4. The Piano Tuner

Diana was in the kitchen when she heard the doorbell ring. Doorbell? Who needs to ring the doorbell? Did somebody lock the front door by mistake? She set her wooden spoon on the counter, next to the bowl of cookie dough, and walked toward the front of the hotel, through the dining room and the lounge, where Herbert and Will were shooting pool, and on to the lobby. Sure enough, a man stood outside the screen door, with a tool box on the verandah beside him. A large tool box. A tall man. A tall, good-looking man with an unsure smile on his face. An endearing smile.

Diana opened the screen door. “Would you like to come in?” she said.

The good-looking man picked up his tool box and stepped inside the lobby, still smiling. “Nice and cool in here,” he said. He wore a Hawaiian shirt and Madras plaid Bermuda shorts. “Hot outside, I’ll tell ya. Here it is almost fall, and it feels like the middle of summer.” Also tennis shoes, no socks.

“Set your box down and have a seat,” Diana said. “I’ll bring you a glass of water. Or would you like some iced tea? Hey, I know what, I’ll make us some lemonade.”

“Maybe later, when I finish. I should get started. Show me to the patient.”

“Patient?”

The man set down the toolbox and scratched his head. “You are expecting me, right? I’m Casey. The piano tuner? And this is Hope Springs?”

“Piano tuner?” Diana felt the blush rush to her cheeks. “Aw shit. Shoot. I sound like some dumb echo, huh? I mean I didn’t know we were expecting a piano tuner. Are we? Are you sure I can’t make you some lemonade?”

“No thanks. Well, I was sent here by Nellie Hope. She owns this place, right?”

“Sort of.”

“Well, she wants her piano tuned. Steinway grand, she said. She paid me in advance, so if you’ll lead me to the instrument, I’ll get started.”

Diana smiled. “Right this way.” She led him down the long hall and into the lounge. “There she is.”

“She’s a beauty, all right,” Casey said. Then he turned to Will and Herbert on the other side of the lounge. “Are you guys anywhere near done with your game?”

“You want winners?” Will asked.

“I need silence, I’m sorry to say.”

Herbert said, “Just a sec.” He sighted down his cue and sank the eight ball. “Game. Will, my man, let’s get back to work.” They put their cues in the rack on the wall and shuffled out of the lounge.

Casey asked Diana, “Are those guys brothers? And are you their sister or something? I mean, you’re all dressed in yellow. Not that I’m any expert on style, but hey.”

“We all wear yellow. All of us who live here.” Diana pulled at the hem of her yellow tee shirt.

“Another question, and then I’ll tune this handsome beast.” He gave her a bright smile. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Diana. Diana Pearson. And I’m making cookies. I hope you like chocolate chip.”

———

Casey sat down on the piano bench and uncovered the keyboard. He played a few scales. Ouch. Well, Nellie had told him the piano probably hadn’t been tuned in over ten years. It was amazing it didn’t sound a whole lot worse. He stood up and lifted the lid and propped it open. No missing strings, no missing felts. Good.

He got busy with tuning fork, hammer, and mutes, and got lost in his work. A couple of hours later he closed the piano lid, sat back down on the bench, and played “Chopsticks.” Okay. More like it. “Here’s That Rainy Day,” in C, E-flat, F, D, and G.

God, what a fine instrument. Casey was falling in love. He stood up, laced his fingers together over his head, and stretched. And decided it was time for a smoke before his long drive back to L.A. He walked through the hotel to the front door, stepped out, and saw a woman sitting in an Adirondack chair on the verandah. She looked up at him and smiled. She wore a plain yellow smock, and Casey guessed she was in her late forties. To be exact, he had a strong hunch this woman would turn forty-nine on the equinox, just a couple of weeks away.

“Hello,” she said. “You’re the piano tuner.”

“I am. And you, I believe, are Karen Hope. Nellie’s sister?”

Karen nodded. “Identical twins, entirely different.”

Casey took a Sucrets box out of his pocket and asked, “Is it okay if I smoke here?”

Karen stood up and pointed across the driveway to a bridge that stretched over the creek. “That’s our smoking bridge. It’s the only place on the property that people are allowed to smoke.”

“Well, if you’ll excuse me—”

“Tobacco?” Karen asked.

