Chapter 10

“We must look ridiculous!” Josie yelled to Andrew’s helmet.

He glanced back and grinned.

Andrew had arrived minutes before closing time, met the people she worked with, and tried to get her car started. Even with his prowess with engines, he’d been unable to get hers cranking. “I’ll come back later,” he said, “after I change into old clothes. I might have to take her apart.”

Coming from work, he still wore his tie and the slacks of his suit. He sped Josie off through traffic, and she smiled at herself in her dress, stockings, and pumps. At least, she considered, thinking of Sylvie, her dark blue helmet matched what she wore.

Exhaust fumes struck her from an eighteen-wheeler they followed, but Andrew swerved into another lane behind a red Jaguar. Without looking back, he dropped a hand backward to hold Josie’s thigh.

A mischievous mood caught her, especially since the wind made her feel so carefree. She leaned forward and pressed her body against him. Andrew’s head swayed. She heard him say something about maybe not cooking dinner.

They were laughing when they entered his apartment, a point not missed by Andrew’s German roommate.

“Two happy people I see,” Johan said, grinning when they sauntered inside.

Josie squeezed his hand. “We’re celebrating my new job. Tonight Andrew’s going to cook for me.”

“Andrew’s cooking? Then you had better take some of these.” Johan pulled heartburn tablets from a cabinet.

Josie laughed. Her frame of mind had lightened since reliving that childhood scene, but still she felt a special need for laughter.

The décor in their apartment made her comfortable. “But you,” she told Johan, “are almost as good a cook as you are a decorator.” The mirrors he had lined the walls with sparkled. Josie was again amazed at how they enlarged the small spaces, a trick he learned in his country since most of their homes weren’t as large as houses in the States.

Since he often added more touches that made their apartment interesting, Josie glanced about, looking for anything new. A wide-open appearance came to the rooms he’d made cozy with cushioned benches in muted blue and gold tones built into the walls offering lots of seating space. Josie’s gaze followed the ivy trellises Johan had painted outside the doors and three steps leading down to their bedrooms. She knew that beyond, more mirrors enlarged the rooms they each slept in.

New pottery had been added to the earthen containers Johan had designed and now sprinkled throughout the apartment. Josie spotted an open atlas on the kitchen counter.

Andrew took out an earthenware grill. “My specialty tonight,” he said, bowing with a flourish. “Counter-top barbecue.” He plugged in the grill and set the temperature.

Johan held out a bowl. “You would do better eating my food, Josie.” The pink ground meat in his dish blended with a smattering of green seasonings.

“Raw meat?” Josie withdrew. “I’m sure I’m allergic.”

Johan gave the rich smile that made his slender face appear twice as wide as normal. He shoved the offering toward Andrew.

“You know the meat that goes in my mouth is at least heated.” Andrew took Johan’s bowl and shoved it into the refrigerator.

“Such a waste of good nutrients,” Johan said, shrugging and looking at Josie. “Do you have a good boss?”

“Yes, but I’m not so sure about his partner.” Her gaze fell again to the atlas.

Johan noted her interest. “I was tracking the new tropical storm.”

“Where is it going?”

“Her path has been erratic.” He gave Josie a smirk. “Just like a woman.”

She responded with a tight grin. Something tickled her nostrils and made her sneeze. Andrew was sprinkling red pepper on steaks.

“You don’t do too well with this, do you?” he asked.

“Only after it’s cooked.” She watched him dab on salt and garlic powder.

“The depression has kept moving,” Johan said, not paying attention to their exchange. “Lately the tropics have gotten more active.”

Withholding a shudder, Josie looked closer at the map. Johan had drawn black lines to follow recent storms. Some of his lines crisscrossed, forming a mosaic through the Atlantic Ocean and the Caribbean Sea. On a sheet near the book, Johan had printed dates and coordinates. The last one showed the irregular path of Tropical Storm Charmaine. Fort Walters and Windswept had been circled in red ink.

“She’s changing her mind, keeps on changing her mind,” he said.

