“How old are you, Nina?” he asked. When she first began working, it had been Miss Bloom, everything very correct. But back then she would never have imagined their having this conversation.
“Almost twenty.”
“Ahh,” he said, but now he didn’t even seem to be talking to her anymore. He’d turned and was looking out the window, with an expression on his face that sent a pang through Nina. Oh, she could guess what he was thinking. Feeling sorry that he wasn’t twenty or twenty-one anymore. She wished she had the nerve to tell him that he was a lot more interesting and attractive than most guys half his age. Excluding Mitch, of course!
Was it awful of her to feel sorry for him? But he had had a sad life. His wife had left him, and he missed his little daughter like anything. He was always showing Nina Mindy’s drawings and letters. He had the latest one tacked up on the bulletin board. “Dear Dady, I hat being clean, but Momy insits ever day Mindy get your hair combed. Mindy get your hair comb! Its not a free world dear Dady no its not a free world. Not free for me. When its comes to parents sometimes I get sick!!! Well so long for now dear Dady, love, Mindy Lehman.”
Sitting still at the typewriter, Nina imagined herself rising, walking to Nicholas Lehman, stroking his hair … imagined him turning to her with a grateful smile, taking her hand, holding it to his cheek … Or, no, she’d just go to him, say, “Don’t be sad … I’m sure you’ll find someone else to love.…”
“I could use a good type eraser,” she said briskly, scrabbling in the Dundee Marmalade jar that held his pens and pencils. “Or some of that instant erase tape.”
“Why don’t you pick it up, Nina? I’ll reimburse you.” He raised the venetian blind, then lowered it halfway. Silly to have anything on that window. All they could see out was feet and the bottoms of legs. Every once in a while someone’s face would appear, a curious student bending down, looking in. A wave, a grin, and they’d be off.
Nicholas Lehman stirred, crumpled the paper bag, and threw it across the room into the wastebasket.
“Hey, yay!” Nina clapped.
His blue eyes gleamed, his face brightened. He crumpled a piece of paper, took aim, threw. The paper fell neatly into the basket. “Want to see me do that again?” His face was rosy, like a boy’s.
“Sure. Anytime.”
“Can I be on your team?”
“Sure. Anytime.”
They were flirting. She was flirting; so was he. Her face was warm; she couldn’t stop smiling. The way he was looking at her … and his eyes were so blue. They were like blue lights. He lit his pipe, looking at her over the stem. When she began typing again, her hands were moist.
Chapter Fourteen
Sunday morning Nina and Mitch planned to get up early in order to clean up some of the accumulated debris in their place before their guests arrived. But the room was cold—they could see their breath puffing into the air—and they huddled down into the blankets. “I bet that cheap landlord has got the heat off again,” Mitch said. In the hall they heard someone yelling about complaining to the mayor’s office. “Go to it,” Mitch yelled between cupped hands.
Nina rubbed her nose against his shoulder. “Do you think we bought enough rolls? Darn! I just remembered—we’re out of jam.”
“Let them eat butter. Stop worrying, Nins.”
“Well … our first company. It’s important. I’m excited. Aren’t you excited, Mitch?”
“Yeah, sure I am,” he admitted.
“Should we wash the tub?”
“What for? We invited them to brunch, not to take a bath.”
“Funny. But we’ve got ring around the tub.”
“Pull the shower curtain. Better clean the catbox, though. You can smell that.”
“I know, and the garbage should go out. Talk about smells!”
“Catbox, you. Garbage, me.”
“Deal. Should we get up, then?”
“Nice day to stay in bed. Too bad they’re coming.…”
“You don’t really mind?” Nina sat up anxiously.
“Listen, as long as they eat my Hawaiian rice …”
She sprawled over him to look at the clock. “Oh, gosh, we don’t have that much time left. We really better roll out, Mitch.”
“Let’s fool around a little first.”
Nina shook her head, trying to look stern.
“Just a little?” he coaxed.
When they finally got up they barely had time to make the bed and get the food started before everybody arrived.
“It’s like the North Pole in here.” Lynell had her flute case under her arm. “I was going to serenade you two, but I don’t think so. My fingers might fall off.”
