by George Eliot
house?"
Lance placed his arms around her stomach, sniffed and licked her neck. "You
taste good," he said.
"Stop that," she said unconvincingly.
He cupped her breast with his left hand. "You feel good, too."
"Lance, don't," she said absently. "I would love to sit here all day, looking at
these mountains I love so much and writing short stories and novels, but, Lance,
I have to earn a living. My work here is finished."
He pushed his right hand under the waistband of her shorts as he said, "Toni,
move in with me."
She whirled from his grasp and slapped him sharply. "What's wrong with you,
Lance Sayer. I'm not going to be your live-in prostitute."
He watched in dismay as she stomped to the fireplace and pretended to look at
the wood they earlier so carefully stacked in preparation for the first cold
snap of fall. "Toni, I didn't mean it that way. I love you."
She kept her eyes on the fireplace. "You are important to me, Lance. I like you.
I like you a lot. I shared things with you I wouldn't share with another living
soul. We've enjoyed a couple of beautiful moments together. I wouldn't take a
million dollars for them. Nevertheless, Lance, it's over. I'm not going to be
your lover."
He slumped in the oversized swivel chair behind his desk. "I can't figure you
out, Toni. You practically begged me to make love to you at the falls. You
claimed your hang-up with arousal was over. Now you say you don't want to be my
lover." He looked at her pathetically.
"We enjoyed a moment," she agreed, "and for that moment I was over my hang-up.
By the time we reached the pharmacy, the moment was gone and the guilt was
back."
"Can we go back to being friends?" he asked, his words barely audible.
She sat on the hearth and wrapped her arms around her knees. "I'll make you a
proposition," she said. "Take it or leave it."
"I'll take it," he said hopefully.
"Silly, you haven't heard it yet. I need a job. I'm a good housekeeper and cook.
I'll move in and look after things if you like, but there'll be no hanky-panky.
You are using the front bedroom, so I'll move into the rear bedroom. When I'm in
the bathroom, you stay out and I'll do the same for you. If you like, I'll keep
trying to write and use the computer setup you have for me here in the study."
"I want a personal relationship, not a business deal, but I'll take what I can
get."
"I can keep your books for you also if you trust me."
"You are a bookkeeper?"
"That was another part of my short story taken from real life. After I graduated
from high school, I went to work for Mr. Hoots at the Danbury Pharmacy. After a
couple of years, I started keeping his books. He even sent me to Forsyth Tech to
learn proper bookkeeping technique."
"Why did you quit?"
"I didn't. He retired and sold out to CVS. They do everything by computer hookup
and have a central bookkeeping office."
"I'll pay any salary you suggest if I can afford it."
"Room, board and two thousand a month."
"Five thousand."
"Two."
"You're hired." He tried to smile.
"I'll move in tomorrow morning."
"Sean Taylor and some of his technicians will be here in the morning installing
Internet and television dish antennas. If you will wait until tomorrow
afternoon, I'll help you move."
"Buddy will help me."
"Look," he said as he stood and approached her with his hand extended. "I'll
behave myself."
She shook his hand and smiled. "Thanks for understanding."
"I did not say I understand. It's getting late. Let's get cleaned up and see
what Skinny has on the menu."
"Not tonight," she said as she glanced away. "I'm afraid I'm busy."
"Doing what?"
Her eyes flashed. "It's none of your business, Lance Sayer. You're not my
keeper."
"Yes, ma'am."
Lance did not want to sit in the Danbury Diner alone, surrounded by hostile
neighbors. The cupboard was bare and the refrigerator was empty. He was too
tired to drive to Winston and decided to swallow his pride and go to Flint's
Grocery for supplies. Baloney sandwiches would have to do for supper.
"Hi stranger," Tracy said when he sneaked into her store. "Long time, no see."
"Who are you and what did you do with Tracy Flint?"
She smiled as she rounded the counter and approached him, fluffing her short
hair. "You like it?" she asked.
"Yes, I do," he answered sincerely.
She leaned forward slightly. "Go on, touch it," she invited. "Tell me if it's
still greasy."
He laughed and placed both hands firmly on her auburn hair. He felt her tremble.
