“I really have to go. Right now.”
“Not so fast, Suzy Homemaker.” He stood up and put his hands on my shoulders, then eased one around to cradle the nape of my neck. I couldn’t help noticing that I was dressed but he was still naked. The few boyfriends I’d had in my life, no Apollos they, had always been careful to cover themselves as quickly as I did after they relinquished the sheets. Xander pulled my face to his and kissed me again and then I didn’t have any clothes on either. After that, I showered in the copper teacup-sized tub, dressed, and scrambled down the ladder before he could talk me into another round.
When I looked back over my shoulder before I left the garage, Xander was at the atelier railing watching me go. He stood in a shaft of sunshine from the skylight that had turned his hair into a halo but wasn’t doing his face any favors. He looked completely different from below, all hollows and tendons and long afternoon shadows. How old was he, anyway? I realized then that I’d paid more attention to Frank’s lectures on movie magic than I had realized. For the first time ever I appreciated the importance of flattering angles and carefully orchestrated lighting.
I DON’T THINK I’d ever been happier to hear Mimi’s typing. It meant she hadn’t noticed I was running late. I hoped. I made an omelet and a salad faster than you could say I’ll-have-a-double-cheeseburger-with-a-side-of-fries and delivered it to her office. By the time I got there the typing was over so I knocked my lunchtime knock. Mimi must have been just inside the door because she opened it immediately.
“There you are,” she said when she took the tray. “Finally.”
Busted. “I made you eggs,” I said.
Mimi eyeballed me at length, which I only mention because she hardly ever looked at me at all. “I’ve never seen you with your hair down,” she said. “Why are you so flushed?”
Had she looked out her window and seen me running across the yard from the Dream House, giggling? “I was exercising,” I said.
“I guess that’s why your hair is wet,” she said.
“Yes. I took a shower after. I lost track of time. I’m sorry.”
Mimi stared at me so long I worried she would fire me on the spot. Had she sent me packing even yesterday I might have been excited. Getting kicked off the mountain today would have been more of a mixed bag.
“I’m so happy,” Mimi said.
I hadn’t seen that coming. “I can make you eggs more often if you like.”
“It’s not the eggs, Alice. I just got a call from Frank.”
“Oh, no. What’s wrong? Do I need to go pick him up?”
“Nothing’s wrong. He called to ask if he could stay after school. He’s made a friend, and they want to play.”
“That’s wonderful, Ms. Banning,” I said. I meant it, too. If she had been Mr. Vargas and hadn’t been holding her lunch tray, I would have hugged her.
“Isn’t it?” Mimi said. “One friend is what he needs. One friend is enough for anybody.” Mimi’s hair had grown out to a ragged pixie by then, and her face was doing something that almost suggested smiling. If you covered up the eyebrow that was growing back in white, she looked like Book Jacket Mimi again. “Alice,” she added. “Ms. Banning sounds like some mean old lady who calls the police on the neighborhood kids if they cut across her lawn. Call me Mimi.”
I was so shocked and pleased I couldn’t answer. Not that she gave me the chance. Her hands were busy with the tray so she kicked the door shut in my face.
“SO, HOW DID you meet your friend?” I asked when I picked Frank up after school. I checked him in the rearview mirror to gauge his mood. His facial expression was as inscrutable as ever, but the outfit he was wearing—a navy blazer with a gold insignia over the pocket, shirt plus cravat, captain’s hat and owlish horn-rimmed glasses—made him look as jaunty as Tony Curtis pretending to be the rich yachting guy wooing Marilyn Monroe in Some Like It Hot.
“I was indulging in one of my favorite pastimes,” Frank said, “pretending to be Captain Edward Smith on the bridge of the Titanic.”
“Ah.”
“Did you know that the Internal Revenue Service, more commonly identified by its monogram, IRS, selected April fifteenth as the date for the annual filing of personal income taxes as a tribute to all the wealthy individuals who died in that tragic event?”
“Is that true?”