Next To You (30 page)

‘Ha!’ Arch said. ‘He told me I sounded like Mrs. Howell.’

‘Nah, I said Thurston Howell because when you’re mad you call Dennis
Lovey
.’

‘
A free hour tooor, a free hour tooor
!’ Arch sang, his mouth sloppy.

Caroline burst into a giggling fit.

Will rested his head against the seat and looked at her. ‘Well, there it is again. Wilma had nothing. Maybe she had that tiny waist, and big bone in her hair—no, no, that was Pebbles—anyway, just like Ginger had nothing on Mary Ann, you know it was all Betty’s game. That Barney Rubble was lucky. Betty had that blue dress, the bow in her hair, and that amazing laugh. Jesus, Mary and Joseph you’re a pretty little thing.’

She stopped giggling. Her eyes met his, their gazes locked, and then a long, rumbling laugh came out of her nose.

Will put his arm around her and ruffled her hair.

Once home, they left Arch and Dennis downstairs. Will carried a bag full of Caroline’s birthday presents up the next few flights. She took off her red Doris Day coat and draped it over her arm as she climbed the stairs.

‘You know I didn’t mean you looked like Betty Rubble,’ he said, two steps behind.

‘I just laugh like her.’

‘Exactly, but in that dress you look like Audrey Hepburn in
Breakfast at Tiffany’s.
’

‘What do you mean? I remind you of the call-girl Holly Golightly or I make you think of Audrey Hepburn in general?’

‘I mean your
dress
is like one she wore in the movie. It has the same neckline and no sleeves.’

‘Her dress was black, mine is red.’

‘You’re not going to give me an inch, are you?’

‘No. I know I’m not that swan-like graceful, and I never wanted to look like Audrey Hepburn.’

‘Who did you want to look like, Barbara Stanwyck or Rita Hayworth?’

‘Nope. I wanted to look like Tracy Lord, Francie Stevens, Lisa Freemont, Margo Wendice …’

‘Tracy Lord … Tracy Lord … I know that name.’

She said, ‘You know Lisa Freemont’s boyfriend had a broken leg and a telephoto camera lens.’

‘I don’t know a Lisa Freemont, but I
know
I know the name
Tracy Lord
.’

As they started up the last flight, she said, ‘Tony Wendice hired a man to strangle his wife, Margo. She killed the guy with a pair of scissors. I wonder how hard
that
was to do.’

‘What?’

Caroline paused at the top step and turned to look at him on the tread below. ‘Now, this is something unusual,’ she giggled. ‘A face-to-face moment where we’re both standing on two feet. It’s nice to look at something other than a button on your chest. Tell me, can you see me this close or is my nose missing from the picture? What kind of visual clues do you navigate by now with those jumbo iolites of yours?’

‘Your eyebrows are a different color to your mouth, so your nose must be somewhere in between the light brown and the red lipstick.’

Caroline leaned slightly forward. ‘Would you like a leg or a breast?’

‘Would I like … what was that?’

‘That’s what Francie Stevens says to John Robie, the Cat in
To Catch a Thief
.

‘Ah,’ he nodded. ‘Grace Kelly. All those names are roles she played in
High Society
,
To Catch a Thief
,
Rear Window
and
Dial M for Murder
. You wanted to look like Grace Kelly.’

‘Ding-ding-ding!’ Drunk, giggling madly, and utterly lost to the idea, Caroline didn’t think. She simply was Grace Kelly in
To Catch a Thief
. She slid an arm around the neck of the big, pearl-haired Cary Grant on the step below hers, and kissed him like she was re-enacting a love scene from that movie. Unhurried, she kissed him like she had wanted to since he got back from India, but he exhaled a laugh against her mouth, and she halted in mid-cinematic smooch, opening her eyes. Her hand slipped down his chest as she stepped back.

He looked down at her fingers pressing against the pale blue of his shirt and patterned silk tie.

She took her hand away and said, ‘Well, that was stupid.’

‘I can think of a number of adjectives to describe that, and
stupid
isn’t one to come to mind.’ Will put the bag of presents on the landing beside her feet.

‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m … I’m completely plastered.’

‘It’s no big deal. You’re just fooling around.’

‘Yes, but we’ve discussed this before, so what am I doing fooling around with you?’

‘Well, you’ve got to fool around with someone foolish.’

‘That’s the gin talking.’