Casey grinned. “Nope.”

“Mind if I join you?”

Karen took his hand as they strolled down the path to the smoking bridge. On the bridge they sat on the bench, and Casey fired up a joint from his Sucrets box. He inhaled and held in the smoke while he offered the joint to Karen.

Karen partook. They passed the joint back and forth a few times, until Karen waved a signal that she’d had plenty, and Casey dropped the burning roach over the rail of the bridge to the sulfury stream below.

“You do look like your sister,” he told her. “Except for the straight hair and the yellow dress, and you wear a lot less makeup. Which is just fine, by the way.”

“Nellie and I are different in every conceivable way. We can’t stand each other, actually, but we have one thing in common. We both hate our older brother. What a little shit he is. So. Nellie tells me she met you at a party in Malibu.”

Casey said, “That’s right. Couple of weeks ago.”

“She says she took you home with her. A one-night stand, I understand.”

“By mutual agreement,” Casey pointed out. “No hard feelings.”

“I suppose not. Nellie’s had more than her share of handsome piano players, just as I expect you’ve had more than your share of one-night stands with rich old sluts.”

All right, Casey thought. Enough. He stood up and said, “I’d best be going.”

Karen laughed. “I didn’t mean that in an unkind way,” she said. “Come on, play me something on the piano. Just one song, okay?” She stood up. “Please?”

“Sure,” Casey said, and they strolled back to the hotel.

In the lounge, Casey sat back down on the bench and played a few chords before launching into “The Lady Is a Tramp.”

Karen gave him a nod and a wink. “Touché,” she said.

Halfway through the second chorus, Diana walked in from the kitchen and laid a plate of cookies on the piano. She began singing at the bridge and belted out the rest of the song. Jesus, Casey thought. This woman is good!

After the big finish, Karen applauded, and Diana demanded another song.

Casey shook his head. “I really should be getting on the road. It’s a long way to L.A.”

“You don’t want to drive it now. You’ll hit commuter traffic. Stay for dinner. Please. Come on, let’s do another song!”

“She’s right, Casey,” Karen said. “Traffic’s a bitch on the 101 this time of day. You should stay for dinner. Diana’s a wonderful cook. I hope you like vegetarian.”

Why not? Casey smiled at Diana and said, “Name that tune.”

Diana smiled right back. “Embraceable You.”

———

Karen was pleased to observe that Casey was an ideal guest at dinner. Relaxed, jovial, appreciative, and he seemed to enjoy the company as much as he enjoyed the tofu casserole and garden salad. He told stories about his life as a piano bar player, tales that made fun of himself. He even made Theresa break down and smile.

It was Baxter’s and Emily’s turn to wash dishes and Nels’s and Arthur’s turn to dry. Casey rose and offered to help with the dishes, but Karen told him, “That’s nice of you, but you and I need to have a chat. Would you join me in the library?”

He followed her through the hallway to the lobby. They turned and entered the library, where Beatrice was lighting the kerosene lamps. “Thank you, dear,” Karen told her. Beatrice shook out her match, nodded, and left the room, and Karen and Casey sat on opposite ends of a long sofa.

Casey crossed his knees. “What’s up?”

Karen said, “I want to offer you a job.”

“A job? Tuning pianos?”

“Don’t be silly. I want you to be a hotel manager. In case Nellie didn’t tell you, Hope Springs is going to be a hotel again, open to the public on weekends, as it was back in the roaring twenties. And I want you to be the innkeeper of the hotel. We’ll need a host for the guests, a manager for the staff, and an entertainer after dinner. You’ll be perfect, my friend. You’re every bit as sociable as Nellie told me you were, and you also happen to be easy on the eyes, which doesn’t hurt. What do you say? Please make it yes.”

No question about it. Casey had been sick of L.A. for months anyway. “When do you want me to start?”

