Moving In

by Alice Audrey

  “Is that right?” Trigvey grinned.

  “I don’t want to push—” Miranda started, though she didn’t seem the least bit repentant as she looked him up and down.

  He gave the towel around his waist a hitch.

  “Pft!” Diane crossed her arms and cocked a hip, glaring at Miranda.

  “I thought maybe we could help you move in,” Miranda continued with a smile.

  “That won’t be necessary.” Trigvey glanced around.

  The more he thought about it, the more overwhelmed he felt. He could hardly unpack his clothes into a non-existent dresser. There were no shelves for his medical books. A couple of boxes, the ones with things like his baseball glove from high school, his diploma and his debate trophies, were never going to be unpacked at all. He had to go shopping, but just thinking about it made him tired.

  “I’m really sorry.” Diane kept her eyes on his face. “I know you have a lot to do today.”

  “Come with me,” he interrupted. She looked startled, so he talked fast. “I need an interior decorator. I don’t suppose I could hire you to help me pick furniture?”

  “No, you can’t hire me,” said Diane, with a vexed wrinkle on her brow.

  Miranda perked up, eyes gleaming. “Furniture shopping?”

  “But I’m willing to go as a friend,” Diane finished.

  “Great. Just give me a chance to clean up a bit,” he said and gestured to his face. “And I’ll be right down.”

  He finished shaving while the ladies excused themselves. The thought of Diane’s flushed cheeks made him feel more light-hearted as he dressed. Better yet, Miranda wasn’t there when he reached Diane’s apartment.

  “The traitor ran away,” said Diane. “I’m sorry. She’s turning into an obnoxious matchmaker.”

  “Quite all right,” Trigvey assured her. “I really do need the help.” He looked around her apartment and took in the homey ambiance.

  There was a magazine in her hand. “Where did you want to go?” she asked.

  “I’m open to suggestions.” Was she picking up? For him? He moved a step closer and enjoyed her presence.

  Her hair was mussed. Not bed-head mussed, just nervous fingers disorderly. It looked good on her. Her eyes grew dark, as though she’d suddenly become aware of him.

  She looked away quickly. “It depends on what you’re looking for. We could go for something like Rubins, which can be a bit pricy, or A1-furniture, which is more like a warehouse.”

  “I want something like this,” He gestured toward her living room with its oriental rug and inviting seating arrangement all gilded by mid-morning sun coming through the windows.

  “Oh, well. It took me a while to collect all this.” She bit her lip, puzzling over his problem. “But we could try Don’s Home Furniture out on the Beltline.”

  “Beltline it is.”

  She bustled around, collecting purse and keys, and changing shoes. At first he watched her simply because she was moving. But he gradually noticed the appeal of her motions, the simple elegance in the way she held her hands or reached for things and the arch in her eyebrows.

  When they were almost to his car, he said, “Where’s the Beltline?”

  “It’s on the South side.” She headed for a T-Bird across the street.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “Aren’t you driving?”

  He waved to the Nissan Cube sitting at the curb. “Yes. Let’s take my car.”

  Her jaw dropped. She looked from him to his newly purchased vehicle, then to the vintage T-bird he’d admired with its owner when he first moved in, then back to him.

  He laughed. “You thought the T-bird was mine?” He shook his head. The owner had left him leaning against it. Her mistake was natural. He grinned anyway. “This one is mine. It was parked down the street when I moved in.”

  “Oh.” Her chin came up. Her back straightened, and she marched over to the passenger side of his Cube. She might act as if she weren’t embarrassed, but her cheeks were flushed a nice shade of pink. “So, do you know where to go?”

  “Nope, you better tell me,” he said.

  Her eyes sparked wickedly. “Gladly.”

  He hid a grin as she directed hin toward East Washington Street. “You sent me this way solely so I could enjoy the view of the State Capital,” he said.

