“Wishing for permanency isn’t a problem.” If anything, it’ll probably make me want to kill him arid bury his body in the basement. “But I work all day. I can’t take off to play Florence Nightingale.” She thought of Mrs. Hughes, but then quickly remembered that the older woman spent her days in nearby Eastchester, caring for her young grandchild while her daughter was at work.
“Taking off from work wouldn’t be necessary, as long as you have food for him. The fridge or the microwave is as far as he should go for his lunch.”
“Well, I do have a sofabed that’s pretty comfortable, but...I don’t know. How long will this be for?”
“Vivling…your reluctance…it wounds me.” Zack placed his palm over his heart.
She rolled her eyes. He was giving a performance worthy of Bernard Williams’s mother. She hoped Dr. Kalafus would help her out, but the woman was clearly enjoying Act One, Scene One. Shame on her. Hadn’t her mother taught her it wasn’t nice to take delight in the discomfort of others? “All right,” she said finally. “I guess it’s the least I can do, after you’ve taken such good care of my fr—of some people I know.”
“Well, it looks like that’s all set. I love happy endings,” Dr. Kalafus said, sounding so cheerful that Vivian wanted to smack her...or pelt her with popcorn. This was her life for the next week, not some MGM movie.
Zack puckered his lips and made a kissing sound. “Thanks, Vivling. I promise, you’ll miss me when I’m gone.”
“I’m already looking forward to it.”
Dr. Kalafus chuckled. “I’m sure it won’t be too difficult for you, Ms. St. James. All the doctor has to do is keep his foot elevated. Just remember, Dr. Warner, you shouldn’t try to bathe or do anything that might require assistance while you’re alone.”
Vivian’s head jerked. “Are you saying I’ll have to bathe him? That’s out of the question, Doctor.” She cast a murderous look Zack’s way. “One word out of you and I’ll twist your bad arm.”
“Ouch.”
“No, you won’t have to bathe him, Ms. St. James,” Dr. Kalafus assured. “I just think it’s best for someone to be at home when he’s in the shower in case he should lose his balance or need help for any other reason. Simple things, like getting in and out of the tub and finding out the soap is by the sink, can be a terrible inconvenience when only one leg is fully functional.”
“I’ll make sure I leave a bar in both places.” And so help me, if he gives me a hard time I’ll leave one on the floor as well.
“Excuse me. I want to see what’s holding up those crutches.” Dr. Kalafus left the room.
Zack had been sitting up, but now he laid back and rested his left hand on his abdomen. “Well, roomie, I just have one question. What’s for breakfast?”
“If you’re about to tell me how you like your eggs, don’t bother. I usually eat cereal.”
“I hope you like Cocoa Puffs.”
“I don’t touch that sugary stuff. That’s for kids.”
“I said Cocoa Puffs, not Frosted Flakes.”
“I eat Total.”
He made a face.
“It’s part of a balanced diet, but I know, you’d rather eat Cocoa Puffs. How did you manage to graduate from med school without passing nutrition?” He was unbelievable. This was unbelievable. She was his tenant, and now he was going to be her houseguest. What a crazy setup.
“Aw, don’t give me that righteous jazz. I’ll bet you’re the first one in line when the doughnut cart comes around.”
She glared at him. The truth was she had realized the probable connection between her sweet tooth and her weight gain and had given up on pastries, but she wasn’t about to share that fact with him.
“Here we are,” Dr. Kalafus said, returning with a set of long crutches. “Someone will be in shortly to train you on how to use these, but let’s just check the fit.” She continued speaking as Zack stood and positioned the crutches under his armpits. “I’d like you to follow up on Friday, either here or with your regular doctor.” She handed Zack a white sheet. “These are your written instructions, which we’ve already talked about. Please look them over so I can clarify anything if necessary. And remember that you can always call in case you’re unsure of anything.”
After satisfying the staff that he could maneuver with his crutches, including making repeated trips up and down the practice stairs, Zack was discharged from the emergency room. They insisted he utilize a wheelchair for his exit, and he held his crutches across his lap while Vivian pushed the chair.