“The landlord doesn’t believe in spoiling us with heat,” Mitch said. “Hello, Lynell. Welcome to our humble abode. Do you drag that flute everywhere?”
“Oh, me and my flute are inseparable. Did you ever think, people, how much superior a flute is to a man? Flute never gives orders, lies in its little velvet bed waiting for you … And when you say, ‘Make music, flute,’ you just blow a little, and presto, music.”
Mitch laughed and hugged her. That set the tone. Nina hugged D.G., Adam kissed Sonia, and then they all switched around.
“Who’d I miss?” Sonia said. She took Mitch’s head between her hands and kissed him on the mouth. “You look great. Living with Nina must be good for you.”
“Nina, this place literally smells fantastic. What are you cooking?” D.G. sat down in the brown velvet chair and pulled Sonia onto his lap. “Guys, this place is cozy,” he said. “Very, very cozy.”
“Well, we’ve hardly fixed it up,” Nina began modestly, but no one would hear a word of it. They insisted the place looked marvelous. Nina had covered the windowsills with plants, and she and Mitch had both tacked up pictures of their families on the wall. They also now had an official “couch”—Nina’s old cot, covered with a blanket.
“How’s your new roommate?” Mitch asked.
“Helen’s okay,” Lynell said. “No trouble, except when she and Sonia want to practice at the same time.” Lynell and Sonia looked at each other and laughed. “Nina,” Lynell went on, “Emmett looks fatter than ever. Is it possible?”
Sonia scooped up. Emmett. “Missed you, baby. Next to my Heidi, I love you most. Adam, ever see such a big cat? How much does he weigh, Nina?”
“I don’t know exactly. Sixteen or seventeen pounds, I think.”
“Is there a Weight Watchers for cats?” Lynell asked, looking at Mitch.
Adam stroked Emmett with long fingers. “A beautiful cat, Nina.” Adam, befitting his princely appearance, was wearing a gray silk vest. “I like him.”
“Eh, he’s such a beggar,” Mitch said. “Every time Nina gives him food he purrs like a machine. And she thinks that he loves her for herself.”
“He does,” Nina said.
“It’s not wrong that he loves her for feeding him,” Adam said. “I’m sure he loves Nina for other things, too.”
Well, that was nice. Nina wondered why her opinion of Adam had been so negative. Really, she hardly knew the guy. Unfairly—she saw now—she had concluded that he was irresponsible and low-down because he was caught in a sticky situation between Lynell and the Michigan girl friend. Why hadn’t she realized that maybe he was just a sensitive person who dreaded hurting either Lynell or the other girl, and had got himself into this tight spot without meaning any harm?
“Lynell, you really don’t like this cat?” he said. He looked at her, sort of pleadingly, Nina thought. She wished Lynell would look back with more warmth, but in a moment realized the two of them were having a fight. Oh! Now she understood the bit about the flute being better than a man. That had been meant for Adam. Too bad that they were fighting. It was much nicer the way Sonia and D.G. were hanging on each other. Maybe seeing them, plus how happy she and Mitch were, would inspire Adam and Lynell to make up.
“Look what we’ve got.” Mitch brought out a bottle of pink champagne.
/>
“I’ll get swacked if I drink before I eat,” Sonia said.
“Go ahead! Get swacked,” D.G. said. “You’re funny when you get swacked.”
“Let’s toast Nina and Mitch.”
They clinked glasses. Adam made the toast, something about a “fine young couple,” that was either half sardonic or totally sincere. Sincere, Nina decided, smiling at him and finishing her champagne. It was a little sharp, but warmed her from the stomach outward in one lovely glow.
“More, please.” She held out her glass.
“Nina, you can’t get swacked, you have to cook.”
“Not me. Mitch is chief cook around here.”
“Cookie, I’m getting hungry. Where’s the chow?”
“One more glass of champagne …”
When the food was ready, Nina and Mitch brought everything out on a big tray. “Let’s eat it while it’s hot,” Mitch said.
“What is it?” Lynell said.
“An adventure in eating,” Nina said. “Hawaiian rice. You gotta be brave.”
