by Randy Salem
Chris heard the door close way out front and looked up, waiting for Carol to come into the room.
"Hi," Carol said, hurrying in and dropping her purse and gloves on the desk. "I didn't hear the alarm." She smiled at Chris and blew her a kiss.
"I gather," Chris said. "But I won't scold you."
Carol went quickly to the little burner and busied herself with making coffee.
"I haven't had breakfast yet," Carol said. "Have you?"
"No," Chris admitted. "I'll treat you to a big spread on the way down." She sighed and turned away from Carol. She did not want the girl to see the weariness and the strain.
"Honey, is anything wrong? You sound awful," Carol said. She was looking at Chris with genuine concern.
"Of course not," Chris said harshly.
"Well, excuse me, lady," Carol mocked. "I didn't mean to step on your corns."
Chris got up from the chair and crossed to stand and stare out the windows. It looked so peaceful out there in the tiny yard—the cold red bricks and the bare bleak maple, an old barrel and three paint cans with pink and yellow drippings. Nothing moving. No people. No women. No noise. Quiet, like at the bottom of the sea. It would be good to feel it again, the serenity and the peace of that quiet world.
Carol carried two cups to the desk and set them down. "Coffee," she said.
Chris drew a deep breath and straightened her sagging shoulders. She stepped over to the desk but did not sit down. "Carol," she said, "how do you feel about Dizz?"
"Frankly?"
"Frankly."
"From what I can gather that she's done to you, I could very easily despise her," Carol said. "But I accept her, like sort of a necessary evil. Because, though it lolls me to admit it, I'm afraid she's got you pretty well hooked. Why did you ask?"
"You’ll meet her today. She's bringing the car around." Chris frowned. "What makes you think she's got me so well hooked?" She felt hooked. But she didn't like the idea that Carol knew it.
Carol laughed. "Are you kidding?" she said. "But seriously, darling. Just the way you look in the morning, before you get down to work. The sadness and the misery. But I can't feel too sorry for you. If you didn't like it, you would have done something about it long before this."
Chris did not answer for several minutes. "It sounds lousy," she said. She knew what Carol said was true, but it hurt to admit it.
"Can you deny it?"
"I don't want to think about it," Chris answered. "We've got work to do."
For three hours they worked. It was just a matter of getting the data in order and adding a couple of maps. There was nothing missing, absolutely nothing. They knew everything about that island. Except—
"Well," Chris said, "all we need now is a pile of Glories."
She dropped the folder on the desk and turned to beam at Carol. "Thanks, kid. You've done a good job."
"Thank you, darling," Carol said. "It's been my pleasure."
In her enthusiasm Chris stepped forward and put her hands under Carol's elbows and lifted the girl high into the air. She pulled her close and kissed her quickly on the lips.
From the doorway an amused voice solemnly breathed, "Well!"
Chris very gently lowered Carol's feet to the floor. Both turned in the direction of the voice.
"I do hope I'm not intruding," Dizz said. She was smirking broadly.
"Of course not," Chris said. "Come on in. Dizz, this is Carol Martin." She nodded toward Carol. "Carol, Sheila Dizendorf."
Dizz stood aloof, calmly observing Chris' discomfort. In a powder blue suit and short coat to match, her hair blown soft by a brisk wind and her cheeks flushed pink, Dizz had never been more beautiful, nor more perfectly composed. She was, as always, master of the situation.
Carol was the first to move. She appeared completely relaxed and she smiled warmly at Dizz, waving her to a chair. Chris knew it was all a surface calm, but she approved. Dizz had a way of making her fizzle and die out. She felt something close to admiration for Carol for keeping her poise.
"Sit down," Carol said. "I was just going to fix some coffee."
Dizz crossed to a chair and sat down stiffly. She glared at Chris. "Thank you, Miss Martin," she said.
"Please call me Carol. Though I don't know how I'll ever remember to say Sheila," Carol said. "Chris mentions you a thousand times a day, but it's always Dizz."
"Yes," Dizz said haughtily. "She has some peculiar habits."