‘That’s funny. I thought it sounded William Murphy.’ It was all over for Will now. In the craggiest, dimly lit niche of his mind he’d been hoping she would indicate interest, and there was no way he was going to look at her through the same eyes, in quite the same way ever again. Keeping the borderline of friendship in place was impossible now. The internal argument had ceased and, age difference be damned, married or not, he would quietly make himself available to her in any way she wanted, as he had for his ex-wife for so many years.

Once upon a time he’d liked uncomplicated and comfortable.

Not anymore.

Screw that they were neighbors. The frustration, the impediments, her hesitancy, his thuggish compulsion to intimidate another man, Will wanted it all. Being accommodating was something he’d grown accustomed to, and he was strangely at ease with the fact he could do it again. Whether that made him a sucker or a numbskull, he didn’t care.

His fingers traced the contour along the exposed part of her shoulder and lingered behind her neck. His thumb outlined her earlobe. He wanted to do more, but settled for this because he could be patient.

He could be very patient.

‘I know we’re both a little drunk,’ he said, ‘but I understand how it is for you. I know it’s hard, I know how you’ve been hurt, but don’t condemn yourself for having a little fun at my expense. Am I complaining? Do you hear me complaining?’

‘You never complain.’

‘You think it still sounds like gin talking?’

‘I don’t know. It could be Chianti.’

‘I didn’t have any Chianti, and if I did don’t you think there would be more of a wine to my voice.’

‘You think you’re pretty funny, don’t you?’

‘Don’t you?’ he said.

‘You’re a regular amusement park.’

‘So what ride would that make me?’

‘Anything but a rollercoaster.’

‘Don’t you like rollercoasters?’

‘My life’s been enough of one, thank you very much.’

‘Then pick a ride you like.’

‘The carousel,’ she said.

‘Oh, that’s great. I’m going around in circles all the time.’

Her hand moved back to his chest. ‘I see it this way; you know where you’re going, where you’ve been, and you always come back to the same place.’

Will tipped his head so he could see her better. His thumb moved from her ear to touch her bottom lip, and he half-whispered, ‘So here I am again. Should we wait and see if I come around a third time, just to be sure?’

A metallic click-clack jerked his attention to the right. He dropped his hand as the door to his apartment opened.
Son of a bitch …
‘I see you found your keys, Vonnie.’

‘I thought I heard somebody out here,’ Yvonne said. ‘Yeah, yeah, the keys were in my car. I hope you had a nice birthday, Caroline.’

‘I did, thank you.’

‘Well, goodnight then.’

‘Yes,’ Caroline nodded. ‘Goodnight.’

Yvonne held the door wide. ‘You coming in, Willie?’

‘In a minute.’ Will picked up the bag of Caroline’s birthday presents.

Vonnie went back into the apartment.

Caroline unlocked her door. Batman ran out and flopped over in front of Will. He bent to rub the dog’s belly, and Caroline took the bag. The dog darted inside, Will rose, and moved forward across the threshold to pick up where he’d left off.

‘Goodnight, William,’ she said, her eyebrows drawn together.

Will leaned in to kiss her. She turned her head so his lips touched the corner of her mouth.

Frowning, she stepped back and closed the door, not quite, but almost in his face.

Forty minutes later, he sat in front of the TV watching the end of
Hogan’s Heroes
, bundled up in his bathrobe, a mohair blanket over his lap, trying to work out what went wrong.

When Yvonne stumbled into the living room squinting, he wondered how the hell he’d been so blind.

‘Willie, are you ever coming to bed?’ she said. ‘It’s after two.’

‘When this is over.’

Yvonne slid beside him on the sofa and pulled the blanket over her legs as well. She snuggled up against him, a hand on his chest. ‘What are you doing out here?’

‘Watching Sergeant Shultz and thinking.’

‘About what?’

‘Caroline and you.’

She lifted her head. ‘Caroline and me?’

‘M-hm. Why don’t you like her?’

Yvonne sat up, hand slipping from his chest. ‘I do like her.’

‘Something about her bothers you.’

She shook her head. ‘She doesn’t bother me.’

Will rose and turned off the TV. ‘Come off it, Vonnie. I see you watching her, I catch the slightly disapproving looks, I hear the remarks you make, the ones that sound like compliments, but aren’t. She bothers you for some reason.’

‘Look, she’s very sweet, kind-hearted, but I guess I hate how she’s so quiet.’

His hands were cold. He stuffed them into the robe’s pockets. ‘That’s a pretty dumb reason to dislike someone.’