Uh, oh, he warned himself. What's going on here? "It's not greasy, Tracy," he
said. "You look adorable."
"You think I need to get rid of the bib?"
He shook his head and grinned. "Nobody would recognize you without your bib
overalls," he said. "They're cute and practical."
"Lance, we got off on the wrong foot. It was my fault and I apologize." She
extended her right hand. "Peace?"
He clasped her hand with both of his and again felt her tremble. "Peace," he
agreed.
"What can I do you for tonight?"
"I'm not in the mood to go to the diner for supper and I'm out of food at the
cabin. I need to stock up and go home to a gourmet baloney sandwich meal."
"You gather up what you need, but you're having supper with me tonight."
"I wouldn't want to put you out."
"Did I hear you say you want me to put out?"
He blushed and she laughed. "The man that fills in for me from five to nine
called in sick, so I'm stuck here tonight. His wife dropped off fried chicken
and all the trimmings. There's plenty for both of us."
While Lance filled a shopping cart, Tracy produced a card table from the back
room, placed it beside the potbellied stove, added paper plates and a cloth
covered basket. After ringing up his purchases, she nodded towards the beverage
cooler. "I want a beer. Help yourself to whatever you like."
He pulled two Budweisers from the cooler and joined her at the table.
"You done with the cabin?"
He nodded. "Moved in today."
"I didn't think you'd stick it out. I was really wrong about you."
Lance searched his mind for some acceptable topic of conversation. "Tracy, there
are many things I have yet to figure out about this community."
"Like what?"
"Well, like why a beautiful woman named Tracy Flint isn't hitched."
She grinned. "Maybe I'm gay."
He chewed on a tough piece of chicken. It sure isn't Toni fried, he thought.
"Are you?"
"Want to go in the back room and find out?"
He blushed and washed down the chicken with a gulp from the beer bottle.
"I had a thing going for ten years with the mechanic who worked for my dad. I
figured sooner or later we'd get married."
"What happened?"
"When I inherited the store, he quit. Said he wasn't about to work for a woman.
He took a job over in Walnut Cove. Turned out he was messing around with a
chubby
sweetie over there all along."
"Ouch."
"Yeah," she smiled weakly. "I still miss him sometimes."
"You'd take him back after that?"
"I don't know. I might."
She seemed near tears. "Want to talk about it?"
"You don't mind?"
"Of course not."
He soon regretted the statement. She talked nonstop for thirty minutes,
supplying intimate details he did not want to hear.
"Tracy," he said when she seemed to have run out of steam, "the company's great
and the supper was delicious. I thank you, but it's been a long day. Let me help
you clean up and then I have to get on home."
She glanced around. "You see any customers?"
He laughed.
"I must stay here until nine o'clock. Cleaning up will help pass the time. You
run on home and get some shuteye."
They both stood. Tracy dropped her eyes. "Some folks say I have diarrhea of the
mouth. I shouldn't have talked so much tonight, but I appreciate your
listening."
He grinned as he picked up two bags of groceries. "Maybe I'll tell you my life
story sometime."
He stared in awe as she stacked his case of Pepsi-Colas on top of the case of
Budweisers and lifted them easily. "I'll take these out for you," she said.
After storing his purchases in the trunk of the Taurus, Lance opened the driver
side door and said, "Thanks again, Tracy."
"Just one more second," she said as she approached. She slammed her body against
his, locked her arms around his neck, bit his lower lip and plunged her tongue
deep inside his mouth. Lance thought the tip of her tongue must have reached the
spot where his tonsils used to be. She clung to his neck and rubbed her massive
chest against his.
He tried desperately to decide what he should do with his hands.
"You sleeping with Toni Conners?" Tracy asked when she released him.
"No," he said, realizing his knees were weak. "We're definitely not lovers."
"Didn't think so," she said. "Why don't you call me sometime. I'm in the book
under Flint's Grocery." She headed back to the store without waiting for a
reply.
Lance sank into the new recliner in the ballroom and clicked on the big screen
TV. There was nothing on the Winston-Salem channel that interested him and
channel twelve was all he could get with rabbit ears. Tomorrow night I will have
hundreds of channels from which to choose, he reminded himself.
