The Fix-It Man

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  “No, I didn’t see the bottle. My mind was occupied with something else,” he said edgily. “Perhaps you’d rather I adopted an out of sight, out of mind philosophy toward you?”

  “I wish you’d been thinking about the fact that the girls were coming home, and that we don’t want to advertise our little arrangement!”

  “Is it my responsibility, then?” His blue eyes grew icy. “You’re allowed to float around in a romantic haze, but I’m supposed to make sure all the telltale signs are erased? Sorry, but you didn’t make that clear.”

  “I thought I made it very clear! Obviously you don’t understand how perceptive those girls are. The shorts you suggested I wear caught their attention immediately, and then they complained because Beethoven was out all night, which was also your idea, and then you leave wine bottles sitting around, so—”

  “Diana.” He gripped her shoulders and gave her a little shake. “Cut it out. You’re very close to ruining the beautiful thing we’ve been building so carefully the past few hours.”

  She looked at him mutinously, then slowly her rebellion crumbled, and her eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “All of a sudden I’m consumed with guilt, and I’m heaping it on you, just like you said I would.”

  “That about sums it up.” He smiled gently. “But I accept your apology.”

  “Oh, Zach, I think we blew it. We got carried away with our emotions and forgot we’ve got to be on guard every moment.”

  “You’re blowing the girls’ reaction out of proportion, imagining they know more than they do.”

  “No, they sense changes around here. All of them were small—insignificant—until they put everything together. First off, I met them with rock music blaring from the radio.”

  Zach’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “You did?”

  “I felt so good, so happy, and the music fit my mood perfectly.”

  “I can relate to that.” He rubbed his hands up and down her upper arms.

  “You’d better let go of me. One of them could come out here.”

  “Are you kidding? Those girls were walking zombies. They’re out cold by now.”

  “Please.”

  He sighed and dropped his hands. “Okay.”

  “Anyway, Laurie wanted to know why I was playing their music without being asked. That surprised both of them. Then they noticed my —Laurie’s—shorts.”

  “And then you opened your mouth about Beethoven.”

  “No, I didn’t,” she protested. “Allison asked me if he’d wandered around the house looking for her last night.”

  “And you couldn’t have said yes?”

  She regarded him steadily. “No, I couldn’t.”

  “It’s a little white lie, Diana. You wouldn’t be drummed out of Springfield for telling a little white lie. I bet even Abraham Lincoln told at least one in his life.”

  “I’m sorry. I couldn’t do it, that’s all.”

  He groaned. “Because you feel guilty. Keeping our relationship a secret from them will be harder than I thought.”

  “No, it won’t.” She stared at a point past his shoulder.

  “Diana, carrying on a love affair and keeping it secret from two smart girls will almost surely involve a few white lies.”

  She swallowed hard. “That’s why we won’t have a love affair,” she said, not looking at him.

  He stared at her for a long moment, and when he spoke his voice was emotionless. “We won’t.” It wasn’t a question.

  “No. They may think something happened last night, but we’ll give them no more reason to believe it, and the whole incident will be forgotten.”

  “Oh, will it?”

  Her head jerked around, and her eyes grew moist. “I don’t mean by me. By them.”

  “That’s a relief. I was beginning to wonder how cold and cruel you could be.” He had somehow managed to wipe all expression from his face.

  “I don’t intend to be cruel.” Her lower lip quivered. “You think this is an easy decision for me?”

  “I don’t know. You came to it awfully fast. Was I a disappointment to you last night?”

  “That’s a ridiculous thing to say.”

  “I wonder. What we shared must mean less to you than it does to me. Otherwise you’d be more willing to find ways around our problems.”

  “There are no ways around our problems.” Her voice shook. “The difference between us is that I care about the feelings of those girls, and you’re only interested in satisfying your sexual urges!”

  “That’s a rotten thing to say.”

  “As of now I feel like a rotten person, so I guess it figures. And right now this rotten person has a load of laundry to do and music students coming this afternoon. For some reason I seem to be behind in my work.”

