by Nancy Martin
“How is it going?”
“Miserably,” he admitted, looking at his dirty hands.
“Perhaps you ought to call a plumber before you get in over your head.”
“Oh, I don’t mind getting in over my head once in a while.” He glanced up shrewdly. “Do you?”
Susannah felt her face color, and she couldn’t think of a good comeback. As a result, a short, uncomfortable silence stretched between them, during which Joe watched Susannah with a wary gaze. Apparently, he wasn’t ready to forgive her for the scene on the basement stairs earlier that morning.
Susannah summoned her composure and said, “As a matter of fact, I’m no stranger to plumbing problems. Shall I have a look?”
He looked startled. “Are you kidding? This is dirty work. Plus I’m sitting in a puddle, in case you haven’t noticed.”
She’d noticed, all right. The water made Joe’s jeans look like a second skin, and his shirt clung damply to his chest, too. But Susannah avoided looking at his chest. “Do you mind if I examine the situation?”
“Be my guest. But your clothes...”
“It will only take a moment to mop up this mess. Here. This is what I use.”
From a nearby drawer, Susannah pulled a pair of rubber gloves—the surgical kind she recommended to all her television viewers. They were available in packages of a dozen or more, and Susannah found them highly useful for all sorts of household projects. She held them up, and Joe looked at them dubiously. When he had wiped his dirty hands on the cloth she gave him, she passed him a sponge mop from the broom closet. Joe set about willingly cleaning up the water, and Susannah donned the gloves and a wraparound apron that completely covered her clothing from neck to knee. Thus protected, she knelt on the floor.
She’s a formidable woman, Joe thought as he edged out of her way, dabbing at his shirt with the cloth. He watched as the indomitable Miss Susannah Atkins peered under the sink with the air of a determined archaeologist entering a forgotten tomb for the first time. An attractive frown creased her forehead, and her blue eyes were narrowed into an intrepid squint.
“See anything?” Joe asked, hoping his voice sounded normal.
Lordy, she was attractive. More attractive than she knew, which made her even more attractive where Joe was concerned.
When she leaned into the cabinet, Joe closed his eyes and decided he wasn’t going to be swayed by her appearance anymore. She might look like the best thing to hit Tyler in years, but she was pretty heartless.
Joe couldn’t stop himself from taking a little peek, however. On her hands and knees, she was inadvertently giving him the full benefit of a view he hadn’t enjoyed before. Her backside was nicely rounded, filling out her jeans and tapering down to her slim legs. She wore a pair of white socks and no shoes again. Her feet were small and narrow, Joe noticed. He could see through the transparent gloves that her hands, bracing her weight on the kitchen floor, were perfectly manicured with short, utilitarian nails, and Joe found himself wondering how they’d feel if she touched him.
He suppressed a groan of longing.
“Can you hear me?” she asked.
“What?” Embarrassed, Joe realized she had been talking and he hadn’t heard a word.
“I said I can see the problem,” she repeated from under the sink. “You were trying to force the pipe, but actually you need a new gasket.”
“Oh, is that it?” Joe grinned wryly. He had known exactly what the problem was, but he was surprisingly pleased to hear Susannah come up with the same diagnosis he had. She was a woman of many talents.
“I don’t carry gaskets in my truck,” he said, leaning against the kitchen table. “I’ll have to drive over to Murphy’s Hardware to get one. I’ll check out the stainless steel sinks, too. Rose said she wanted a double one.”
Susannah climbed out of the cabinet, and if she guessed Joe had been taking in the scenery she displayed, she gave no hint. She caught his eye, though, and they both looked away and suddenly got busy. Joe finished mopping up, while Susannah stripped off the rubber gloves and began to tug at the strings on her apron.
But she got them tangled and gave up with an impatient sigh. “Listen,” she said, exasperated. “This is ridiculous. We’re two grown adults, but we’re acting like a couple of kids caught shoplifting or something. I’m embarrassed and you’re...well, I won’t presume to guess what you’re feeling.”
