twenty-two

Nigel and I spent the rest of the day undertaking the Sisyphean task of trying to put the house back into some semblance of order. By nine-thirty, I was tired, grumpy, and seriously considering leveling the house with a boulder just to complete the theme. I flopped heavily onto the couch, unleashing a cloud of feathers from the rent cushions in the process. The feathers swirled around me, sticking to my hair and clothes. “I think it might just be easier to move,” I groused as I watched Skippy bark and pounce on those that floated to the ground.

Nigel plucked a feather from my hair. “You need dinner,” he said. “You always get cranky when you have an empty stomach. Just sit here and relax while I go get us something.” He removed a few more feathers from my person before kissing the top of my head and disappearing into the kitchen. I closed my eyes rather than look at the mess around me. I must have dozed off because it seemed that only a few moments later Nigel had returned. “Here we are,” he said. “Dinner is served.”

Opening my eyes, I looked at the tray on the coffee table in front of me and blinked in confusion. “We’re having a bottle of Merlot for dinner?”

Nigel nodded as he uncorked the bottle. “It’s an old family recipe,” he said. “But, to be safe, I also ordered some Chinese food from that place you like.”

“You’re always thinking, Mr. Martini,” I said as I carefully made room for Nigel on the couch so as not to upset any more feathers. I needn’t have bothered. With a deftly executed backward hop, he vaulted onto the couch. A flurry of white plumes exploded around us. Skippy immediately jumped back to attention, alternately barking and trying to catch each and every feather.

“Forgive me for asking this,” I said, as I pulled a feather out of my mouth, “but why?”

Nigel brushed a feather from his face. “You never wanted to see what it would be like inside a snow globe?” he asked as he leaned forward to pour me a glass of wine.

“No,” I said, “not after the age of six anyway. However, I’m guessing you did.”

He nodded and handed me my glass of wine. “I have to admit. It’s not as fun as I expected.”

I tipped my head in acknowledgement. “Few things are.”

Nigel wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that, Mrs. Martini.”

By the time the food arrived, Nigel and I had moved to the floor, and my mood had vastly improved. The feathers had settled; with the majority of them lodged in Skippy’s fur. Lying on his back with his paws in the air, he now resembled a molting yeti. Nigel spread a blanket on the floor in front of the couch, and we ate our dinner picnic-style from the white take-out boxes.

“What do you think could be on those tapes that somebody was willing to almost kill DeDee?” Nigel asked as he speared a shrimp with lobster sauce and popped it into his mouth.

“No idea,” I said as I chewed on a steamed dumpling. “From what I’ve seen of the footage so far, things seem pretty standard: petty fights, jealousies, ruthless ambition, and inflated egos.”

“None of which are exactly unheard of in this town,” he said.

“None of which are exactly unheard of in any town,” I corrected, as I stuck my chopstick in another dumpling and shoved it in my mouth.

“Janice seemed to hint that there were some untoward behavior on the set,” Nigel said.

“Janice strikes me as someone who seeks out untoward behavior,” I said, while chewing.

“Careful, darling. You know the affect a cynical woman with a mouth full of food has on me.”

“I do indeed,” I answered. “It’s one of the main reasons you married me.”

“Well, that and you owned a gun at the time.”

“I still own the gun,” I pointed out.

“Which is why we’re still married,” Nigel answered.

I finished the steamed dumplings and a few mouthfuls of the fried rice and leaned back against the couch. “I suppose we should clean up and start watching the remaining tapes,” I said with a yawn.

“I suppose we should,” Nigel agreed.

We both fell asleep sitting there. When I awoke the next morning, I saw that Skippy had kindly helped us clean up by eating the rest of the take-out.