"But I think it's adorable," Carol blurted.
"So I gather," Dizz boomed.
Chris turned her head quickly to hide the smile. She sat down on the stool and swivelled to watch the two women. She felt like she was about to see somebody tossed to the lions. And she had the uneasy feeling she would be the person.
Dizz took a key in a leather case from her pocket and dropped it on the desk. "The car's parked out front," she said to Chris. The black Thunderbird. All your gear's in the trunk. George helped me. I packed a basket of lunch and the big thermos of coffee."
Chris nodded. "Good," she said. "Did you bring my pea jacket?"
"Of course."
Carol put a cup of coffee, a container of sugar and a pint of milk on the desk beside Dizz. Then she carried a cup over to the counter.
"I hope I didn't put in too much milk," she said.
"No," Chris said. "It's fine."
Dizz raised an amused eyebrow.
Carol sat down near Dizz. Both of them looked straight ahead at Chris.
Chris shifted uncomfortably on the stool.
There was a dreadful silence in the room. Then, one by one, each found a moment's comfort in a coffee cup.
"Chris," Dizz said finally, "when shall I expect you back?"
"Monday about noon, I think," Chris said. "I plan to drive back at night. And since I have to see Jonathan at nine, I'll probably come directly here."
Chris watched Dizz glance aside at Carol. Carol was looking at Chris, smiling fondly.
"Yes," Dizz said. "I see. In that case I think I’ll stay over at home till Monday morning."
Chris had the creepy feeling that Dizz did see, all too well. She searched for words to set things right.
"And as soon as I get everything set up here, I'll rush home," Chris said. "I'm dead tired now and it'll be worse by Monday."
Dizz remained serene. "You probably won't get much sleep," she said.
Chris ran her long fingers through her hair. She wanted to reach out and shake Dizz. To knock that complacent look off her face. Bad enough to have a guilty conscience without having to stand that cold, disdainful air.
Carol stood up and picked up the folder. She opened the top drawer and slid the folder inside. She closed the drawer and turned to face Chris.
"Well, boss," she said, "if we're through for the day, I've got things to do." Her eyes were tender. She looked to Chris like somebody who'd just heaved a life line to a drowning man.
"If you want to wait a few minutes, I’ll drop you off," Chris said.
"No, thanks," Carol answered. "I've got some shopping to do downtown."
Dizz did not move. The look on her face was one of frank suspicion.
Chris helped Carol into her jacket and patted her on the shoulder. "See you Monday," she said.
Carol said her goodbyes and left the two of them alone. Neither spoke until the front door had slammed behind Carol.
"She's very attractive," Dizz said.
"Yes, she is," Chris said. "Is that what made you so friendly?" She was angry and she knew Dizz would hear it.
Dizz hesitated before she answered. Then she tilted her head and smiled that beguiling pussy cat smile. She stepped close to Chris and ran her long nails up the back of the girl's neck and into her hair. She pulled Chris' face down to her own and playfully traced the tip of Chris' nose with hers.
Chris shivered and pulled Dizz into her arms. She pressed her lips into the warm hollow of the girl's throat and with her tongue caressed it.
Dizz gasped and mov
ed tight against Chris, their thighs hugging.
"Chris," Dizz whispered hoarsely, "we're in full view of the whole world."
"Uh huh," Chris murmured. "Worried?" She knew it could be unpleasant if anyone saw them. But she was much too engrossed to care.
"Yes," Dizz said. "You work here." She moved away from Chris. "I'll be waiting for you when you get home."
"That's a promise?"
"That's a promise."
Together they put away coffee cups and closed up the office for the weekend. They went out through the display rooms and into the hall.
"Shall I drive you out to Queens?" Chris asked.
"No, honey," Dizz said. "I'm meeting my brother at his place. I’ll take a cab."
"Need any money?"
Dizz shook her head. "No. I've got plenty," she said. "And darling, I'm sorry about Carol. I've been doing some off-color thinking lately."
"You've managed to convey that impression," Chris said. "As I said, she's just a friend."
"That's a promise?"
Chris laughed. "That's a promise."