Straight out, she said, “I’m very sorry about what happened this morning. I was pretty short with you, and I recognize you were just trying to help.”
“What brought this on?”
“What?”
“You had your mind made up this morning. What changed?”
“I...nothing.” She was quite unhinged, Joe could see. Her hands were trembling, and at that moment, Susannah looked a far cry from the cool television personality she was most of the time. Sitting on the floor with grease smearing one cheek and her hair escaping the smooth style held in place by pearl combs, she looked vulnerable, embarrassed and genuinely sorry for what had transpired earlier in the day.
She also looked sweet enough to nibble.
She said, “I’m sorry for the way I reacted and for the things I said.”
“All right,” said Joe, sounding a little hoarse even to his own ears. “Apology accepted.”
She smiled slightly. “Thank you.”
“You know,” he went on, hardly believing he was about to suggest such an idea, “just to show there’s no hard feelings, I wonder if we should start all over again.”
“How’s that?”
“Well, how about having dinner with me tonight?”
Her expression relaxed. “Dinner?”
“And a movie or something. That is, unless you’re going to run off with your boss tonight.”
“No,” Susannah said. “We’re not leaving tonight. We’ve postponed our plans. But I can’t leave my grandmother. She’s just been to the doctor and I’d rather—”
“Let’s take her with us.”
Susannah laughed. “Now, that’s the suggestion of a brave man! Can you imagine the three of us—”
“Tell you what,” Joe said. “Don’t say yes or no—not until you’ve talked to your grandmother. Maybe she’d like a night out, and you and I could mend our fences.”
“Really, I...you and I could hardly have much to talk about.”
“How will we know unless we try?”
“Well...”
But she didn’t say more. She was stumped.
With the damp cloth, Joe leaned forward and touched her face. Gently he wiped away the grease on her cheek, mean-while finding her cautious, doelike gaze irresistible. Her mouth parted—ever so slightly—and she released a long, pent-up breath. Joe thought about kissing that mouth, but caught himself. He could see the same idea had occurred to Susannah—it showed plainly in her eyes.
Well, well, Joe thought. What have we here?
CHAPTER SIX
JOE LEFT within the hour, promising to return, and Susannah had only five minutes to pull herself together before her grandmother showed up with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes.
“Well?” she demanded of Susannah. “How did it go?”
“You’re the one who had the doctor’s appointment,” Susannah cried, hoping her grandmother wasn’t going to cross-examine her about Joe. She wasn’t exactly sure what had happened, but she certainly knew she didn’t want to discuss it.
Rose was not to be deflected, however. She said, “But you saw Joe again, didn’t you?”
“Only because you orchestrated a meeting that was so obvious, Granny Rose.... Oh, honestly, why are you trying so hard to force us together? We have nothing in common.”
“Nothing in—! Suzie, he finds you very attractive. And you think he’s adorable, don’t you?”
“I do not!” Susannah said hotly. “He’s simply a man you’ve hired to fix your house! He’s nothing to me! He’s—How do you know he finds me attractive?”
&
nbsp; Rose laughed heartily. “Because he said so, of course. He told me so this morning. Shall we make some cookies this afternoon? I have those extra pecans. I thought we’d whip up some tassies and put them in the freezer. What do you say?”
“I say you’re driving me crazy.”
“Good. You could use some stirring up, I think. Let’s have a quick sandwich, then get to work on the cookies.”
“Will you tell me what Dr. Phelps had to say while we work?”
“It wasn’t much,” Rose said vaguely, opening cupboards and organizing her ingredients.
But Susannah wasn’t going to be put off any longer. “Could the doctor explain why you fainted last night?”
“Oh, you know Dr. Phelps—he’s so easygoing. He joked that I’d probably had too much sherry.”
“He was making jokes? Granny Rose, when I came in here last night and saw you falling...well, it was no joking matter.”
“I know, dear. It’s just his way. Don’t get huffy.”
“Granny Rose—”
“All right, all right!” Rose gave up being evasive and faced Susannah squarely. “He said I should be faithful about taking my blood pressure medicine. He was quite adamant about that, in fact.”
