The Grand Finale

Chapter Four

Mrs. Fitz, Mrs. Dugan, and Miss Gaspich perched on the edge of the couch, their eyes glued to the television set, their mouths slightly open as they watched the last few minutes of Ghostbusters. Scattered in front of them were the remnants of supper: Styrofoam hamburger cartons, a few ketchup-soaked French fries, five empty milkshake cups, and a large bakery box containing one lonely doughnut.

Berry sat on the rug, her back resting against the edge of the couch. A gigantic marshmallow man had just appeared on the screen, and Berry decided he didn’t seem nearly as menacing as Jake Sawyer stoking the fire in the Franklin stove. Jake wore jeans that seductively clung to the most mouthwatering butt Berry had ever seen. Definitely not the butt of a chemist, she concluded. It would be a sin to hide that butt under a lab coat. Jake Sawyer had the butt of a pirate. A rogue butt. Her eyes glazed over in silent appreciation while she memorized the contours and speculated on the hidden details. When Jake stood and stretched, she quickly transferred her attention to the movie.

She sensed, rather than saw, Jake moving toward her. His knee grazed her shoulder, and Berry knew if she turned her head she’d be staring into the intriguing bulge behind his zipper-the one part of his anatomy that was possibly more perfect than his butt. Don’t look! she told her eyes. You know what trouble you got into last time you ogled that bulge!

He nudged her again with his knee, more firmly this time, pushing her forward a bit. “Scoot up,” he whispered.

Before Berry knew what had happened she felt him slide behind her, sandwiching himself into a sitting position between her and the couch, trapping her between his legs. She inched forward, but he wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her secure against his chest. His voice hummed softly into her hair. “This is nice.”

Nice? Nice was a little bland for what she felt. What she felt was more like wow and holy Toledo. Unfortunately, this was not the time for wow feelings. Her life was complicated enough. She could barely hold her own between the Pizza Place and her studies, and it kept getting worse. First the ladies, then the Jeep, now the fire. Jake Sawyer was pretty darn fabulous, but he was not part of The Plan.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Berry said.

“Shhh, the movie. You’ll disturb the ladies.”

Berry looked to the ladies but found them engrossed in the heroics of Bill Murray. She wriggled within Jake’s grasp, attempting to free herself.

“Lord, Berry, now you’re disturbing me,” Jake said. “Will you stop sliding around? This is going to get embarrassing.”

She carefully relaxed into his chest and sat perfectly still, not wanting to encourage anything, but secretly enjoying the intimacy. His steady heartbeat vibrated throughout her body, rain had begun to splash against the dark windows of the cozy Victorian, and the marshmallow exploded.

Mrs. Dugan’s eyes shone with excitement as the credits rolled across the screen. “First time I’ve ever seen that movie. It’s a wonderful movie.”

Mrs. Fitz agreed. “It was a treat.”

Jake eased away from Berry. “Speaking of treats, I have some goodies to distribute.”

Two minutes later he returned from the kitchen with an armful of shopping bags.

“Mrs. Fitz, this belongs to you,” Jake said, handing her a bag. “Mrs. Dugan, here’s your loot.” He handed a bag to Miss Gaspich.

“Lipstick!” Mrs. Fitz announced. “He bought me lipstick. And a nightgown.” She held it up for inspection. “It’s a pip.”

“Here’s the toothbrushes.” Miss Gaspich smiled shyly. “This is better than Christmas. We got slippers, and face cream, and hairbrushes.”

Berry looked at Jake. “You’re awfully good at buying women’s toiletries.”

“I have four younger sisters. I know all about girl things,” he told her proudly.

Miss Gaspich stifled a yawn, “I can’t wait to get into my nightgown and climb into bed.” She looked questioningly at Jake. “Where is my bed?”

Jake stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets. “I have four bedrooms, but only one bed. I suppose the most sensible arrangement is for you ladies to use my king-sized bed. Berry and I will sleep downstairs.”

Mrs. Dugan narrowed her eyes. “You’re not planning any funny stuff, are you? I won’t put up with hanky-panky.”

“The thought never entered my mind,” Jake said. “Berry can sleep on the couch, and I’ll rough it on the floor. I have some sleeping bags upstairs.”

Mrs. Dugan pressed her lips together. “I suppose that will be all right, but I’ve got good ears. You better watch your step.”

Jake’s face creased into a good-natured smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

Berry watched the women climb the stairs. “That was really nice of you to get lipstick and moisturizer for them. It’s been a long time since they could afford those luxuries.”

“You haven’t opened your bag.”