The room seemed to have become even colder. “My ears are warm,” D.G. said, “but my feet are freezing, people.”
“The only warm place is in bed,” Mitch said ruefully.
“Breakfast in bed?” Sonia said. “Super idea.”
In a minute it was arranged. They put the tray in the center of the bed, then arranged themselves around it, tucking blankets over their legs and feet. Sonia wound her pink scarf around her neck. Nina finished her champagne and put on an old green fur-lined hat her grandmother had bought at a thrift shop years ago. It had fur earlaps and strings that tied under her chin.
“That is an incredible hat,” Lynell said, staring.
“Nina looks like Radar in M*A*S*H,” Sonia said.
“Cute.” Adam gave her a warm smile.
“All you need are the glasses, Nina, and you could try out for the show.” Sonia was sitting between D.G. and Adam. “Come closer, you two, keep me warm. Oh, heavens, this is better than bundling.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Mitch said.
Sonia clapped her hands. “I’m happy. I’m definitely happy right now.”
“Oh … right now,” Lynell said. She picked up her flute and blew a few notes. “That’s the easy part. How about later? How about tomorrow?”
“‘Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow,’” Sonia said grandly, holding out her glass for a refill. “Who knows about tomorrow? Who cares?”
“Anyway, what is happiness?” Mitch said.
“You and me!” Nina put her arm around Mitch. They all wriggled and snuggled closer. They held their plates on their laps and ate fast. The Hawaiian rice disappeared, and the basket of rolls, and a bowl of frosted cookies.
“This is a wonderful party, Nina and Mitchell,” D.G. said. “I feel huppy, too. Happy,” he corrected himself. “I’m getting stoned, people. I didn’t think anyone literally got stoned on pink champagne.”
“D.G.,” Sonia said, “do you think you could not say literally for about half an hour and make me huppy?”
“Can try.” D.G. covered his head with his arms and winked at Nina.
The whole idea of the six of them on the same bed—half in bed—struck Nina as incredibly sophisticated. Of course, nothing out of the way was going to happen, but all the same, it was a lot more interesting than if they’d been sitting around a table. Something had changed the moment they got on the bed. Some invisible barrier had gone down, and the amount of wine and champagne they were consuming didn’t hurt, either. They were all talking in loud voices, interrupting each other, laughing at everything, and making as many jokes as possible.
“Adam, your feet are delicious and toasty,” Sonia said. “D.G., darling, why do you have such damp feet all the time? I would like you to have hot, toasty feet.”
“Cold feet, hot blood. Right, Lynell?” He squeezed the tall girl.
“Right, Donald George.”
Sonia giggled. “Oh, oh, oh! You said it! You said it, Lynell. You said his name.”
“Donald George, you don’t like your name?” Lynell said innocently.
“I refuse to answer. I will literally ignore that comment. I repeat, Cold feet, hot blood.”
“Old Croatian saying,” Mitch said. “Man with cold feet has hot blood. Woman with cold feet better watch out.”
“Oh, men!” That was Sonia. They were all laughing. It was silly time. Bashfully Nina made a joke, too. “You mean, Sonia, ah, men?” To her delight, that also got a laugh.
“That’s my girl.” Mitch held her hand up like a winning fighter.
Lynell took Nina’s other hand. “Stick with us womens, little Nina, and you’ll get further.” Meant for Adam, of course. Of the three couples, only he and Lynell weren’t sitting next to each other.
“She might get further,” Mitch said, “but she won’t have as much fun.”
“Touché.” Lynell reached across Nina and fed Mitch the last piece of her strawberry shortcake. He pretended to bite her fingers.
“Touché—isn’t that what you Jewish people call your behinds?” D.G. said to Sonia.
“D.G.!” Sonia bumped him with her shoulder. “How come you’ve known me so long and you’re still so ignorant? Tushy, D.G., tushy, as in my best friend in high school saying, ‘Sonia, you have got a fat tushy.’”
“This conversation is literally getting out of hand.”
“Oh, literally, my arse,” Mitch said.
“No, literally your touché,” Lynell said.
Mitch laughed, and reached across Nina to rub Lynell’s head. “Hasn’t this happened before?” Nina said.