“Good.” Susannah folded her arms to listen further. “What else?”
“Well...”
“Come on, you’re on a roll. Tell me everything.”
Rose sighed. When she spoke again, it was with reluctance. “Dr. Phelps thinks my condition has changed somewhat. He’d like to do some tests.”
“What kind of tests?”
“Heart tests. I don’t remember the different kinds. They all have initials instead of names—EKG, that kind of thing.”
“What does he suspect?”
“Oh, he hates to speculate until he has some concrete evidence. Doctors are so hard to pin down these days. And he didn’t want me to worry needlessly.”
“All right, when do you start the tests? Can he fit you in quickly?”
Rose turned away and began to search the cupboard shelves. “Relatively quickly. Where did I put that can of tuna? I’m in the mood for a tuna sandwich. I told him I’d like to wait until after the holidays to start taking a bunch of tests. And he agreed. It’s only a little more than a week or two, really.”
“But a lot can happen in a week or two, Granny Rose.” Susannah tried not to sound argumentative. “Especially around Christmas when you’re so busy and excited. Are you sure you should put this off?”
“I’d be miserable if I had to give up my Christmas plans—you know that, Suzie. I’ll do it in January—the day after New Year’s, I promise.”
The second of January was the best Susannah could hope for, she supposed. “And until then?” she asked. “You’re going to take care of yourself?”
“Of course, dear! I’ll pamper myself shamelessly. Now, how about some celery for a tuna salad? Will you get it out of the refrigerator, please?”
Susannah helped her grandmother in the kitchen and watched her like a hawk for signs of fatigue or lightheadedness. She wondered what the doctor had found when he examined Rose. He’d detected a change in her condition, but what kind of change? There was no use questioning Rose further, however. Susannah knew her grandmother wouldn’t say more. She was too stubborn, and too determined to enjoy her Christmas plans.
They fixed quick tuna-salad-and-lettuce sandwiches, which they ate with cups of tea. Afterward, they buckled down to the task of making cookies for Rose’s upcoming party. Susannah made sure that her grandmother got the least strenuous jobs, so Rose sat at the table and rolled the dough into balls, then pressed them into the tassie tins. Susannah bustled around the kitchen and attempted to clean up the mess as they went along.
About midafternoon, Joe Santori telephoned. Susannah picked up the receiver herself.
“How’s your grandmother?” Joe asked without preamble. He didn’t need to identify himself. What other man on the planet had such a mellifluous voice?
“Not bad,” Susannah said, amazed by the way her pulse jumped at the sound of Joe’s voice at the other end of the line. “She’s going to have some tests after the holidays.”
“Do you think it’s wise to wait?”
“I’m not the one making the decision,” Susannah said, noting that Rose was watching with an avid look in her eye.
“I see,” Joe said. “And you can’t make her see reason?”
“That’s not our style,” Susannah replied. “Have you prepared an estimate for the work you’re going to do on the house?”
“Your grandmother said she didn’t need one,” Joe retorted, then laughed. “But I’m writing up one anyway. Don’t worry, Miss Suzie. I’m not in the business of ripping off helpless little old ladies.”
“She’s not exactly helpless.”
“Amen. What does she say about dinner tonight? Would she like to come along with us?”
“I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” Susannah said, painfully aware that her grandmother was listening to every word of the conversation. “A quiet evening at home is what she needs, I think.”
“But what about you?” Joe pressed. “My guess is that you’ve had far too many quiet evenings at home, Miss Suzie.”
“Really, I can’t go out to dinner tonight. I’m here to see my grandmother, not—”
“Go!” Rose cried. “Don’t worry about me!”
“Granny Rose—”
“Is that Joe? And he wants you to have dinner with him tonight? Heavens, dear, don’t be an idiot! Go!”
In her ear, Joe was laughing. “See?” he asked. “She’s on my side!”