Karen grinned. “October first. The hotel won’t open until sometime after the new year, but we have a lot of work to do to get ready. I don’t suppose Nellie told you much about how our family has taken care of Hope Springs. No? Well, before our father died in 1950, he left instructions on how his children should take care of this place over the next thirty years. The first decade, the fifties, Hope Springs was the responsibility of my brother, Joel Junior. Joley didn’t live here, he just came down from Santa Barbara every now and then and camped out in the hotel, but otherwise he let Hope Springs go to the dogs. He hated the place, couldn’t stand the smell. Then it was Nellie’s turn. During the sixties she came up from L.A. at least once a month. She hired a gardener to take care of the grounds and a cleaning woman for the hotel, and she threw some wild parties for her Hollywood and Malibu friends. Sex, drugs, you name it. I’ve been here since nineteen seventy, using the place as a commune. We’ve taken good care of Hope Springs, and it’s been our home for ten wonderful years.

“But here it is, the end of the seventies. All things must change. Nellie and I decided to compromise for the first time in our almost fifty years. With Hope Springs back in business as a hotel, she’ll have a party pad again, and I’ll still have a communal home for my friends. Win-win.”

“What about your brother?” Casey asked.

“Joley? Oh, he wants to sell the place, but tough shit. It’s two against one.”

“Okay. Sounds like a tangled mess, but I’m on board. I suppose we should discuss salary, stuff like that.”

Karen nodded. “Nellie’s willing to pay you a thousand dollars a month, and I’m willing to match that. Will that do? Good. Plus room and board. Question. How much dope to you smoke? Be honest.”

“I don’t keep track, but it probably averages once a day.”

“Well, here’s another condition you’ll have to agree to. I can’t have a stoned manager, a stoned innkeeper, or a stoned entertainer. You get stoned on the job, and you’re out of here the next morning. You’ll have afternoons off from one to four. You may get stoned during that time slot, but come four o’clock, you’re straight. Agreed?”

She offered her hand. Casey reached out and shook it. “Agreed.”

Karen stood up and said, “Come on. I’ll show you to your room.”

“My room?”

She nodded. “That’s part of the deal. Room and board. Besides, you need a place to stay tonight. It’s too late to drive all the way back to L.A.”

Casey rose to his feet. “Okay, but I didn’t bring a change of clothes.”

She grinned. “You’ll find that clothes aren’t always all that necessary here. And I have a toothbrush you can use. Don’t worry, it’s brand new. Okay? Follow me. You’ll be in room ten, on the second floor.” She led the way up the stairs. “It’s not the largest room in the hotel, but it’s the only one with a desk, which you’ll need. You’ll also find a terrycloth robe in the closet and a couple of towels in the chest of drawers. So, after you settle in, you can cross the driveway to the bathhouse and have a long, hot soak. I’ll have Diana light a couple of lanterns. Here we are, room ten. I made the bed with fresh clean sheets this morning. Your toothbrush is on the dresser.“

“You had this all planned out in advance?” Casey asked.

“It was my sister’s idea,” Karen answered, “but she said I could be the one to offer you the job. Or not, if I didn’t like you. But I do like you. Nellie was right for a change. You’ll be perfect for this job.”

———

Diana donned her robe in the staff dormitory and carried a towel across the driveway to the bathhouse. The evening was warm and still, and the darkening sky was slowly loading up with stars. As Karen had asked her to do, she lit the two carriage lanterns mounted on the walls of the bath house. Then she removed her robe and hung it on a peg, kicked off her sandals, and lowered herself into the hot, silky, sulfur-fragrant water of bath number one.

She waited. Karen hadn’t told her to wait, but Diana had a hopeful hunch that a wait would pay off.

It did. Here he came, exactly what she was waiting for. She lowered herself farther down in the dark water, trying to hide from view for another minute or two while she watched the handsome piano tuner strip, hang his robe on the peg next to hers, pulled off his tennis shoes, and turn to face her way, standing relaxed, full-frontal-naked in the lamplight.

“Hello,” Diana said, trying to sound like Lauren Bacall, settling for Betty Boop.

Casey jumped like startled thief. “Yikes!”

“Come on in. The water’s wonderful.”

Casey slipped down into the bath and sat a few feet away from Diana, facing her. “Fancy meeting you here,” he said. “I…um…”

Diana scooted on her butt through the distance between them, until their left legs rested against each other. His face was perspiring, and his shy smile twitched. “Yes? You um what?”

“I appear to be tongue-tied,” Casey admitted.

“We don’t have to talk,” Diana said. “How about a foot massage?”

“Are you offering or requesting?”

“Both.”