Berry studied the pale lavender bag on the coffee table. It was smaller than everyone else’s bag, and it was from an expensive shop catering to fancy lingerie and expensive perfume. It was a bag designed to hold silk teddies and lacy thongs. “I’m afraid to open it. Is this something extravagant?”

“Sleepwear.”

She extracted a small bottle of perfume that she suspected cost more than a replacement for her Jeep. “There’s only perfume in here.”

“Yup.”

“Everyone else got flannel nightgowns.”

“Isn’t there a nightgown in there?”

Berry searched the tiny bag. “No.”

Jake stroked her cheek with his fingertip. His eyes grew dark. His voice turned alarmingly husky. “You’re so beautiful with your unruly blond curls and silky peaches-and-cream skin. You should wear nothing to bed but a dab of perfume.” His hands traced the slender column of her neck and rested in a caress on her shoulders. “I have a confession to make. I’m in big trouble here. I’m having heart problems.”

“Good Lord. What kind of heart problems?”

“Heartache, heartthrob, heart flutters. I feel like the Grinch at Christmas-you know, the part where his heart grew two sizes in one day. I thought my heart was going to burst when I saw you for the first time, lying on the ground beneath that big old oak tree. You looked like a crazy modern-day wood nymph.”

Berry’s eyes flew open. “Crazy?”

“For crying out loud, you were flat out on a pizza.” He grinned at her indignation and cuddled her close to him. “Maybe someday you’ll develop heart problems, and you’ll come to me wearing just the perfume.”

“Not anytime soon,” Berry said. “I have a plan.”

“I’m not liking the plan,” Jake told her.

He curled his fingers in her hair, holding her head captive while he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her slowly and gently.

It was like being drugged, Berry thought. Once he was this close to her she was a goner. Her thinking slowed, and her heart rate accelerated. At the first touch of his tongue, her stomach tumbled. He was pressing himself into her belly, holding her against him so she couldn’t escape the feel of him wanting her.

“I’m going to tell Mrs. Dugan on you,” Berry murmured halfheartedly.

“Mrs. Dugan doesn’t scare me.”

“Oh, ha!”

“Okay, maybe a little.”

There was a pattering of slippered feet upstairs and a fit of obtrusive coughing. “We’re going to bed now,” Mrs. Fitz called down. “Anybody need anything from the bedroom?”

“Yes,” Jake yelled back at her. “Be right there.”

Moments later he returned to Berry with two sleeping bags draped over his arm and a large royal-blue silk pajama top in his hand. He dropped the sleeping bags on the floor and held the pajama top up for Berry’s inspection.

“My sister Amy gave me these pajamas last Christmas. She has an enhanced image of bachelor existence.”

“Mmmm?”

“I’d prefer you wear only the perfume to bed, but if you’re the shy type you could start out in these.”

Berry took the pajama top and narrowed her eyes. “To begin with, where’s the other half? You only brought me the top.”

“I thought the bottoms would get in our way.”

“Read my lips. I am not going to bed with you.”

“You would have if Mrs. Fitz hadn’t interrupted.”

“A moment of weakness. It won’t happen again. And anyway, you don’t know that for sure. Maybe I’ll just sleep in my clothes.”

“Don’t you think that will be uncomfortable?”

Berry couldn’t think of anything more uncomfortable than sleeping in Jake’s silky pajamas. The very idea gave her a lust attack. She chose one of the sleeping bags and laid it the length of the couch.

“They zip together, you know,” Jake said.

“Not tonight, they don’t.”

Jake started to get undressed.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Getting undressed for bed.”

“Aren’t you going to turn off the light? Aren’t you going to wear pajamas? Don’t you have to brush your teeth, or something?”

“Nope.”

“Terrific.” She jumped into her sleeping bag and turned her face to the back of the couch.

“I thought you liked watching men undress,” Jake said, smiling, enjoying the moment.

Berry grunted and burrowed deeper into her bag.

“Last chance to look,” he offered in a loud whisper.

“Oh! Ugh!”

Jake made some chicken sounds, flicked the light switch, and the room was plunged into darkness.

Too bad she wouldn’t look, he thought. He was wearing his boxers with the big red hearts and pink cupids. His sister had given them to him as a gag Valentine’s Day present, and they’d become his instant favorite. They were awesome.

Berry listened to him position his own bag as close as possible to the couch. There was a rustle of material and the sound of a zipper. In a short time the room was filled with quiet, regular breathing. He was asleep. What nerve! She peeked over the side of the couch and watched him.