  “And with you, that’s probably an unforgivable sin,” he said. “Don’t let me keep you from your duty.”

  “I almost did, but now I understand what must be done. If you’re unhappy, you’re free to move out at any time.”

  He looked as if she’d slapped him, and then the dazed expression left his face. “The hell I will,” he said, hunching his shoulders. “I’m staying right here. I want to see if you can stand up under your own edict.”

  Her face flushed. “I could order you to leave. After all, you’re not a handyman.”

  “You could do that.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “But you won’t, because Allison and Laurie would never forgive you. When I move out of my own free will, they’ll have to accept it. But if you throw me out, you’ll be one unpopular lady.”

  “You’re very sure of yourself.”

  “No, I’m very hurt. But I’m willing to wage guerrilla warfare to win back what I’ve lost.”

  She faced him resolutely. “It won’t work, Zach.”

  “We’ll see.”

  They stood, gazes locked in silent combat, until inevitably the fire in his eyes ignited a warmth in her body. Dropping her gaze, she fled.

  * * *

  Monday afternoon Laurie and Allison brought Diana the announcement of a band trip scheduled for the following month. She glanced over the letter, and the paper trembled in her hand. The girls would be gone two nights this time. She tucked the announcement in a desk drawer and vowed to keep the news from Zach for as long as possible.

  On Tuesday the girls started picking arguments with each other. She tried to ignore their behavior, but at last, on Friday afternoon, with the Bad News Brass due soon, she decided enough was enough. The tension of living in the same house with Zach, combined with the girls’ constant bickering, drove her to take action. She stood at the bottom of the stairs and listened, trying to understand the problem. What had happened to the lovely comradeship that had been developing between her daughters?

  “Beating a drum is easy!” Laurie shouted. “Any bimbo can do it. Try playing the flute and see if you’ll be chosen.”

  “Try practicing your flute once in a while, Pucker-lips, and maybe you’ll have a chance in the tryouts,” Allison sneered. “I work on these drums every day.”

  “Yeah, and disturb the whole neighborhood. At least my flute plays a real song, not some banging and crashing like garbage cans tipping over in the alley.”

  Her mouth set in a grim line, Diana started up the stairs. Zach was supposed to be working in his room, but she doubted anyone could concentrate with both girls in full voice. And she wanted him to finish his dissertation. The sooner he did, the sooner he’d be gone. When he left, her house and her heart would be cold and empty, but at least she wouldn’t have the constant tug-of-war between her desires and her concern for her daughters’ welfare.

  “You don’t like drums because you have no sense of rhythm,” Allison taunted.

  “Speak for yourself, bimbo. Every time the band gets off the beat, it’s because of the drums. And guess who’s on the drums.”

  Diana arrived in the doorway of Allison’s room in time to see Laurie stick out her tongue and
Allison pick up a shoe. She aimed too high, and the brown loafer sailed over Laurie and Diana’s heads to land smack against a solid object. Diana spun around and saw Zach standing in the hall, rubbing his forehead.

  “Didn’t know I was in the line of fire,” he said bemusedly.

  Laurie’s face grew red with embarrassment and she raced back to Allison’s room. “You bimbo! Guess what you’ve done now.”

  Diana hurried toward Zach. “I’m terribly sorry.”

  His gaze roamed over her. “Are you?”

  She grew uncomfortable under his thorough appraisal. “Of course.” She started down the hall toward the stairs. “I’ll get some ice from the kitchen so you won’t have a lump. I’m sure if we put ice on it right away, we can —”

  His fingers encircled her wrist. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about the ice.”

  “I think it would be a good idea, so if you don’t mind—”

  His thumb caressed the inside of her wrist. “You have a very strong pulse,” he said softly. “Why?”

  “Are you okay, Zach?” Allison asked, appearing hesitantly from the depths of her room. “Laurie, uh, mentioned my shoe accidentally, that is, sort of…”

  “Typical bimbo stunt,” Laurie muttered, trailing after her.