“I like this. It reminds me of that movie, Rear Window with Jimmy Stewart. He had the beautiful Grace Kelly catering to his every whim, and I’ve got the beautiful Vivian St. James…not catering to my every whim, of course, but nearby.”
“My personal favorite is Kiss of Death, when Richard Widmark ties a lady to her wheelchair and pushes her down a flight of stairs.” She thought she saw his shoulders shudder at the creepy picture she painted, but he couldn’t see her smiling. Not because she’d shaken him up, but because he thought she was beautiful.
“My sofa is comfortable,” Vivian said. “My first apartment was a studio, so I bought a Castro Convertible. It was expensive, but it was worth it. I slept on it every night for four years. An ordinary sofa bed mattress never would have held up to that type of use.”
“Why don’t I just sit down for now? It’s too early to go to bed for the night.” He sank down and sighed loudly. “If the mattress feels as good as these cushions, I may never wake up. I might just sit here all night.”
She watched as he moved sideways and rested his bandaged foot on the cushion. “You don’t have anything to sleep in, do you?”
“I don’t even have anything that’s clean. I’m afraid I don’t have any other alternative but to ask if you would mind terribly going down to my house and picking up a few things for me? Some scrubs and some underwear is all I need. Maybe Glenda can go with you. I wouldn’t want you to go alone; it’s dark out.”
Vivian was reluctant. Her restful evening at home was becoming an endless round of errands; she’d be lucky if she got to bed before midnight. Still, Zack was in a spot. He had no clothes except for his paint-spattered sweatshirt and jeans. Besides, he looked awful, his handsome face pale and drawn, his vivid blue eyes dark. The stress of his accident, combined with the pain medication he received at the hospital, and the energy required to climb a tall flight of stairs on crutches, had worn him out.
“I’ll go call Glenda,” she said as brightly as she could.
Before she could leave, he put a hand on her forearm and stroked it creating a warm friction she could feel through her long-sleeved cotton blouse. “You know I hate to ask you this, Vivling.”
Oh, my. Between his large hand covering her arm and the low tone he used, which managed to be both seductive and sincere, if he’d asked her to go to Jupiter to retrieve his personal belongings she’d do it. “It’s all right. You’ve got to have clothes, and once you have them you’ll be all set.”
*****
“Are you kidding?” Glenda mused. “Get a chance to see his place without him being there? Hell, yeah, I’ll go. I hope you’re leaving right now.”
“I can always count on you to want to help me out, Glenda. Your motives are so…unselfish.”
“Never mind me and my selfless motives and get over here. I want to hear all about what happened…and I can’t wait to see where he lives.”
“I’m leaving now.”
“I’ll be in the lobby.”
True to her word, Glenda was standing in the lobby of her apartment building when Vivian reached Baychester. “Okay, where does he live?” she asked.
“Don’t you think you should at least get in the car before you start asking questions?”
Glenda pulled the door closed and fastened her seat belt. “Okay, I’m in. Give me the scoop!” She rubbed her palms together for emphasis.
“He lives on One Hundred Seventeenth Street in Harlem. He has a browns
tone.”
“A brownstone! I should have known. The man’s a doctor.”
“He’s a doctor, but I don’t think he makes the money you’re thinking about. Remember, he specializes in emergency medicine. It’s the other specialties, like the plastics or cardiovascular guys, who are making the real ducats.”
“All right, but I’m sure he’s not going hungry.”
“Of course not.”
During the rest of the drive they exchanged details of their respective weekends, with Vivian telling her friend about coming home from Connecticut and finding Zack on the floor near an overturned ladder in the apartment upstairs.
“Oh, that is soooo romantic.”
“What, finding him moaning in pain or bringing him to the ER?” Neither situation was anything Vivian had dreamed about.
“The whole thing. I’ll bet he’s feeling real grateful, and to think he’ll be staying with you the whole week. This is a great opportunity to get to know him.”
“Yeah.” Vivian’s dull tone caught Glenda’s attention.
“What?” she said.