He turned off the TV, locked the front door, turned off the lights and climbed
the steps to his new bedroom. He soaked for thirty minutes in the new WhirlPool,
remembering in detail Toni's short story. After brushing his teeth he returned
to the bedroom and crawled between the sheets on his new, king-sized bed. It was
much more comfortable than the one in the RV, but sleep did not come.
He missed the roar of the window air-conditioner in the RV. The central air
system Buddy installed worked beautifully, but made little noise. He relived the
trip to Window Falls. He recalled the sensation of Tracy's long tongue reaching
the deepest recesses of his mouth. He wondered if he could keep his promise to
Toni, once she moved into the rear bedroom. A platonic relationship was
definitely not what he wanted � needed.
There was a strange sound from the ceiling and he concentrated on it. Rain, he
realized. Gentle rain on the tin roof is as soothing as Toni promised.
Morning sun streaming through the window woke him. He snatched his watch from
the bedside table. "Six o'clock," he muttered. "Why didn't Toni wake me?" Then
he remembered Toni was not coming this morning, but she would soon be moving in.
He breakfasted on toast and coffee and worked in his study until nine answering
more than eighty email messages that accumulated while he was working on the
restoration of the cabin. He agonized over the slow modem response, but
comforted himself in the knowledge that the dish antenna Sean Taylor was to
install this morning would allow connection to the Internet through the much
faster satellite.
He answered the pounding on the front door and apologized to Toni and Buddy for
forgetting to unlock it. He made a mental note to give Toni a key and offered to
help unload Buddy's pickup, but even as he spoke a two-ton truck rumbled into
view followed by a Chevrolet wagon.
"Sorry, guys," Lance said. "Sean arrived earlier than I expected."
As Sean's crew unloaded equipment from the truck, Lance pointed out the area
where Buddy and his crew previously installed in concrete the tower mount and
guy-wire supports.
There was little Lance could do but watch as the experienced crew from Dollar
Computer Services bolted together five ten-foot sections of tower, strung
guy-wires and tightened them with a come-along. By noon, the men completed the
mounting of two dish antennas, and thirty minutes later, proper satellite
alignment flooded the big screen TV in the ballroom and the twenty-one inch
screens in the study, kitchen and master bedroom with flawless pictures. Lance
watched in awe as Sean tested the Internet connection by downloading site after
site in the blink of an eye.
"Sean, are you certain Toni can access the Internet at the same time I am using
it?" Lance asked.
Sean laughed. "Don't trust me, do you?" He left Lance's computer set on the
Dollar home page, flipped on Toni's computer, and quickly accessed the net.
"Don't forget to set up an e-mail account for Toni," Lance said.
"I already have," Sean replied. "Her address is [email protected]."
"Did I hear someone use my name?"
Both men turned towards the door.
"I have hotdogs ready in the dining room if anyone's interested."
As Sean and Lance followed Toni, Sean whispered, "Lance, she's a living doll."
When all had eaten their fill, the men from Dollar Computer Services departed.
"All moved in?" Lance asked Toni.
She nodded. "Almost. Lance, we put my stuff in three of the unused bedrooms. I
thought I'd try to get my bedroom fixed up this afternoon and find a home for
the rest later."
"Ugly," Buddy interrupted. "All that junk from your desk is still in your car.
Where do you want me to put it?"
"Is it okay, Lance, for us to stack it in the study until I can get to it?"
"Sure."
Suddenly, Toni wrapped her arms around Buddy's neck and kissed him full on the
lips. Lance turned away, unprepared for this display of affection, but he heard
her say, "Handsome, thanks for the help. I don�t know what I'd do without you."
Lance retreated to the study and played with the new Internet connection.
Minutes later, Buddy stacked three boxes beside Toni's computer desk.
"Hate to interrupt ya," Buddy said, "but we need to settle up."
Lance pushed back from his desk as Buddy pulled a shoebox from one of the
cartons beside Toni's desk. "I was just playing with my new toy," Lance said.