“That’s okay as long as she doesn’t intensify. Or decide to come here.” Josie left the book and went to Andrew.

“But she’s grown,” Johan said, regaining Josie’s attention. “Look.”

She reached Johan’s side. He pointed below Cuba. “Charmaine entered here. Then she backtracked all the way to the Atlantic. And now, after standing still and getting stronger for almost two days, this lady has decided to take a slow drift toward the Gulf of Mexico.”

“They like to move slowly,” Andrew said, “and creep up on you.” His fingers crept over Josie’s cheek. He brushed her hair back and kissed her neck.

She grinned but glanced again at Johan’s lines. “But it’s not coming here, is it?”

“She’s taking a westerly turn, probably headed to Texas.” A popping noise came from the counter. “Ah, the steaks sizzle,” Johan said. “Why would anyone want to ruin a fine cut of meat with all that cooking?”

Andrew smirked, turning the steaks. “Why don’t you sit at the table?” he asked Josie and shut the atlas. “We aren’t worrying about storms tonight. I brought you here to serve you.”

“How nice.” She took the chair he pulled out at the table.

He grinned. “And you are to show your undying gratitude.” His gaze slid toward Johan. “Of course not in front of my roommate.”

“I guess I have plans.” Johan grabbed his car keys. He headed for the door.

“Sure you don’t want to join us?” Andrew asked while shoving him out and locking the door.

“If you really want me to stay,” Johan called from the other side.

Returning to Josie, Andrew pressed against her as she leaned back against the snack bar. “And you will show some appreciation?”

She smiled. “For?”

“Taxi service. For my meal. And my love,” he whispered.

His lips touched hers. Andrew’s mouth backed away and returned to press harder. Instead of feeling like a responsible parent, Josie needed to feel loved this evening, and he was filling that need.

He kissed her forehead and her closing eyelids. His lips found her neck while his hands slid to her breasts, sending away final thoughts of her family.

Andrew reached over and yanked the grill’s plug from the wall.

* * *

Anxiety had washed away from Josie like shells sucked from the sand by gulf waves. She remained on Andrew’s pillow after they made love, while he returned to the kitchen to heat their food.

“Stay there,” he told her. “You make my old sheets look wonderful.”

She could have remained. Josie could have curled in that space after dinner and slept with no problem, but she would never do that.

“You don’t have to leave,” Johan had told her the first time she’d come to their apartment. “Please stay overnight with my friend. There is nothing I would rather see in our kitchen when I wake up than a sleepy-eyed, gorgeous woman.”

She thanked him then, saying she appreciated his acceptance of her romance with Andrew. But she had a younger brother. Remaining overnight would not show a good example.

“I admire you for that,” Johan told her. “To most sisters, it would not make a difference.”

Now she was finishing getting dressed when Andrew called to announce the food was ready. He’d fixed yams in the microwave and had salad in bowls.

They laughed while they ate. The reheated steaks were tough. He had changed into old clothes with oil stains. “I’ll come with you,” she told him. “I can hold a flashlight.”

He held a hand up. “It might take awhile. And if I have you out in that darkness, I might be tempted again and forget all about your car.” He grinned. “You wait for me here. With the Papa.”

The way he said it made her smile. Andrew left the table and returned with a DVD. “I’ll be back before the old man marries off his daughter.”

She hadn’t seen Fiddler on the Roof in years but found the story delightful. The father’s gutsy songs always made her happy. She curled up on the couch, and soon her voice was cheerfully booming along with the papa’s. She’d become so engrossed with the song she barely heard the phone ring.

“Josie, what you doin’?” Some concern was in Colin’s tone.

“Singing.” She burst into song.

As she expected, he groaned.

She sniggered. “So what are you doing that’s better than singing?”

He hesitated. “Not much.”

“Did you need Andrew?”

“No, I’m okay.”

His tone was too strained. She heard it so often when he tried to brush over his illness. “What’s going on? What are you and our mother doing?”

“Oh, she needed to go back to work. I’m just sitting around, playing with my football guys.”