“You’re cute,” Mitch said. Nina thought he meant her.
“No one has ever called me cute,” Lynell said. “I don’t think cute is my style.”
“You are cute,” Mitch insisted, talking across Nina.
She leaned back. “Go on, you two, enjoy yourselves. Don’t let me get in your way.”
“Oh, oh, Mitch, watch yourself, somebody is getting mad at somebody else,” D.G. said.
“Nina’s not mad at me. Nina never gets mad at me.” He kissed her lightly, then with more pressure. They put their arms around each other and kissed. The others watching them, laughing and applauding, somehow made the kiss even more exciting. A warm current seemed to pass through them all. D.G. leaned toward Lynell. Sonia put her arms around Adam.
And Nina, sitting next to Mitch, her lips still warm from his mouth, found herself thinking about the other two guys.… Just looking at them and wondering … All three guys were so different. Mitch, nearly as tall as Adam, but sort of soft and sweet looking, despite being skinny. He had a little ring of fat around his waist. His baby fat, Nina teased. Adam was fatless, all long bones. And D.G. was chunky, muscular, more like a short football player than a Wall Street millionaire-to-be.
Nina smiled. Her mind was free and floating. Adam winked at her. She winked back. Wink … wink … Every man is a lover, she thought wisely. “D.G.—” She winked at him. Wink … wink … Mitch’s turn. No playing favorites. Wink … wink … She giggled. “Guys, I’m swacked,” she said, and suddenly flopped over, half asleep, into Mitch’s lap.
Chapter Fifteen
Nina went home for Christmas. Had to. Either that or come clean with her family. Tell all. Sorry, folks, can’t make it home because I don’t want to leave Mitch. He’s got kinda used to me being around…. Which, in fact, was one of the things he’d said when they were talking over the pros and cons of Nina’s going home over the holidays. “I’m going to hate being alone.”
“How about me?” she said.
“No, you’ll be with your family. It won’t be so bad for you.” Mitch’s family was scattered all over. His father had been teaching in Hawaii the past year, his mother, stepfather, and brother, Robert, were on vacation in England, and his sister, Trissy, was out in Oregon at Reed College.
“I’ll miss you, though,” Nina said.
“I’ll miss you more. I’l
l have more time to miss you.”
Again Nina considered coming up with some reason why she couldn’t make it back home for Christmas. But she wanted to go home, wanted to see everyone. To be truthful, she hadn’t missed them that much—most days passed without her thinking of her family at all—still, something was pulling her home.
“You know, I didn’t go for Thanksgiving.” Did she have to sound so apologetic? “They expect me,” she added more briskly.
“Oh, I know,” Mitch said glumly.
“You could come with me.”
“Can I sleep in your bed?”
“Fat chance. You couldn’t even sneak in. Nancy and I sleep in the same room.”
“Yeah, yeah; you told me that.”
“Okay, sorry.” Were they going to fight now? Did he have to look so downcast? “It’s only for a week.”
“Closer to two weeks.”
“Eleven days. That’s not so long. Come on, now,” she coaxed. “Be nice.” She kissed him and pulled his ears and kissed him again and again until she got him to smile.
Being home was strange. It was good … and it was strange. “Gee, it’s just the same,” Nina said, walking from room to room. What had she expected? Was it that she herself felt so changed that she had thought her family would also be changed? But there was her father in the same slippers and baggy green work pants, still absorbed in the African violets he grew under purple lights in the kitchen. And there was her mother: the familiar, weary sweetness of her mouth; her rare smile. Her mother’s eyes drew Nina: how dark they were! Reminiscently, Nina’s own eyes lingered on the soft, dark pouches of skin beneath Shirley Bloom’s eyes. As a small child Nina had loved to touch her mother’s face, touch especially those dark, dark patches of skin.
“It’s so nice to have you home again,” her mother said almost shyly. “Just one person going out of the house makes such a difference. It felt empty for weeks.”
“I didn’t take up that much room, Ma!”
“Oh, Nina, I didn’t say you did.”
“Ma!” Nina hugged her. “You’re as bad as me. I’m so naive. I never know when people are teasing me.”
Someone to Love Page 9