  “I’ll live,” Zach said, releasing Diana’s wrist. “Which is more than I can guarantee for you two, the way you’re blasting each other. What’s the problem?”

  “Yes, for heaven’s sake, girls. Zach’s trying to work on his dissertation.”

  “Actually, I was composing a poem to the moon goddess.”

  Allison seized on his statement as a way to change the subject. “You write poetry? Freaky!”

  Diana refused to look at him. Guerrilla warfare was right. He hadn’t missed an opportunity all week to make a veiled reference to their night together or accidentally touch her and hold the contact a moment longer than necessary. Her nerves were wearing very thin.

  “I write when I’m inspired,” he commented, glancing at Diana’s taut face. “It’s been a little slow the past few days, what with the noise and all.”

  Allison scrubbed the toe of her sneaker across the wooden floor. “Oh.”

  “So why are you two throwing things?”

  “I didn’t throw anything,” Laurie announced loftily.

  Allison bristled. “Oh, of course not, Miss Perfect Pants. You only stuck your tongue out at me.”

  “I asked why, not who,” Zach said evenly. “You don’t each have to tell me everything you know about the other. It’s none of my business.”

  Both girls’ eyes rounded as they absorbed this new philosophy.

  “It’s our instruments,” Allison said. “Laurie says drums are a cinch.”

  “They are,” Laurie insisted, “compared to the intricacies of a flute.”

  “Intricacies?” Allison hooted. “I bet you pulled that word out of last week’s vocabulary quiz. What a stuck-up word.”

  Diana could be silent no longer. “You girls didn’t used to make fun of each other’s instruments. After all these years you should both realize each one is important to the band.”

  “Tell that to our band director,” Laurie muttered. “He says we have too many flutes to take them all on the band trip to Champaign now that the trip budget has been cut, so he’s having tryouts for the flute section.”

  The band trip, Diana thought in dismay. They were going to discuss it in front of Zach.

  He glanced at her and raised his eyebrows before returning his attention to Laurie. “This outing must be a big deal.”

  “Big deal is right,” Allison chortled. “Greyhound bus, staying Friday and Saturday night in a motel, playing in a competition. It’ll be freaky!”

  “Sounds like it,” Zach said, gazing steadily at Diana. She avoided the challenge of his eyes. “When is it?” he asked casually.

  “Three weeks from Friday,” Allison said. “I can hardly wait!”

  Laurie made a face. “I can. It’ll be a dumb trip.”

  “You’re just saying that because I’ll get to go for sure, and you might not.”

  “It’s not fair! You’re a seventh grader, and I’m an eighth grader. I should automatically get to go instead of you.”

  “Let me guess,” Zach said. “The same band that’s long on flutes is short on drummers.”

  “Can I help it if I picked drums?” Allison said. “I wish all the flutes could go, too. At least I did, until Laurie started acting so mean.”

  “Laurie, you may do fine in the tryouts,” Diana said. But if you don’t, you can be a chaperone for your mother at home.

  “Mom, you know how I freeze up when I have to play solos. I’m better than I used to be, but still…”

  Yes, she knew. She had one daughter who threw herself into performing as if made for the spotlight and another who wanted nothing more than to be lost in the crowd. Laurie’s love of music was tempered by the fear that if she became too proficient, she’d stand out. Now her reluctance to shine was catching up with her.

  “I hope you make it, Laurie,” Zach said evenly.

  I bet you do, Diana thought. And so did she, for Laurie’s sake. For her own peace of mind, she’d rather have Laurie stay at home.

  “But in case you don’t,” he continued, “how about an alternate plan?”

  “Like what?” Laurie didn’t look interested.

  “Seems to me that’s the same weekend that rock group you like so much is in town.”

  Laurie’s eyes widened in wonder. “You mean go to the rock concert?”

  “Why not?”

  “I’ve never been to a rock concert.” Laurie seemed dazed by the prospect.

  “Neither have I.” Allison looked uncertain about her privileged drummer’s status. “But I’d still rather go on the band trip.”