“She went to work!” Josie was on her feet. “You’re alone this late?”

Colin sniffled. He’d been crying. “They needed her. She said she won’t be too long.”

“How long has she been gone?”

“I don’t know, maybe a couple of hours.”

“Oh Colin.” That child by himself all this time? Josie darted to grab her purse and then remembered. She didn’t have a car.

“But it’s okay, Josie. I’m not a baby you know.”

Her mind rummaged. Could she get home faster with Andrew or a taxi? “I was about to come back anyway.” She attempted to sound playful. “So you’d better not have a big mess in that den when I get there, you hear?”

Relief bled into his sigh. “Or what’ll you do?”

“Or you will witness your big sister’s fury.” She slipped on her shoes without her hosiery.

He gave a small laugh. “Right.”

“I’ll be there soon.” Immediately would not be soon enough. “You run around the den and clean up now.”

“Okay, I’m gonna run.” He hung up.

She dialed Andrew’s cell phone. “Come on. Come on,” she said while the ringing sounded.

“This is Andrew.”

“I need to get home.”

The minutes it took for him to arrive felt like hours to Josie, but at least he’d fixed her car. A light shower sprinkled them on Andrew’s motorcycle, adding to the chill she already felt. He dropped her off and waited until she had her car going.

She told him not to come inside since it was so late and Colin wouldn’t like both of them checking on him, but Andrew followed to her house. When Josie turned into her driveway, he continued down the street.

Every light was on in the house.

“Why’d you come back so soon?” Colin asked when she burst inside, his voice expressing his relief at seeing her. He sat on the den floor, pretending to feel secure with small football men.

“I just got tired of Andrew.”

The child glanced up with a grin.

“You know how he is.” She shed her pumps on the floor. “Aggravating, a big old pest.”

“Yeah.” Colin wasn’t paying attention to the comedy on television but had it full blast. The noise surely was to drown out any sounds that might frighten him. And if any bad guys were near, they might believe many people were in here.

Josie lowered the volume.

Immediately a scraping sounded. It seemed to come from the kitchen or just beyond, making her focus on listening.

Colin, looking weary, made a football player jump. The plastic man came down on Josie’s foot. “Gotcha!” Colin said, making his toy tap her toes.

She pretended it hurt. Stopping her intensified concentration on trying to hear phantom noises, she told herself the hour was late, and, like Colin, she was believing someone might try to break in and get her.

“So you think you’re tough?” Sitting on the floor, she used another athlete to knock Colin’s player off her foot. “Take that.”

“Uh uh, you take that.” He made his football guy stomp Josie’s.

“You know who’s tough?” She lifted her player high off the floor. “Johan.”

Colin scrunched his nose. “Johan?”

“Yeah, he eats raw meat.”

“Ugh.” Colin caught his throat and made gasping sounds.

“You’d better start listening to your sister,” Josie said in mock warning, “or that’s what I might start feeding you.”

He sat still, making faces of protest.

She did hear something near the kitchen.

“No way, Jose!” Her brother shook his head. “You won’t feed me any raw meat.”

“You never can tell.” She disregarded the kitchen sound as the icemaker dumping cubes. The noise had grown louder and abruptly stopped. “I might start slipping uncooked meat in your orange juice.”

“Raw meat in orange juice, double yuk.” Colin clenched his throat with both hands, and Josie saw at the window that headlights were coming down their driveway.

“You’d never catch me eating that gross stuff,” Colin said with finality.

Josie heard a door shut.

Scrambling to the recliner, Colin stood on it, reaching for the dialysis machine. “Help, Fred! She’s grossing me out.”

“Who’s grossing you out?” Sylvie came from the kitchen. She eyed Colin standing on the furniture and kissed him.

He pointed to Josie. “Her.”

“Not me.” She shrugged innocence.

Sylvie kissed Josie’s cheek. “Good, and see that you don’t.” She sat beside Colin, slipped a shoe off, and rubbed her foot. In the same moment, her gaze strayed to the sofa. Sylvie rose, hobbled there, and straightened a pillow. She plucked up a dark thread and placed it in her jacket pocket.