Yvonne got off the couch and stood in front of him. ‘All right. I hate the shrinking violet thing. That whole shy girl shtick sets feminism back to the Stone Age. I saw her this afternoon, at the store where she works. I went there to get her a twin-set for a birthday gift. This skinny blonde cow was screaming at her, screaming abuse, and Caroline just stood there. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t stand up for herself. She just stood there, all meek, Willie, and then she cried at her own birthday party. Who cries when people sing “Happy Birthday?”’

‘Being introverted sets feminism back to the Stone Age? Really?’

She looked at him a long moment and then crossed her arms. ‘Is there something going on between you two?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘But you’d like there to be.’

‘She’s married, Vonnie.’

She sniffed. ‘So what. You like her, don’t you?’

‘Yes,’ Will sat on the arm of the sofa. ‘I find her terribly likable, and she’s quiet because her son died, and she’s married to a malicious bully who’s knocked her around. I imagine that’s pretty draining, and a good reason to be guarded with people you don’t really know yet, don’t you?’

Yvonne smiled wryly. ‘And it’s why you’re out here thinking,
hmm, should I or shouldn’t I
? You’re always so morally upright, aren’t you? It’s a good thing you’re not the type of man to have an affair with a married woman. It wouldn’t suit you to do such an untidy, convoluted thing.’

‘I had an affair with you, didn’t I?’

‘You mean after I threw Keith out for banging his secretary?’ Yvonne sniffed again. ‘That doesn’t count.’

‘That doesn’t count?’

‘No. By the time I came to see you the marriage was well and truly over, the divorce papers had been filed for a month, and they were signed by the end of that week.’

Will rubbed a spot where stubble itched beneath his chin. ‘I wonder about that sometimes. Would it have been just as easy for you to walk out if I had an affair with my secretary?’

‘You having an affair with Bea? Uh, sorry it’s a little hard to see that one.’

‘Just supposing.’

She gave him a little push and he tumbled back onto the couch. Then she looked down at him. ‘Willie, you’re my best friend. You’re loyal, honest, and generous with your time. I like that I’ve always been able to count on you. You’re as dependable and solid as your body.’ She moved to lie on his chest, nuzzling her face to his as she tugged at the sash of his bathrobe, pushing it aside to slip her hands beneath.

What had been comfortable and familiar for so many years was now out of place. Her Chanel No. 5 smelled stale. Her sweet breath was overripe. The weight of her curvaceous body was as sexy as a plastic bag of potting mix sitting on his chest. ‘Vonnie, I don’t want to.’

‘Yes you do. You always want to, even when you say you don’t.’

‘I really don’t want to.’

‘Little Willie’s arguing the contrary.’

And there it was, the perpetual dick joke his ex-wife always insisted on making every time they had sex. He got a stupid dick reference every time she said his name, and for the first time in thirty-some years Will didn’t tolerate it. ‘Yvonne. Honey. Please stop.’

‘Why?’ she said, her hands sliding southward through the trail of white hair that started at his navel.

‘Because I want you to.’

She pulled her hands away. ‘What’s wrong, Willie?’

Will rubbed his forehead. ‘I’ve had enough. I’m tired.’

‘If you’re that exhausted, maybe you need to take a vacation. We could go somewhere together again, but not a cruise. I never want to take another cruise.’

He groaned. ‘No Vonnie. I mean I’m tired of this. I don’t want to do this anymore.’ He gestured, moving a hand back and forth, touching her sternum and his own. ‘I know I’m your fallback position. I’ve
always
been your safety net when anything’s gone wrong. I put myself there. When you left Colin, when you threw Keith out, I’ve been there for you to lean on in every way imaginable, and I’ll always be here for you, I’ll always care for you, but I don’t want to do this anymore. I can’t. I’ve had enough, so why don’t we finally, really call it a day.’

Yvonne rolled off him and stood beside the sofa, frowning, chewing the inside of her cheek. ‘You
are
sleeping with Caroline. Quincy said you’ve been acting kind of off lately. Are you having a midlife crisis, is that what this is all about?’ She fluffed her hair and laughed. ‘Why don’t you go and buy another motorcycle to satisfy yourself, because she’s at least fifteen years younger than you, you know?’

‘Ten years, and I’m not sleeping with her.’ Will sat up.

‘Oh,
please
, Willie!’ She held up a hand. ‘You don’t have to lie to make me feel better. I saw this coming. I knew you were interested in her the day she came madly blushing into the middle of your living room. You sent her flowers. I watched you at the country club. You couldn’t keep your eyes off her, and I know I interrupted
something
when I opened the door. You two were out there looking a little more than neighborly.’