The Case of the Lady in Apartment 308 (5 page)

He grinned and asked, “What?”

“General education. No particular skills,” she lied.

“You do paint.”

“My dad was a painter. I helped him.”

“Most dads are tolerant of kids wanting to help.” Ed was kind. “Did he teach you to be that careful?”

“He’d give me a whole wall. It was always in a closet or a back hail.”

Soberly, Ed nodded and replied, “My dad did that, too.”

“He also taught me to take apart the plumbing and clean it out. It took time.”

Ed laughed. “My dad did that!”

Soberly, she communicated, “Being a father is a challenge. He does more interesting things than sweeping or dusting or washing dishes.”

“I’d never thought of it that way.”

She expanded the premise. “Men selected what domestic chores they’d do and allowed women to do the rest of it.”

His humor brimming his eyes, Ed considered the rebel. “You couldn’t change sex.”

“I did try. Mother told me to kiss my elbow and I’d change.” She added thoughtfully, “It’s a wonder I didn’t break my arm.”

Ed considered her. “So you don’t like being a woman?”

She turned her head slightly and gave him an amused glance along with that fascinating shrug and replied, “I grew into the role.”

Without his permission, his flicking eyes were witnessing the result. “Yeah.”

“Being female isn’t easy.” She shared that knowledge.

And he sighed. “Being male is worse.”

She scoffed. “You guys have it so easy. Nobody harasses you, nobody crowds you. Nobody brushes against you. Nobody discards any advice or suggestions you give.”

“You don’t know the real world. Men have to run in packs. A lone male is chopped up. No matter what the circumstances, a guy needs backup. The worst
possible scenario for a guy is…marriage. No. No. Listen. There, he’s all alone, no male backup and has to handle
every
thing all by himself.”

She burst out laughing.

He laid his fork down and put his elbow on the table as he waited for her hilarity to abate. Then he said, “Why, Marcia, whatever are you thinking about to laugh in that manner? Are you thinking about— gasp—
sex?
”

She bit her lip and watched him, her eyes spilling her laughter.

Earnestly, gently, he instructed the untried one, “A man has to
train
a woman in marriage.” He elaborated, “What days he sleeps late, what sort of weather is fishing weather, who buys the beer for any gathering and what kind. Hush that. Who sleeps on which side of the bed. Who brings in the coffee and paper. A woman never realizes those are her chores.”

She tilted her head a little as she looked at him. “You’ve never been married.”

“How’d you know that?”

“I believe Amy told me.”

“Almost all of my friends are married, and the guys spread the word. It sounds like such a strain, I’ve never been tempted to take the leap into the fiery pits of…the volcano.”

“You don’t like the idea of being nailed down.”

“Men do that. Women submit.”

“Uh-oh.”

His face was so innocent and earnest, “They don’t?”

“No.”

“Well, I’ll be darned! The guys I hear, tell it different.
They
say all those things. I’ve just not yet had the impulse to tackle a woman and train her.”

“Train…her?”

“From what I hear, women come into a marriage thinking they’re in control. It takes guys a tough lot of time just getting them settled. They don’t even have time for friends right at first. The training takes so long and is so hard.”

She scoffed.

“How many married couples have you seen out and about after they’re married? They go on trips by themselves and they come home and lock the doors. A man has it hard.” He shook his head and sighed. “You ought to just hear the tales they tell.”

“What about kids?”

“What about them?”

“Does the dad take a hand in training them?”

“After the potty training and the food being poked into them and the bottles, then the dad gives them lessons in hamburgers and beer. They—”

“Beer!”

He was open and serious, “It’s soothing to the screaming and yelling toddlers.”

“Good heavens!”

He laughed so that he had to sit back and give the laugh room.

She watched him for a while. Then she accused, “You are a tease.”

“I do try.” He went back to the slivers of catfish he’d busily separated on his plate to make the meal last longer.

She considered him. “So you’re not in the market for a wife.”

“I’m not sure anymore. The guys I know who are married with little kids around, and some with high school kids, appear to be very contented.

“They include me in their activities, and they seem to be quite settled. It’s scary. The guys I could always count on are talking kids’ activities. They coach teams and drive kids and participate. I never thought it would come to this. What happened to all those good friends who were available anytime for anything?”

She replied readily enough, “They grew up.”

“Are you married?”

“No.”

He pushed. “Been married? Engaged?”

“Nope.”

He tilted back his head. “Had any affairs?”

“None. I’ve been too busy.”

He slid it in. “Painting?”

“I’ve done several things. Painting is another talent. I find it satisfying.”