“Granny Rose, I can’t possibly leave you alone tonight. I’m here to visit with you, not, well—”
“You can visit with me any old time,” Rose shot back. “Besides, I don’t want to miss ‘EastEnders.’ I get it on cable, and it’s my favorite show. I was just going to go to bed after that. For heaven’s sake, you’ll be bored to death if you stay here!”
“But—”
“Don’t argue, dear. Go have a good time.”
“I can’t—”
“Don’t argue,” said Joe, adding to Susannah’s confusion. “We’ll see a movie and have a late dinner—something quick so you won’t be gone long.”
“I don’t have any clothes,” Susannah objected, weakening fast as they ganged up on her. “Just my jeans and a sweater.”
“Perfect. This isn’t Milwaukee, you know. Just Tyler. People wear what’s comfortable. See you at six-thirty?”
Susannah surrendered with a sigh. “All right. At six-thirty.”
Rose gave a whoop of pleasure as Susannah hung up. “How delightful! Oh, you’ll have fun. Isn’t Joe a charmer?”
“He’s a charmer, all right,” Susannah grumbled, surprised by her own behavior. “I can’t believe I agreed to go out with him. He’s so...different.”
“You’ll like him,” Rose promised. “Now, let’s get these cookies into the oven.”
They finished baking cookies, although Susannah found she had a hard time concentrating on the work. Her mind wandered from Joe Santori to Rose’s health and back again, so that she forgot to set the timer once and nearly burned a batch of pecan tassies.
Fortunately, they were only slightly overcooked. Rose cavalierly put them on a plate and offered the cookies to some neighbors who dropped in during the afternoon—Mrs. Connelly and her twin three-year-olds. The children were a couple of hooligans, in Susannah’s opinion, but Rose didn’t mind their noise a bit and invited them to make snowflakes by dipping bits of string into a hastily prepared starch mixture. The children were fascinated by the activity, and Susannah gradually found herself warming to them. She enjoyed herself, in fact. After she clipped the snowflakes to a string overhead to dry, she made a mental note to share the snowflake idea with her television viewers.
Late in the afternoon, when the neighbors were gone and the kitchen was cleaned up once and for all, Rose announced her plan
to go into the parlor with a cup of tea and the newspaper.
“I’m just going to put up my feet and relax for a while,” she said, toddling off toward the parlor. “Why don’t you get ready for your date, Suzie? Isn’t it getting late?”
“What time is it?”
“Nearly six.”
“Good grief!” Susannah whipped off her borrowed apron and tossed it onto a chair. “I’m so terrible about times. If it weren’t for my secretary, I’d be a walking disaster. Maybe I’d better cancel with Joe.”
“You have plenty of time,” said Rose, amused. “Remember, it was me who organized your life before you had the luxury of a secretary. Go take a bath and put on a pretty face for Joe. Don’t cancel.”
Cautiously, Susannah said, “I’d like to.”
“Why? He’s so sweet!”
“I don’t know,” she murmured uncertainly. “I just—I don’t feel safe with him, somehow.”
“Not safe? Suzie, he’s the kindest man I know!”
“It’s not that,” Susannah said quickly. “It’s... Oh, I’m not sure. I feel funny—not quite in control, I suppose.”
“What are you afraid of?”
Myself, Susannah wanted to say. She didn’t feel like herself with Joe. She didn’t feel in charge. But she plastered a smile on her face and said, “Oh, nothing. I just have a case of first-time nerves, I guess.”
“There’s only one way to get over those,” Rose said. “Plunge right in and get it over with. Now, go make yourself beautiful. Joe deserves it.”
Susannah didn’t know what Joe Santori deserved, but she found herself running a hot bath and pouring some of her grandmother’s bath salts into the water before stepping into the tub. While soaking there, Susannah smeared a marvelous cream she’d recently discovered on her face and was glad to see her skin emerge pink and smooth twenty minutes later.
“Anything to fight off the wrinkles a little longer,” she murmured to her reflection in the steamed bathroom mirror. “I’m certainly not doing this for his benefit!”
But she couldn’t imagine why she applied her makeup with extra care. After all, there was nothing in the wind between herself and Joe Santori.