“You look worn out,” Josie said.

Their mother sat again. “We never stopped. Two people called in sick, and the store was swamped with the sale so they called me. These new shoes pinched my toes, and we never slowed down. You know how it is, Josie.”

Sure, everyone needs a new diamond now and then.

Sylvie picked a piece of grass off her shoe. Colin’s attention returned to his small athletes, and Josie said she was going to bed. “We won’t be long either,” Sylvie told her.

Josie paused to glance in the kitchen. The uneasiness that came over her made her scalp tingle. The noise she’d heard had not been ice dumping. What had made those sounds only seconds before Sylvie pulled in?

* * *

In the morning Josie still felt ill at ease. She checked outside the wooden kitchen door. Near the latch, she found scratches.

Somebody had been out there trying to break in.

She trembled. Reasoning came as she studied the small scratches. Her father had broken into their house back in Nashville. Whenever he returned, if nobody was home, he scraped the door like this while he jimmied the lock.

He could have made these marks while he was still living here. Or maybe he’d come back yesterday and tried to get in.

Josie had too many jumbled feelings to try to sort them all out. She hurried to the store and rushed to finish sewing the hem.

During the afternoon Bitsy came in looking especially young with no makeup on and her hair in a ponytail.

“Perfect,” Bitsy said once Josie carefully zipped the gown on her.

Bitsy stood tall on the stand while Josie stooped, inching around the circle, touching and straightening the hemline. Swaying to make her skirt swing, Bitsy kept the hem moving across the top of her shoes. “Now I won’t trip on this,” she said, giving Josie her hand and stepping down. “You’ve got it perfect.”

Randall Allen came near. “Is everything all right?” he asked Bitsy. “You look lovely.”

“Yes, your seamstress is wonderful.”

Josie felt herself blush when they stared at her with admiration. “I’m glad you like her work,” Allen told Josie’s first customer, and he and Bitsy praised her for getting the tedious task done so quickly.

Josie remained at Ye Bridal Shoppe late to complete a hem the previous seamstress had left half finished, and when she drove off, retained the feeling she thought an accomplished maestro must experience after an exceptional performance.

In the morning she would get right to work on the suit for the grandmother of another bride. She knew how to improve on the aqua taffeta outfit. If Josie tapered the waist, adjusted darts to raise the bust line, and moved shoulder seams in half an inch, Grandmother’s dress would have a perfect fit.

Josie mentioned her suggestions, and the elder lady said no, she would take it just as it was.

Josie determined a Byron Songe gown would look even better if she added a lace bouffant at its rear waistline. The sleeves of a dress by Blakely would look exquisite with matching sequins sewn in. Josie wanted to remold the bodice of a midnight blue velvet gown.

Stopping at a drugstore, she sauntered down an aisle deciding one day she’d have a shop of her own. In it she would display only works she designed.

The idea sprang up and excited her so much she found herself paying for only aspirin. She’d almost forgotten to ask for Colin’s prescriptions.

Her enthusiasm ebbed once she had his medicines in the bulging bag on the car seat beside her. The late afternoon sky had darkened. Rain clouds hovered, bringing the sky so low it seemed the entire mass might rest on the moving cars. Headlights shone from cars and trucks coming toward her. She turned on her lights. Adjusting her mirror to see through the thickening traffic, she gave a signal and shifted into the left lane.

A dark car behind her moved there, too.

The center of its headlights made a slight twinkle, making Josie recall she had recently noticed that coming from another car.

Paying closer attention, she saw this car looked like a dark sedan. She watched for another space in the right lane, spied a small opening, and slid there.

So did the sedan.

She couldn’t see its driver.

Waiting for an opening in the left lane, Josie pulled there and watched the sedan draw over to the rear of the truck right behind her.

Her pulse raced and stomach tightened. In the mirror she saw the sparkling headlights remaining two cars behind.

A buzzing formed in her head. She remembered the noise outside the kitchen door.