She felt his hand lift her left foot, and she shifted again so that they faced each other directly across the steaming bath. She took his right foot in her hands, and they went to work, pulling toes, squeezing heels, rubbing soles, and kneading ankles, calves, and even knees.

“Oh,” he said.

“Oh what?”

“Oh, that feels delicious. This is a lovely way—”

“To spend an evening,” Diana softly sang.

“Can’t think of anything I’d rather do,” Casey sang back, just as softly.

“You’re not tongue-tied anymore?”

“I’m never tongue-tied when I’m singing.”

“Let’s tie our tongues together,” Diana offered, and she wondered where all this courage was coming from. “I mean…I mean—”

“Come here, you irreplaceable you,” he crooned, and she floated across the water and into his embrace. They wrapped each other in their arms, held and hugged, skin to skin, chest to tingling chest, and then their mouths met and opened, and their tongues got acquainted and played together for as long as Diana could keep from squirming for joy. When their lips parted into two big smiles, she felt his hand find her breast.

“Do you feel my heart?” she asked him.

Casey took a deep breath, as if he were on the verge of an announcement, but his voice was squeaky and small. “Diana, I think we’d better stop now before things get out of hand.” Saying that, he released her breast. Cleared his throat.

Diana took a deep breath. Her voice was suddenly husky. “So you’re going up to your room now? Room ten?”

Casey stood up. “I think I’d better.” What a…magnificent…man he was, standing there, about to leave. Just standing there.

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll let you go. But first, answer me one question.”

Casey said, “Shoot.”

Diana said, “Would you like some company?”

———

The next morning, Casey awoke late and alone in well-rumpled sheets. He felt more relaxed than he had in a great while, and more alive. And stickier. After stripping his bed, using the bathroom, washing his face, and brushing his teeth, he slipped into his Bermudas, his aloha shirt, and his tennis shoes, picked up his towel, and left the room. He trotted down the stairs and across the drivewayto the bathhouse, where he soaked long enough to clean his skin and settle his spinning mind.

When he returned to the hotel, he walked to the back and looked into the kitchen, where he found Diana studying a recipe in The Moosewood Cookbook. She looked up and smiled, then walked across the kitchen and into his arms for a kiss.

“You slept through breakfast,” she said. “What can I fix you? Eggs? French toast? Granola and fruit, or—”

“Nothing, thanks. I have to hit the road. I overslept.” He cleared his throat and added, “Last night was glorious!”

“Breakfast would have been pretty nice, too. Aren’t you hungry? Can’t I fix you a cup of coffee?”

“No, really. I have to go.”

Diana turned away and said, “So this is it? That’s all, folks?”

“I’ll be back October first,” Casey told her. “I’m moving in.”

She turned back, her eyes wide, her lips in a happy whistle, where Casey kissed her twice more before leaving the kitchen.

Casey walked to the front of the hotel, stopping in the lounge to pick up his tool box, then on to the lobby and out into the warm September morning. He went around to the driveway on the side of the hotel, where he had left his yellow VW bug. He stashed his tools in the trunk, and opened the door on the driver’s side.

“Casey, wait up a minute!”

It was Karen Hope, calling from the vegetable garden. She dropped her trowel and hurried over to him.

“Sorry,” he told her. “I meant to say goodbye, and thanks so much. I had a splendid time. I really did.”

Karen nodded. “I know you did.”

“I look forward to working with you.”

“Listen, you,” Karen said. “There’s one more condition I’m putting on this job.”

“Oh?”

“Listen carefully, lover man. Diana told me this morning how the two of you made whoopee last night. She said it was ‘heavenly,’ I think was the way she put it.”

Casey scratched his beard-stubbled chin. “So it was. Is there a problem with that?”

“Not necessarily,” Karen said. “Not necessarily, but potentially. Listen. Diana Pearson is the kindest, most giving person I know. Diana is compulsively generous and loving. God, that girl loves everybody.”

“I believe you. But what’s the problem?”

“Diana is also terribly, terribly fragile.”

“She—”

“Shut up and listen. I love that girl as if she were my own daughter. I’ve seen her hurt, and I don’t want to see her hurt again. Casey, my friend, hear this. Just be careful. If you hurt Diana, you’ll be out of a job, and if you break her heart, I will crack your nuts.”