  “To tell the truth, so would I,” Laurie said. “And I’m going to practice hard for those tryouts. But if I don’t make it, the concert idea sounds super.” She hesitated. “Who will buy the tickets?”

  “I will,” Zach and Diana said at once.

  “Zach,” Diana protested. “It’s a great idea, but you can’t afford—”

  “Yes, I can, thanks to living here instead of in a hotel. Besides, I have a guilty conscience because I haven’t fixed the kitchen sink.” He gave her a lopsided smile.

  Her stomach churned. Last Saturday morning he’d promised to keep her satisfied in bed so that she wouldn’t notice the dripping faucet. “Okay,” she said slowly. “When are the tryouts, Laurie?”

  “Monday, and I plan to spend the weekend practicing. Tuesday the band director will announce who made it. Can we still get tickets then?”

  “Maybe not front row,” Zach said. “But I’m not quite that rich, anyway. A few seats will be available, I’m sure.”

  “I’ll sit anywhere,” Laurie said, smiling. “Thanks, Zach.” She reached up and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “You’re great.”

  “So are you, Laurie.” He gave her a quick hug. “Think you two can hold it down now?”

  “Sure, Zach,” Allison promised. “Sorry we bothered you.” She looked at him slyly. “If I break my finger or something like that, can I go to the concert?”

  Diana glanced sharply at her daughter. “Allison, don’t you dare—”

  “Oh, I won’t. I really want to go on the trip. Just covering all the angles, Mom.”

  “Okay, Al,” Zach said, chuckling. “The concert will be considered compensation for all minor disasters that might keep you from going on the trip. Does that satisfy you?”

  Allison nodded happily. “Yep. Guess I’ll do some homework now. See you two later.”

  “Yeah, me, too,” Laurie said, heading for her room. “Plus I’ve gotta practice.” Both bedroom doors closed, and the hall was silent.

  “The Bad News Brass will be here any minute,” Diana mumbled, turning toward the stairway.

  “How long have you known about this trip?”

  She paused o
n the landing. “The letter came home Monday.”

  “You deliberately didn’t mention it to me.”

  She glanced at him over her shoulder. “That’s right.”

  “Scared?” he asked softly.

  The familiar ache began as she saw desire flare in his eyes. “Why should I be? All I have to do is tell you I’m not interested.”

  “That’s all you have to do,” he agreed, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his muscular chest. “But I know how terrible you are at lying.”

  Irritation flashed through her. “You’re so damn sure of yourself.”

  “I have reason to be.” He cocked his head toward the open door of his bedroom. “Remember?”

  “Why don’t you leave me alone?”

  He gazed at her, his blue eyes dark with leashed passion. “Sometimes I wish I could.” He shook his head. “Sometimes I wish I could.”

  She tore her gaze from his and ran down the stairs before her trembling arms could reach for him and her traitorous voice begged him to love her.

  * * *

  Flute music echoed through the house all weekend, but Tuesday afternoon brought the news that Diana had almost expected—Laurie was not chosen for the trip. Zach whisked her up immediately and drove her to the ticket office before she had time to sink into depression. As Diana watched him drive away, contradictory emotions tugged at her.

  She felt Laurie’s disappointment keenly, but it was leavened with relief that her resolve to stay away from Zach would not be tested. And she was glad, wasn’t she? She chewed on her lower lip and tried to convince herself of the wisdom of never again making love to Zach. Succumbing to desire could only bring more heartache.

  In the days that followed she repeated that sentiment over and over, hoping that eventually it would become so much a part of her that the incessant yearning would lessen. But her body was no longer ignorant of the pleasures Zachary Wainwright could bring, and it clamored for his touch.

  She kept busy away from the house on school days, for fear that a look, a chance brush of fingertips, would destroy all her resolutions. All that kept her from falling apart was the growing affection between Zach and the girls. They idolized him, and she realized that he had been right when he said she couldn’t throw him out. Allison and Laurie would never forgive her.