  The big white building sat on the highest hill around. The thing loomed over everyone. She even made him brave the one-way streets running around the edges of it before she sent him back down East Washington to catch John Nolan Drive.

  On John Nolan she leaned across him with her hand on his right shoulder to point out the flat, blue expanse of Lake Monona. The road had four lanes of fast traffic. It could have been bad, but she quickly straightened and pointed to a smaller expanse of water and some trees to the right before she started talking about a zoo.

  She was so exuberant, she made him feel like grinning. By the time they arrived at the furniture store, he was smiling.

  She led the way in, flung herself onto a bed, and looked up at him. “How about this one?”

  “It looks good.”

  “Try it.”

  To his disappointment, she got off as he climbed on. Not that he had any business sharing a bed with her for even a moment. She was the keeper type, and he wasn’t. A man who was never home didn’t count as a keeper.

  She flagged down a clerk. “Can we have this one delivered today?”

  The short man with a carefully clipped mustache glanced at his clipboard. “This is a demo model. You’ll have to order it. We can have the bed in as soon as next week.”

  “Next week? That isn’t soon enough. Is it, Trigvey?” She turned from the clerk to Trigvey. “You need a bed you can sleep on tonight.”

  Her sofa wasn’t up for grabs. He couldn’t say he blamed her.

  “I need something for tonight,” he said to the clerk as he rolled off the bed. “Is there another model available?”

  The clerk shook his head regretfully. “I can’t do anything for you. One of our delivery men is sick and work is already backlogged from the sale that just ended. I’m pushing things to get it to you. We don’t have any loaners.”

  “How about a mattress?”

  “A mattress,” said the clerk. “Do you have a way to get it home?”

  Trigvey pulled out his credit card. “Sure.”

  ****

  “You’re kidding.” Diane hesitated before she caught the rope he tossed over the car roof.

  Trigvey admired her dexterity. He paused, not quite staring her down. “Got a better idea?”

  “No, I don’t.” She hastily passed the rope back through the Cube’s open window.

  He had the mattress trussed to the roof of the car in record time. It hung over the edges all the way around, dwarfing his fuel-efficient beast.

  She eyed it dubiously. “Are you sure it’ll hold?”

  Trigvey joined her on the passenger side. He tied off one last knot, tested the rope, eyed it from a couple of angles, and ran a few scenarios through his head. “It’ll hold.”

  Diane fingered the rope. “That’s an excellent knot.”

  “I’ve tied a few before. You should try this on an artery.”

  “I’ll pass.”

  “Squeamish?”

  “Me? Oh no. No, no. Nothing like that.” She shook her head vehemently.

  “Come on. Get in.” He gestured to the window.

  She grabbed the handle and pulled. The ropes groaned in protest, but the door didn’t budge.

  “Would you like some help?”

  She gave him the fish eye.

  “Just as well.” He hid a grin. “I’ll go first. It’ll be easier for me to crawl across to get behind the steering wheel than trying to go in through the driver’s window.”

  He waited for her to protest. Instead, she stepped back, waving grandly toward the car. He grabbed the rope toward the middle of the roof and used it to lever himself up, going through
the window feet first.

  “All right. Your turn.”

  She hesitated long enough to make him start to feel bad. What was he doing, pushing her to act crazy? But before he could apologize, she stuck one foot through the window.

  It wriggled around tentatively. She pulled the foot back, stuck in the other one, hopped awkwardly a couple of times, and generally gave him the feeling she’d never done anything like this before.

  He held out a hand, gallantly fighting down the laughter. “Do you need help?”

  “Nope. I’m fine.” She jammed her hand straight out, probably grabbing the top of the car under the mattress for leverage. She wriggled forward, hopping along until the one leg was in up to the crotch, but when she tried to lift the second leg into the window, she slipped. Just when he seriously thought he was going to have to untie the mattress and find an alternative, she got the other leg in.