“Don’t you think that two people should already know each other before they start hosting each other for a week at a time? Zack’s essentially a stranger to me, Glenda!”
Glenda nodded. “You’re concerned about having a strange man in the house.”
“Wouldn’t you be?”
“Not really, not in this situation.” Glenda began counting off on her fingers. “First of all, Zack is a respected member of the medical community. Second of all, he gave you the keys to his house, which proves he trusts you. I mean, look around. Even without a whole lot of furniture, this place has to be worth over a million dollars. Third, he’s your landlord. And last, he’s a good friend of Desireé and her boyfriend—I mean, fiancé, and his parents live right underneath you. I know it’s a little unorthodox, but I doubt he’s a serial killer, Viv.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“Besides,” Glenda added with a gleam in her eye, “isn’t one dead body in your building enough in a single week?”
“Kiss my ass,” Vivian replied affectionately. “And speaking of getting to know someone, how is Terry?”
“Oh, he’s fine. Trying to get me in the sack. I like him, Viv, but I think of him more of a friend. If I was going to fall in love it probably would have happened by now. It.doesn’t take long, you know.”
“Well, maybe you should stop seeing him. You wouldn’t want to lead him on.”
“I’m not leading him on. He’s not saying anything about being in love with me, either. He just wants some nookie.”
Vivian was too busy counting the passing streets to reply. Finally she turned onto One Hundred Seventeenth.
“Nice block,” Glenda said. “All the houses have been refurbished...or at least most of them,” she amended when they passed one with its windows and doorway boarded up.
Vivian had to agree that she was impressed herself. There were few structures more handsome than the old brownstones and townhouses of Manhattan. It was obvious that the residents of this block loved their homes. A few of the buildings were lined with attractive black wrought-iron fences, and some enterprising homeowners had planted flowers on the sides of their homes, giving an odd look of suburbia to the middle of one of the most urban sections of New York.
“This is it,” Vivian said, pointing. “Let’s park.”
“Four floors. Does he live here alone?”
“Yes, that’s what he told the doctor.”
They got out of the car, and Glenda walked a little beyond the steps leading to the main entrance. “That must be a separate apartment,” she said in a stage whisper, pointing to a door a few steps below street level. There’s a light over the door. Someone lives there. It doesn’t look like they’re home, but there’s a light on upstairs. You’re sure no one else lives with him?”
“He said he leaves a timer on, because his shifts rotate. If he’s at work all night he doesn’t want anyone who might be watching his house to figure out he’s not there. He has an alarm system, too. I’ll have to disable it”
“What?”
“Relax. All I have to do is press a button. But the door has to be closed, so as soon as I get it unlocked, get in quickly so we can close it behind us. I’ve only got thirty seconds to turn off the alarm.”
The tall, oak door was heavy, and a loud beeping noise began as soon as she opened it a fraction of an inch. They rushed inside and closed the door, and then Vivian pressed the “off” button on Zack’s keychain. The beeping continued, and she tried it again.
Glenda looked on anxiously, holding clenched fists at waist level and shaking them up and down. “Hurry up, Viv. If that thing goes off we’re likely to be arrested. Or shot,” she added wryly.
Vivian depressed the button and counted to five before letting go. The beeping sounded twice more in quick succession and then stopped. She and Glenda simultaneously let out the breath they had been holding. “That was close. Good thing I asked Zack to answer my phone.”
“You did? What if Bernard calls?”
Vivian smiled. “I’m sure he will. He’ll get the wrong idea about the man who’s answering my phone, but this is one case where the wrong idea can be a good thing…Glenda?”
Her friend was already halfway up the stairs.
*****
“Well, there’s nothing on the top floor but a bathroom in the corner of a huge room,” Glenda reported. “My cousins in North Carolina have what they call bonus rooms over the garage, where they put pool tables, computers, big screen TVs, stuff like that, but imagine having one right here in New York.”
“You ought to be ashamed of yourself, traipsing all around Zack’s house.”
“I’m nosey, all right? Besides, I didn’t traipse about the entire house, just the third floor. I want to wait for you to go into his bedroom on the second.”