Buddy dropped the box on Lance's desk. "Them receipts ain't in no kind of order,
but I kept up with everything on this here pad."
Lance took the soiled pad from Buddy and studied it for a few minutes. "You've
paid all
the bills, including what we owe the crew and Toni?"
"Yeah, and there's a little over forty thousand left over from your advances."
"I don't see where you've paid yourself."
"We never come to no agreement."
"What's your work worth, Buddy? I honestly don't know. I trust you. Name a fair
figure."
Buddy propped on Toni's desk. "I know it sounds like a fortune, but twenty
thousand is fair."
Lance studied the man before him. His belly did not protrude nearly so far over
his belt as it did just two months earlier. "You worked your butt off, Buddy,
and you did an outstanding job. I've advanced you one hundred and fifty thousand
to date. You say there's forty thousand left, so you've spent only one hundred
ten thousand. You originally estimated the cost at two hundred thousand."
"I done good," Buddy grinned.
"That's my point. If you keep the forty thousand you say is left from my
advances, I've still saved fifty thousand dollars."
Buddy's grin turned to surprise. "Ain't worth forty grand," he said. "Twenty's
fair."
"Maybe, but I want you to keep the forty thousand and we'll forget about the
past rent you owe."
"Ain't gonna argue with ya," Buddy said as he moved closer to the bay window and
looked out over the lake. "Me and Toni will get the fishing contest started next
week. Can you print posters on your 'puter thing?"
"Sure. Is there something else?"
"Yeah. I want to talk personal with you a minute."
"I'm listening."
Buddy continued to stare out the window. "I like you, Mr. Sayer. I reckon you
know that. I like Toni too. She's special." He turned and glared at Lance. "You
hurt her and I'll break you into tiny pieces and feed you to them carp in the
lake."
Lance jumped from his chair. "There is no call for that."
"Maybe � maybe not. You just remember what I said."
"Am I interrupting anything?" Toni asked as she entered the study.
"Naw," Buddy grinned. "We was just shootin' the bull."
Toni marched straight to Lance, put her arms around his waist and kissed his
cheek. "Thanks for the TV connection," she said. "I just hooked up my little set
and it works great. I never knew there were so many channels available."
Lance glanced at Buddy who seemed to be studying his shoes.
The big man grinned. "I know you said to run cable to the master bedroom, but I
got a good deal on the wire. While we was at it I decided to wire all the
bedrooms. They's a connection in the dining room and kitchen too."
"Looks like you have Buddy to thank."
"Whatever," she replied. "I like to watch the Tonight Show sometimes after I go
to bed." She turned to Buddy. "Have you asked him yet?"
"No. I was just getting to it."
"Lance," she said. "You've made a new man out of Buddy. He intends to go back
into the contracting business."
"Reckon I forgot how much fun it is," Buddy explained. "The thing is, it's gonna
take time to line up jobs and live down my reputation as the town drunk. Me and
Toni was thinking maybe I could be � what's the word, Toni?"
"Caretaker."
"Yeah. Maybe I could be your caretaker and look after things around here in
exchange for rent."
"Sounds like a great idea to me."
"Don't stop there, Buddy," Toni prompted.
"Yeah, well, we was wonderin' if you would let me show off the cabin to
prospective customers?"
"Sure. No problem."
"Spit it out, Buddy," Toni urged.
"Give me time, woman," Buddy said, pretending to be cross. "Lance, you remember
me and Toni once talked about plantin' Christmas trees on your farmland?"
Lance nodded.
"Well, me and Toni was wonderin' if you'd let us do it fer you? You pay the up
front costs and we'll do the work."
Lance understood why Buddy was hesitant to ask for favors just after threatening
his life. "How much up front money are we talking about?"
"Not a great deal," Toni offered. "If we plant seedlings it won't cost much at
all, but that will delay a harvest for several years. If we get two or maybe
three year old trees from a nursery, we're talking maybe fifteen thousand a
year."
"Maybe plant a little of both," Buddy added.
"What's the split?" Lance asked.
"Fifty-fifty seems fair," Buddy responded.
Lance smiled at Toni and scowled at Buddy. "I'll agree on one condition. You let