  Instead of simply sliding in face up, she twisted around so she stared at the parking lot and he stared at her. He had no idea what she could have been thinking. When she had rolled, her bottom had come the rest of the way in, but then she collapsed over the door, head and arms hanging out of his sight on the outside of the car, and couldn’t seem to get back up.

  “You aren’t looking at me, are you?”

  He blinked. “Of course not.”

  “You are! I knew it! Stop right now!” She wiggled and wriggled, bumped up against the headrest and the dash and fell forward, losing ground. Not that there wasn’t enough room, though she’d probably disagree, just that she couldn’t seem to get coordinated.

  He lifted his hands, but was afraid to apply them to the part of her anatomy that needed assistance.

  “Stop laughing!” she said.

  It was a good thing she laughed first.

  “I’m not laughing,” he said.

  She finally got her feet un-wedged from the dash and the space between the seats. Then it was a simple matter to draw her head into the car. Diane sat upright and couldn’t stop giggling.

  Trigvey leaned over the steering wheel and laughed right along with her.

  Her cheeks were rosy, but she was no longer out of control. “I’m so embarrassed.”

  “I’m a doctor. There isn’t a part of the human body I haven’t seen inside and out.”

  “You were looking—I knew it!”

  Six lanes of heavy traffic with on ramps every couple of miles and people constantly changing lanes stood between him and home. It was like being back in Chicago. Only this time he had a mattress on his roof. It made the car do strange shimmies.

  “I’m hungry,” he said finally. “What time is it?”

  Diane lifted her arm. “I don’t wear a watch.”

  “Read mine.” Trigvey stuck his arm out, wrist turned.

  “Almost two o’clock,” she said. “We missed lunch.”

  “Let’s stop somewhere.”

  “We can’t. The South Side is so rough we’d come out with nothing but a hubcap. I’m in the mood for Dotty Dumplings, but they take too long and there’s nowhere to park with this thing on the roof.”

  “Complain, complain.” Trigvey glanced at Diane and abruptly pulled into a fast food drive-thru.

  The cashier at the first window gave them a funny look.

  “What do you want to bet the guy at the next window will laugh at us?” asked Diane. She flicked a hand at the cashier and gave Trigvey a half-smile.

  Trigvey saw an opportunity to get together again in the future. “I’ll bet you dinner the guy won’t notice a thing.”

  “You’re on.”

  The guy at the next window turned out to be a girl who not only laughed, but took pictures. Trigvey posed for the camera, though the girl aimed her camera at the mattress rather than him.

  “You lost that bet on purpose,” Diane said.

  “Maybe.” Trigvey tried hard to keep the triumphant grin off his face, but could still feel it in his cheeks. “Hey, I’m going to need a little help here.”

  “Help?”

  “Could you hold my burger in front of my face? I don’t want to take my hands off the steering wheel.” He pulled out of the drive-thru lane into a grocery store parking lot.

  “You want me to feed you?”

  “I’m hungry!”

  “You’re like a little boy.” She unwrapped his burger in brisk motions, but instead of cramming it in his mouth, she carefully and gently held the burger up for him.

  He took a bite, and got sauce on his lip. When she touched a napkin to him, he almost veered into a parked car, and not just because she’d startled him. “I’d better pull over.”

  Diane picked at her burger, eyes intent on the pickle. “I was having fun.”

  He pulled into a space facing the road and stopped. “Do you have any idea what would have happened to us if I hadn’t?”

  She shrugged and continued staring down at her food, paying him no particular attention.

  Trigvey took the burger from her, put it on the dashboard, and pulled her into his arms.

  “Imagine where the car would have gone when I did this—”

  He kissed her.

  ****

  Diane could hardly believe it. She’d felt the connection and part of her wanted more, but she knew better than to expect anything.

  At first it was only a brush of lips against lips, hardly more than a tickling. Then he leaned further across the gap between seats and angled his head. The kiss flared into something far less timid. Diane opened to him and lost track of herself.