Vivian didn’t point out that the top floor was the fourth floor, when you counted the garden level downstairs.
“What’re you still doing down here, anyway? I thought you’d be up in his bedroom by now, getting some clothes for him.”
“I was…looking around down here.”
“A ha! And you call me nosey.”
“Not in the way you mean,” Vivian protested. “I wanted to see what kinds of foods he likes, like cereal, and what type of frozen food he keeps in his freezer. He likes honey-nut Cheerios, chicken pot pie, and parmesan-crusted tilapia.”
Glenda’s eyes darted about. “So what’s down here besides the living room?”
Vivian began counting off on her fingers. “A dining room, a powder room, a utility closet with washer and dryer, and a top-of-the-line eat-in kitchen with granite counters and an island countertop with stools. Plus there’s a deck and garden out back.”
“I wanna see.” Glenda was already halfway to the back of the house. She paused in the empty dining room, running her fingertips over the pecan wainscoting. “This can be beautiful. Put a gorgeous table in here and one of those really elegant chandeliers…why do you suppose it’s empty?”
Vivian shrugged. “My guess would be that a single man doesn’t have much need for a formal dining room. He can eat at the kitchen table or at the countertop, or outside on the deck in the summertime.”
Glenda moved to the kitchen to the left of the dining room. “Wow. He probably spent more on this kitchen than I did on my car.” The off-white cabinetry picked up on the color scheme of the countertops, which were a swirl of brown, off white, and cranberry. The doors of the built-in refrigerator were covered in paneling that matched the cabinets, easily spotted because of the water and ice dispensers and ornate satin nickel handles. The other appliances—microwave and oven built into the wall in a vertical line and dual-drawer dishwasher, were in stainless steel, and the cooktop was black. The kitchen also included a full-height wine cooler. “He must drink a lot of wine,” Glenda remarked, looking at the well-stocked cooler. She opened the do
or and pulled out sample bottles. “Adobe rosé…Hafner red…Domaine Char…Char—” she shook her head and returned it, then pulled out the next one. “Thie-no—hey, the ones on this side must be more expensive…I can’t even pronounce them.”
“What, no Yellow Tail?” Vivian quipped.
“Hardly.” Glenda pulled out the bottle on the far right and whooped. “This cinches it. Dom Perignon. I know how much this costs.”
“Enough with the wine, Glenda. Let’s get his clothes and get out of here before one of his neighbors reports two suspicious women entering the house.”
They headed for the stairs. Vivian didn’t notice a staircase leading to the garden level and presumed it had been set up as a separate apartment.
Vivian was pleased with what she saw. Zack was a neat man. Other than a few dishes in the kitchen sink and some linty patches on the area rugs that could use a vacuuming, the typically narrow brownstone was quite orderly. They went upstairs, and she simply stood for a minute or so, taking in the walnut bedroom suite consisting of a highboy, night tables, and a king-size four- poster bed. Then she went into action. As she transferred clean underwear from the top drawer of the highboy into the nylon duffel bag he’d instructed was on the shelf of his coat closet downstairs, she couldn’t help wondering how many female occupants that four-poster had known.
“So, is it boxers or briefs?”
Vivian looked up to see Glenda standing in the doorway. “Briefs.”
“That figures. He doesn’t look like the boxer type.”
Vivian knelt to get a few pairs of shorts from the bottom drawer. “What else did you see?”
“Two more bedrooms, both empty except for window blinds.”
“Is there another bathroom?”
“There looks like one, but it’s not done yet. There are some pipes coming out from the floor and a round thing where the toilet would go. So when it’s finished, he’ll have three full baths and a powder room.” Glenda chuckled. “I remember I was watching this movie where a couple relocated to New York because the woman accepted a job offer. In one scene the husband was complaining about how expensive it was to live here and mentioned their rent alone was three thousand dollars. Then in the next scene they’re coming back from bike riding, and the wife asks the husband if he wants to shower first. I said to myself, ‘Their rent is three thousand a month and they only have one bathroom?’”
Accidentally Yours Page 12