“I think you’re wasting your brain.”

“Since this is the first real exchange of conversation we’ve had, how can you judge me?”

He told her levelly, “I’ve watched you paint. Whose overalls are those?”

She smiled. “They’re a keepsake of my dad’s. The cap was his, too. I can tell you the history of each color.”

And he wondered at her words.

He suggested, “I have some coveralls in the basement. Let’s get the painting done tonight. It can air out—”

“Not tonight.”

He took in a quick, surprised tiny gasp. “Why not?”

His reply had been different than she’d expected. She told him, “There’s a friend sleeping in that apartment. He’s just started working and needed a place tonight. I aired it all day. He’ll be okay.”

“You didn’t tell me we had another occupant.”

“The apartment wasn’t occupied.” She raised honest eyes to his. “I didn’t think it would matter. It’ll only be for a couple of days.”

“You told me you had to paint tonight.”

“I…I was giving you an out so that you could leave early.”

“What made you think I would want to leave?”

“What makes you think I want you around?”

He could have indicated the table and her having fed him, but he simply looked at her. “Are you an honest woman?”

“Yes. But why would you believe me? You’ve already told me you don’t much care for commitment.”

“When’d I say that?”

“In telling me about your friends.”

“Oh, well, sure, you see, yeah.”

E
d asked the woman whose name was Marcia, “Have you been married?”

“I’ve told you I haven’t been married.” Marcia glanced over at him and inquired, “If you didn’t believe that, why would you assume that I’m not married now?”

“I don’t think any man would allow a wife to paint alone, or live alone. He’d be helping you with the Elinor-accrued debt here, and he’d be helping you paint.”

“What makes you decide that?”

“If you belonged to a husband or a bunch of painters, he, or they, would be here helping you out so that you could get back to the business.”

“I’m independent.”

He asked the ceiling first, “Who’d have the patience to wait for you to paint a house?” He looked at her sternly as he accused her. “You use that toothpick brush and you’re too careful.”

She retorted sassily, “I’m naturally neat and tidy. And I work by the job, not the hour.”

“Those overalls are silent witness to how neat and tidy you are.”

She laughed. She really did. She looked at him and her eyes twinkled with her humor. She told Ed, “I’ve been trying to discourage you so that you wouldn’t be interested and distract me.”

“Distract you…from
painting!”
He was totally unbelieving.

“Well, uh, yeah.”

There was a knock on her door.

Marcia got up, and so did Ed. She went over and opened the door. “Yes?”

“I hear some guy in here with you?”

She opened the door a little more and gestured. “He’s the rent collector.”

Ed saw the big guy’s glance go over him, dismiss him and then go on to stop on the table. Two places set. Obviously Ed was company invited there to eat.

The looming intruder said, “Okay.” And he left.

Ed blinked. “Is he part of your painting crew?”

“On occasion, we work together.”

“Painting?”

“He takes care of the bigger problems.” She smiled at Ed.

“He could. What’s his reach?”

“I don’t know. He does get things done.”

“He looks like an albino gorilla.” Ed nodded over the ID. Then Ed grudgingly added, “His features are a bit better.” Ed’s eyes narrowed. “He looks like a crook. Have you done a background check on him?”

“You’d hurt his feelings if you said something like that to him. He’s very kind and gentle.”

“Doing…what?” Ed leaned his head closer to her and his face was stony.

She gestured in a gentle openness as she explained, “His work.”

“He doesn’t look like a painter.”

She raised her eyebrows. “What’s a painter look like? You? He doesn’t look at all like you.” Then she was soothing. “He’s another careful worker.” To change the subject, she asked Ed, “Have you ever been on one of the riverboats? The ones with gambling?”

“Sure.”

“I never have. Did you go on a moored boat or one that went out on the river?”

“Both. They’re just like anything else. But on the river, the view’s better. And the food’s good. Would you like to go?”

She smiled a little as if it was an unexpected invitation—or as if he’d taken the hook? She said, “Yeah. That would be fun.”

“Let’s go now.”

“I’ll…check my calendar. Let me call you…in about an hour?”

So she had dismissed him. She hadn’t suggested he stay there while she changed. There were two rooms. She could have done that. So he pushed it. “You’re dressed just right.”

She smiled at Ed. “Thank you. I’ll see.”

“We haven’t had dessert.” He said that as he looked at her. Why would she want him out of her place…for an hour?

She said, “We can have dessert on board the boat.”

That was logical, but hadn’t she prepared any dessert? Hmmmm. And his mind went searching. It landed on the big lump who had checked on her.