  She breathed through him, never breaking contact, entirely focused on the sensation of tongues and lips. It was like a fairy tale. This was exactly the kind of kiss she had always wanted. Except that they only touched at the mouth and where his hands held her head.

  Someone driving by leaned on their horn. A bicycle coasted close, the clicking of its sprockets making Diane blink.

  Trigvey collapsed into his seat and stared at the odometer as if it might change while they sat there.

  “Sorry.” The word came out clipped and quiet. “Didn’t mean to do that.”

  “It’s all right,” she muttered, staring at the glove compartment.

  “Look, Diane,” He ran his hand over the top of his head, in no way straightening his hair. “I don’t want you to think….”

  She waited, but he didn’t finish his sentence.

  “Think what? That you’re madly in love with me? That this could go somewhere at any moment? That it meant something?” She forced out a dry laugh. “Don’t worry. It hasn’t been long enough.”

  “I don’t want you to think you aren’t safe with me.”

  Was she? He came across as a kind, reliable, generous man, but sometimes it seemed like there was a cloud hanging over him. She shifted uncomfortably. It wasn’t like either of them had done anything wrong. A little intense maybe, but not wrong.

  She cleared her throat, “We should go home.”

  He put the car in gear. “Good idea.”

  Chapter Five

  Trigvey gave the mattress one last shove to get it through his door. Somewhere on the other side Diane squeaked.

  “You all right?” he called.

  The mattress jerked forward and tumbled into his bedroom.

  “That was a royal pain. Hope you get good use of it,” Diane muttered as she leaned against the wall, doubled over and breathing hard.

  Trigvey rested against the door, arms crossed to hide his own deep breathing. He wasn’t sure what perverse part of him wanted to look cool in front of her.

  “I still need to get sheets, glasses, and such.” Trigvey stared at his fancy new mattress lying on the floor.

  It looked lonely there, with nothing but an open suitcase to keep it company. Left to his own devices, he knew it would stay exactly like that until someone interceded for him. Even if he hired an interior decorator, the way he had in Chicago, the results wouldn’t feel like home. Not that he deserved one when he couldn’t invest the time in
to making it himself.

  If he’d had a chair, he’d have slumped into it. Though the sun would still be up for a few hours, he was exhausted. “I don’t suppose I could hire you to get them for me? Don’t get mad. I’m offering money because I need you. It isn’t fair to ask you to do it for free when we aren’t….” He waved his hands, looking for the right word.

  Diane flushed and straightened. “I think you should pick them for yourself. They’ll have more meaning that way.”

  “But I don’t care if they have meaning. I only need enough to get by. At best, I would like it to be just like what you have.”

  “I’m really not an interior decorator.” One foot moved to the side. She eyed the open doorway beside him as if planning her escape, leaned toward him, then away.

  “I know.”

  She eased past him. “I’ll think about it. In the meanwhile, I have laundry to do.”

  Trigvey followed her out into the hall. He wanted to stop her, but he wasn’t willing to give up his dignity in the process. “I’ll see you at supper then. Which restaurant did you want me to take you to?”

  “Um… about that.” She stopped at the top of the stairs and stared at her shoes. “It wasn’t really a serious bet, was it?” Her gaze flicked his direction, then away. “We don’t really need to go out.”

  “Not go out?” Trigvey felt like someone was irrigating his bowels with ether. Had kissing her been such a transgression?

  “I should go.”

  Apparently it was.

  ****

  Idiot! Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why did she do this to herself every time a good man showed interest in her?

  Diane fled to her apartment, moving down the stairs too fast, and clutching the railing. With the way she felt, she was bound to miss a step and fall. Her breathing was too hard, and her throat felt raw, though she wasn’t about to cry. When she turned her doorknob, her hands shook.

  What if he was serious? What if he really liked her?

  What if he was a player and she just happened to look like a nice side dish? One who would cook and clean and be all housewifely until a career woman came along. Wasn’t that what happened to her mother over and over again? Man after man used, then left her.