Chris hailed a cab and saw Dizz safely inside. "Monday noon," she said. She gave Dizz a kiss and shut the door.
Dizz turned to wave as Chris ran across in front of a bus and leaped for the curb.
Two minutes later Chris nosed the car into the line of traffic, then turned east toward First Avenue. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that everything was all wrong. She could not believe that they'd really put something over on Dizz. Not Dizz.
By the time she reached Seventy-second Street, Chris had already worked up a good case of nerves. This weekend with Carol would be a pleasure. But what in the name of heaven would she find when she got back home?
CHAPTER 13
It was just before nine when Chris turned off on a narrow dirt road and began following it along the edge of a small but exquisite lake. On the far side, evergreens stretched for miles in either direction and in the broad expanse only the asphalt snaking up the hill and over the top marred the perfect blanket of blue green. There were no sails on the lake now, only a few tiny yachts bobbing tiredly at anchor, waiting to be put to bed for the winter. And everywhere there was a deep contented silence.
Chris drove into a rectangle of parking lot, empty now except for the battered Ford station wagon she knew was Johnnie's, and pulled up close to the entrance. She leaned over and gently shook Carol's arm.
"Honey," she said. "We're here."
Carol smiled sleepily and put her head on Chris' shoulder. "I’ll be here in a minute," she said. She yawned and patted her mouth daintily with three fingers. "Pardon me," she said.
Chris laughed and bent her head to kiss the girl's nose.
The door on Chris' side of the car jerked violently open. "Chris, you old devil," a great voice boomed. "Good to see you."
Chris turned quickly and began pumping a hand. "Johnnie," she said happily. "How've you been?"
Carol looked past Chris to the figure beyond. Except for the lights blinking down at the pier, she might easily have mistaken it for a big black bear. It was immense, up and down and across, and more arms than anything else.
Johnnie stooped low and peered into the car at Carol. "Hi," he said, then looked at Chris. "What happened to the blonde you were living with?" He grinned at Chris. There was no malice in Johnnie, Chris knew. Just plain honesty and not too much brains.
"She's at home," Chris answered. "Shut up and make yourself useful. There are two bags in the trunk." She handed Johnnie the keys.
Chris got out and opened the door for Carol.
"Chris," Carol whispered, "what's that?"
"Johnnie?" Chris laughed. "We grew up together. We were the scourge of Sussex County."
"I can well imagine," Carol said. "Between you, you must have ruined half the girls in the state."
Chris led Carol down a path to what had once been a boat house. The better part of the building was set out over the water on stilts. Inside there was one huge living and dining room, where a fieldstone fireplace threw off heat and light, and a small lobby with a flight of wooden steps leading to the second floor.
"Johnnie's father used to build boats here," Chris said. "After he died, Johnny turned it into a fishing lodge. Does good business during the season."
Johnnie followed them in and started up the steps with the grips. "Cook's got dinner on," he said. "We saved you a couple of big lobsters."
"Fine," Chris said. She followed Carol in to stand by the fireplace.
This makes me sleepy all over again," Carol said, wiggling her fingers into the warmth.
"Never fear. We'll get to bed as soon as we've eaten," Chris said. She herself was almost asleep on her feet. And she could not afford to be tired tomorrow. She needed all the strength she could muster.
In a few minutes Johnnie came to join them. On close inspection one realized that the man was well over six feet tall and as homely a man as Chris was handsome a woman. He had a great mass of fire red hair and shockingly black eyes that never lost their good-natured smile. He looked like fun.
"Chris, you damn fool, are you going diving this time year?" he said. "I saw the stuff in the trunk.”
"Yes," Chris said. "I've done worse things.”
"Don't brag about it," Johnnie said. "Frankly, the water's been pretty rough the past week or so. Been a lot of off shore storms." He was obviously concerned.
“Look, I promise I'll be careful," Chris said.
“Just in case, kid, we still following the old rules?" Johnnie looked at Carol and winked.
Chris burst out laughing. "That's up to the lady," she said.
"What did he mean?" Carol asked when Johnnie had them to check on dinner.