However, Ed replied slowly, “Okay. Call me. Do you have my number?”

Her eyes twinkled, so amused, and she replied, “Yes.”

She did have his phone number—and his parents’ number. That was nigglingly interesting.

As Ed was putting his arms into his jacket, he noticed that her binoculars weren’t in sight in her temporary apartment. She had either put them away or kept them in the other apartment so that she could take breaks and look around.

Her curiosity was interesting. Ed had never before seen any painter who cared about anything but getting the job done and going on to another.

And she was slow.

Quick to get phone numbers, but a slow painter.

As directed, Ed left the apartment and drove back to his place at the compound. He was somewhat disgruntled because he didn’t understand her wanting the break in their time together. Why had he had to leave her?

And again he considered that while her apartment was being painted, by her, her interim place was a two-room
apartment. If she’d wanted to change clothes, she could have closed the bedroom door. He wouldn’t have been offended by that.

She just didn’t add up.

Maybe she was married to that lump of a lug. However, he didn’t appear to be the tolerant type. Was she dating the guy? And she needed permission to take off for a night out with another man? Hardly. She wouldn’t be involved with a guy like that lump.

But the guy had really looked Ed over. He’d been so hostile that Ed was surprised the guy hadn’t sat down on the sofa and read the paper until Ed left.

There’d been daddies who’d done that when Ed was young and dating younger girls who were not yet women.

Daddies had it rough.

How strange for Ed to think of that at this time. Marcia was old enough to date without having a chaperone. From the looks of her, she wasn’t a newly born chick. She’d been around a block or two.

Marcia had the look of a woman who had seen life and survived it very well. She had moxie. She knew what was what. Who was who. And she was familiar with the ropes that set off conduct.

How interesting that she had so carefully shunned Ed…almost. She’d had lunch with him twice and barely said a word either of those times. She’d talked before then when they’d first met. But during those two lunches, she’d hardly said anything.

This time, at her own place, she’d been quite chatty. And it had been
she
who had brought up the gambling boats!

She’d probably borrow money in order to play the slots “one more time.” Yeah, she’d be like that.

Gamblers probably had a welcome mat they put out just for her. They’d hired her to bring in new blood— him—for their gambling.

She was a touter. They probably gave her extra chances. Not money. She’d spend that anyway.

Ed considered his cynicism. Well, he’d also been around the block a time or two. After all, he was thirty-seven. In a couple of years he’d be edging into— forty! By that age, a man had been around and seen and experienced just about everything.

And he knew women.

Yes, he did.

Ed paced his floor and waited for her call. Why would he be that impatient? He ought to sit down and read the paper and be as aloof as she deserved.

His phone rang and instead of letting it ring at least twice, he grabbed it right away. A really stupid thing to do with a new woman. He said a casual, “Hello.” What a stupid thing to say. Why hadn’t he said, “I’m here.” Or “It took you long enough.”

A male voice said, “Ed? This is Charlie. You busy?”

God, Charlie was the world’s worst chatterer. Why had he called then?

So Ed replied quickly, “I’m waiting for a call from California. Let me get back to you.”

And Charlie said, “Well…”

But Ed hung up.

And the phone rang!

Cautiously Ed said, “Yeah?”

She
said, “Come by in twenty minutes?”

Ed replied, “Yeah.”

She hung up.

He was slower.

Being ready, Ed needed to delay about fifteen minutes, so he called Charlie. Ed began, “I got just under fifteen minutes. Give me an outline.”

“How’d you know?”

“What! How’d I know what?” Ed frowned at the wall.

“My job’s been eliminated in the downsizing of the company.”

“Uh-oh.”

“We’ve got four kids!”

“Didn’t you ever expect this to happen?”

Charlie reminded Ed, “My father-in-law was the senior executive vice president.”

Carefully, Ed echoed, “Was?”

“Yeah.”

“Why don’t you two come to our meeting on Wednesday. It’s a great support group and—”

“Jim is zonked. He can’t face it.”

“I’ll give you a list of the members tomorrow. He’ll be right at home. It’ll be a shock to see the numbers and caliber of those present. Have heart.”

“Ed—”

“I have a new date in five minutes. I’ll get back to you tomorrow. Chins up. This is solvable. You’ll be astounded. Hang in there.” And Ed hung up.

If he hadn’t hung up, it would have been a crying jag next. While that isn’t wrong for a man to be shocked in such a matter, it was wrong for Ed to be involved in it right at that minute.

