I can barely find my own socks in the morning. There are some women who simply weren’t meant to be mothers.”

  “That’s okay by me,” Dave said. “You can be the father. I’ll be the mother.”

  “He’s a little weird,” Anatole said to Kate. “He isn’t dangerous, is he?”

  Kate smiled. “He has his moments.”

  She’d barely gotten the words out of her mouth when the house was rocked by a series of explosions. Glass rattled and the street was lit by the orange glow of fire. Dave looked past Kate, through the long, curtainless windows. “It’s the drug house across the street!”

  Flames shot from every window of the house. Smoke billowed from the roof and began to cast a pall over the neighborhood. People poured into the street from surrounding houses, and sirens screamed in the distance. There was no sign of life in the burning building, but the very thought of it sent a chill through Kate.

  She hobbled down her front stairs and stood squinting at the spectacle, mesmerized by the power of the fire. It was impossible not to stare at it. It was compelling and horrible and awesome. She could feel the heat against her face and hear the hiss of destruction.

  Suddenly a man bolted from the shadows of Dave’s shrubbery and crashed square into Kate. They sprawled flat on the sidewalk in a tangle of flailing arms and thrashing legs. The man pushed away from her, muttered an oath, and scrambled to his feet. A police car arrived on the scene, and behind the police car a fire truck rumbled to a stop. The man stood frozen, as if suspended in time by the headlights shining directly on him.

  He wasn’t one of her neighbors, but she’d seen him before, Kate decided. In her kitchen! It was the man with the knife. The man Elsie’d almost blown to smithereens. His panic was palpable, like an animal trapped in the hypnotic glare of a hunter’s spotlight.

  He looked to the far end of the street and was confronted by more police cars and fire trucks. There were no alleys in between. Each house was attached to the next. He pulled a gun from his jacket and pressed the snub-nosed barrel against Kate’s temple.

  “Get up,” he said, wrapping his hand around her upper arm. “Move!”

  Kate recoiled at his touch, revolted by the odor of sweat and gun oil. She felt her stomach roll and stared at him stupidly. The gun pressed more insistently into her flesh. She struggled to stand but had little luck with the awkward cast.

  “Wonderful,” he muttered, “I have to pick a cripple to take hostage.” He gave a grunt and jerked her to her feet, holding her close. “No one come near me.”

  “This isn’t a good idea,” Kate told him. “I’m not so great at walking.”

  “We don’t need to walk. We’re gonna get a car. We’re gonna use this one that’s double-parked with the keys in it.”

  Anatole’s mouth fell open. “That’s my car!” he whispered to Dave. “Do something!”

  Dave narrowed his eyes. “If I do anything, it’ll be to rearrange your face.”

  “Get in the car,” the man told Kate.

  “My cast won’t fit.”

  “Make it fit! Jeez, lady, give me a break. Hang your leg out the window if you hafta.” He pushed the seat back as far as possible and shoved her in.

  Kate looked over her shoulder. “We’re surrounded by police cars.”

  He fired a shot through the sunroof and leaned on his horn. “You ever have a day when nothing goes right?” he asked Kate. “You ever blow up a building by mistake? All I wanted to do was get some of my equipment back and make a little dope.”

  “I thought you were arrested when the police raided the house? They caught you in my kitchen.”

  “I made bail. Man, the trial won’t be for months. How do they expect me to make a living until then. I gotta pay lawyers. I gotta buy jurors and judges. They locked all my equipment up. They deprived me of my right to work at my chosen profession.”

  The police cars pulled back, and he gunned the motor.

  Kate braced her hand on the dashboard. “Where are we going?”

  “Cripes, lady, how the hell do I know? I thought we’d just ride around until we run out of gas.” He maneuvered around a police car and took off down the street.

  A 1957 Cadillac flew around the corner and fishtailed down the middle of the road, heading straight for Anatole’s car. Both drivers slammed on their brakes and swerved, narrowly avoiding a head-on collision. Kate looked at the driver of the Cadillac and clapped her hand over her mouth. Elsie!

  In his haste to avoid Elsie, the gunman had jumped the curb and sideswiped a wrought-iron fence. He took a deep breath and jammed the car into reverse. Kate looked out the rear window and saw Dave wrench the Cadillac’s door open and dive in. The Cadillac spun around and peeled out with a screech of tires. Dave and Elsie were coming after them! And behind the Cadillac was a line of police cars.

  In the dim recesses of her brain Kate realized if she hadn’t been so terrified she would have found it funny. As it was she could barely hold in her hysteria, but her years of performing, enabled her to function now. She used every shred of self-discipline to keep her voice steady when she spoke. “I think we’re being followed.”

  “No joke! Tell me it wasn’t a little old lady driving that Cadillac.”

  “You remember Elsie?”

  “Remember her? She would have splattered my brains all over your linoleum. That woman’s nuts. She’s seen The Terminator too many t
imes.” He looked in his mirror. “I’d give myself up to the cops, but I don’t know how to do it without Grandma Moses getting to me first.”

  “Traffic light!” Kate shouted. “Everyone’s stopped for the red light!”

  The man stomped on the brakes and pointed his gun at Kate’s head. “You see this, Elsie?” he shouted. “You come near me, and I’ll blow the cripple away.”

  He checked the mirror again and a look of disbelief registered in his eyes. “What is she doing? What the hell is that crazy woman doing?”

  He looked around frantically for someplace to move the car. None. There were cars on every side of him. The Cadillac was closing in fast on his rear—and it wasn’t slowing.

  The impact jerked him forward and knocked the gun from his hand. Anatole’s car bounced forward, crumpling into the car in front of it, setting off the front air bags.

  Kate fought the air bag back, heard multiple crashes occurring behind her and saw the reflection of red-and-blue lights flashing everywhere. Before she could gather her wits, Dave’s arms were around her, unbuckling the seat belt, lifting her from the car, holding her close against his chest. She could feel her heart pounding, then realized it wasn’t her heart that was pounding, it was Dave’s heart she felt.

  Uniformed police officers had the gunman in custody. Howie ran forward from one of the cars in the rear and went to the man, making sure his rights were read to him.

  “I’m okay,” Kate said. “You can put me down.”

  Dave’s voice was thick. “I don’t think I can. I don’t think my arms will let go!”

  They both laughed nervously when he set her on her feet, and she grabbed his sleeve for support. “I couldn’t believe it when it turned out to be Elsie in the Cadillac.”

  Dave kept his arm tight around her waist. “Gus has a police scanner in that boat. They heard the call go out for police and fire and lit out for home. Apparently Gus wasn’t driving fast enough to suit Elsie, so she took over behind the wheel.” He shook his head. “I think this was the first time she’s ever driven a car. She crashed into you because her heel got caught in Gus’s floor mat.”