“Johnnie used to get all my old girls when we were in high school. He never made out too well with that mug of his," Chris said.
"I like him," Carol said.
Chris nodded. "So do I."
All through dinner Chris kept smiling to herself. She was remembering fondly the good days when she and big Johnnie were kids. Long before they realized that there were women in the world. When there were just the two of them. Pals. Johnnie had been Chris' hero. They had had good times together.
Like the time they'd run away from home together and decided to be hoboes on the beach and live on seaweed and fish. They'd built a fire on the sand that night out of driftwood and weeds. They'd dug up a dozen clams and put them on hot rocks to bake, and Chris had taken her fishing pole and gone down to stand in the surf and cast. The next thing she knew, Chris found herself fighting the pole and being dragged out to sea. She'd yelled and big Johnnie had run and grabbed the pole away from her. It was only a small sand shark, but even big Johnnie had to fight for twenty minutes to beach him.
And Johnnie hadn't laughed at her; just asked if she was okay. It was like Johnnie was her big brother.
It had always been like that for them. Until they grew up a little. Handsome young woman Chris could get the girls ugly young man Johnnie wanted. Johnnie couldn't get anybody till Chris was finished. And then it wasn't big Johnnie anymore—then it was Chris who was boss.
Chris sighed. It had been fun to have a hero. The best thing about being a kid.
Carol let her eat in silence, knowing her thoughts were years away.
Johnnie joined them again after dinner. He was carrying a bottle of wine and three glasses.
"I saved this for you, kid, for next time you came. May wine," he said. "Nobody ever asks for it but us." He poured three glasses. "A toast. To a beautiful lady, he said, bowing to Carol.
"I thought you were off alcohol," Carol said to Chris.
"This is a special occasion," Chris answered.
"Please go easy on it."
"Right," Chris smiled.
Johnnie got up and went to the radio and turned on. some soft dance music.
"May I have the first dance?" Johnnie said to Carol, bowing from the waist. He looked like a big buffoon, but one you couldn't he
lp but love.
Carol blushed. "Certainly," she said.
Chris sat watching them. She was annoyed and, on two glasses of wine, already a little tipsy. She was annoyed with Johnnie for dancing with her girl, holding her too close and pressing his lips to the top of Carol's head. She was annoyed with Carol for enjoying it. And she was annoyed with herself for not doing something about it.
For several minutes she held back, knowing Johnnie would not dare make a pass at any girl and certainly not one who belonged to Chris. But she could not bear the way Carol relaxed against Johnnie, the way she was dancing with her eyes closed and smiling. She realized it meant nothing, no threat to her. But they looked good together and it irritated her.
She got up and went unsteadily to cut in. She put a hand heavily on Johnnie's shoulder. "Shove off, mate," she said. "I'm not dead yet."
Johnnie released the girl. "Sorry, skipper," he said. Chris took Carol in her arms and stood holding the girl tight against her. They swayed to the rhythm.
"Darling, you didn't have to be so nasty," Carol said.
"Look, you're my girl," Chris said angrily.
"You're jealous?"
"So I'm jealous," Chris said. "So what?"
Carol stepped back and looked at her. "And just how do you think I feel about Dizz? Having to lie and sneak around. Do you think I like that?"
Johnnie sat watching them.
"Keep your voice down," Chris said. "You’ll bring the fire engines." Her irritation showed in her tone. She didn't like having her private life aired in public. And at the moment even Johnnie felt like public.
Carol touched her hand. "I'm sorry, honey," she said softly. "It's just so silly for you to be jealous. You know I'm in love with you."
Chris pulled the girl close again. "Let's go upstairs,'' she said. "I've got things to say to you."
Chris settled the bill with Johnnie, in case he wasn't up when they took off. She wanted to get started early to catch low tide.
"Take my card," Johnnie said to Carol. "You might want to come back sometime."
Chris led Carol upstairs to a large wood-panelled room. The ceiling-to-floor windows faced over the lake. There was a fire in the grate and the room was warmly cozy. The blankets had been turned back on the bed.