He had given the first glimmer of light in the end of the dark tunnel for Charlie—and probably his father-in-law. Tomorrow, Ed would listen as long as it took Charlie to get the pus out of the aching wound of surprise at being fired.

The word had once been terminated. That had sounded so final. Like a death knell.

Released was another substitute word for fired. The mental image was pigeons being freed from a sack on a rooftop.

Being fired was now called downsizing. That meant the firm was in trouble financially. The CEOs were paid too much in unbelievably staggering amounts. That took money from the budget, which limited or shrunk the lower echelon.

Charlie was Ed’s age, give or take a couple of years. He was a good, easy golfer and a cheerful father. His father-in-law was a competent man and had been
hanging on carefully by his fingernails. At his age, he was mistaken for deadwood.

The company would hire some cheap, wet-eared kids, and those novices would proceed to brilliantly foul things up. Then the older men would be brought back on piecework to try to sort out and glue the whole mess together while the kids learned what to do.

It was all as inevitable as rain. Sometimes it took longer but it would rain.

Then Ed remembered reading in
Time
magazine of the archaeologists who had dug into the soil of the Middle East. They discovered that once there had been a three-
hundred
-year drought.

A stunning thing. There were no seeds in those soil layers of time. The land had been stark and barren.

So as Ed went out to his car to go pick up Marcia, his thoughts of the offer in California loomed in his mind.

At least Ed had an income. Forewarned is really forearmed. If he hadn’t “downsized” his own life, he’d be in the same bind Charlie now found himself.

But Ed had caught the wind shift for middle management. He’d studied how to counter it. And now he knew he would be all right. With study, anything can be stabilized.

In time, even Charlie and his father-in-law would be okay. They might not have the clout they’d had, but they’d be all right. They’d be back on the treadmill.

Treadmill.

That was an interesting word to pop up at such a time. Did Ed consider that working in an office was a…treadmill? Had he been doing altered things over and over, from varying directions, and mentally getting nowhere? Hmmmm.

Was there a glass roof for men? Yeah. Long before women hit it, there had been men splattered against it.

Being “freed to follow other avenues” was a premise to be considered. At least Ed had no wife and kiddies to worry about.

Ed missed the drollness of the last thought as he arrived at the apartment house to fetch Marcia.

She was dressed in a demure, ladylike, light blue dress. She looked so sweet that she could be the choir director. She could, if the observer didn’t notice her sly eyes.

As Ed noticed them, her eyes cleared and the lashes lifted to look into his with honest candor.

This was a woman a man needed to be careful about. She could be dangerous to a man…to him…to Edgar Hollingsworth.

Well, he could handle a little danger.

Ed smiled and said, “You really look different lately. I think it could have been those coveralls.”

“Oh, do you suppose?”

“I didn’t realize you were…so female.”

“You’d never make a cop. No imagination at all.” She smiled, her teeth in her lower lip, and her eyes sparkled unduly.

She didn’t think he had any imagination? But he replied to her comment, “I’ve only known pragmatic cops.”

Marcia sassed, “They hide their humor and intelligence quite well.”

“How do you know that?”

She looked surprised. “I ran into a cop…just this week. It was a fluke, of course.”

“Of course.”

“But he said I’d turned wrong.”

Ed guessed, “It was a one-way street?”

She nodded soberly. “I went into the middle lane and had to back up for almost a mile on the thruway.”

Ed nodded serious bobs. “That was an experience. A challenge.”

She complained, “A lot of people honked at me.”

Again Ed’s head nodded in agreement. “That’s probably what they’d do.”

“A cop came along and led me.”

“Well! That was nice.”

She explained, “It was so it could be he who gave me the…the lecture! He was really…upset.”

“He didn’t want you wasted.”

She defended herself. “Nobody was shooting at me, only honking.”

“You’re beautiful.”

“I was in my painting coveralls and hat and wearing my glasses. He was not charmed by me…at all.”

“Did you drive yourself home?”

She was emphatic. “With great care.”

Keeping his eyes mostly on the road, Ed briefly glanced at her as he reached over and waggled her head. “I’m glad you weren’t hurt. The cop was probably sweating and worried and a father. Fathers tend to get upset when kids get in physical trouble and come out of it safely.”

She countered that. “I broke a fingernail.”

It took him a while to realize that was a bad thing. He asked kindly, “Which one?”

She held out her left hand and pointed to the little finger.

With his eyes on the road, he took her hand in his big one and lifted it to his mouth to kiss it. Then he put her hand on his thigh and covered it entirely with his bigger hand, holding it there. It was their first romantic encounter.