He was wickedly tasty-looking, and she had to admit, he really did bring out her voyeuristic tendencies. He also was beginning to bring out other tendencies-like maternal instincts, wifely musings, and lonely dissatisfactions. There was more to this than sex, Berry realized. True, there was an instant magnetism between them, but it would have died a quick death if she hadn’t liked him. He was kind. He was fun. He was brave.

She tapped his bare shoulder.

“Mmmm?”

“Jake, are you awake?”

“I am now.”

“Why do you want to make love with me?”

There was a soft groan. “You woke me up to ask me that?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know. I guess it’s like asking someone why they want to climb a mountain, and they say because it’s there.”

The instant he said it he knew it was wrong. What he meant to say was that she came into his life and it was love at first sight. And if not first sight, definitely second sight. He had no clue where the mountain-climbing thing came from. He must have been dreaming about Everest.

“Jeez Louise,” Berry said. “I’m just some mountain to conquer.”

“No! That’s not what I meant. You woke me up. I wasn’t thinking right.”

“Me either,” Berry said. “Criminy, I’m such a dope.” I actually was liking this guy, Berry thought. I was getting all gushy inside thinking about us together. And now it turns out I’m a mountain!

Jake stared into the darkness. Gonna take some work to dig myself out of this one, he thought.

Slam!

Berry awoke with a jolt and sat up in her sleeping bag.

Stomp, stomp, stomp.

Jake opened one eye and looked at Berry. “We have elephants upstairs? The circus come into town last night while I was asleep?”

“I think the ladies are up.”

Jake looked at his watch. “It’s five-twenty.”

The lights flashed on upstairs, and footsteps sounded on the stairs.

Jake groaned, crawled out of his sleeping bag, and stepped into the clothes he’d dropped on the floor the night before. He flipped the light switch, and Mrs. Fitz stood blinking at them.

She wore her new flannel nightgown and pink furry slippers, and her hair stood straight out from her head.

“Lord,” Jake whispered to Berry, “she looks like she’s been electrocuted.”

Berry bit her lip. “Something wrong, Mrs. Fitz?”

“I need tea.” And she shuffled off toward the kitchen.

Next, Mrs. Dugan stomped down the stairs, gave Berry and Jake a cursory glance, and huffed after Mrs. Fitz. There was a flurry of banging pots and clattering silverware from the kitchen. A few minutes later Miss Gaspich joined them.

“Where’s the tea bags?” Mrs. Fitz called. “I can’t find nothing in this kitchen.”

Jake grinned at Berry. “The ladies didn’t have a good night.”

He sauntered out to the kitchen, and soon soothing sounds drifted in to Berry. Jake was telling Mrs. Fitz how nice she looked in the morning… full of energy. Mrs. Dugan and Miss Gaspich were similarly pacified.

Berry joined the group, and a tablecloth was discovered and spread over the round oak table. A blue teapot appeared. Packing crates were drawn up to serve as chairs. Mrs. Fitz looked like she was beginning to come around, but Miss Gaspich looked like death. Her red-rimmed eyes sagged in her face, and her mouth crinkled into a small furrow in pasty cheeks.

“Miss Gaspich, do you feel all right?” Berry asked.

Miss Gaspich slumped against the table, staring glassy-eyed at her teacup. “Couldn’t sleep all night. Didn’t sleep a wink.”

Mrs. Fitz looked disgusted. “You snored all night, you old bat. And you hogged the pillow.”

Mrs. Dugan leaned across the table. “You! You were the one who hogged the pillow. Tossing and turning and complaining. Mildred was the perfect bed partner compared to you.”

Jake deposited a steaming mug of coffee in front of Berry. “Looks like we have a problem here.”

“Possible multiple homicides.”

“I think I’ll go out and get some beds today.”

He slouched over Berry, draping his bare arm across her collarbone, and whispered in her ear. “I only have four bedrooms. Guess that means two of us will have to double up.”

Mrs. Dugan glared at him. “I heard that. You men. You only have one thing on your mind. Sex. Sex. Sex.”

Mrs. Fitz winked at Jake. “Don’t pay no attention to her. She’s cranky because she’s always got sex on her mind, too, but she can’t remember what you’re supposed to do about it. Last man Mrs. Dugan knew was old Criswald, and he couldn’t remember what to do about it, either.”

Miss Gaspich giggled. Mrs. Dugan looked scandalized. And Mrs. Fitz looked like she was enjoying their reactions.

“I tell you what,” Mrs. Fitz said, smiling broadly. “How about when Jake goes out to get us some beds, he gets us some handsome men to go with them?”

Sarah Dugan pursed her lips. “That’s disgusting.”

“Yeah. But it made Mildred giggle. It’s bringing some color to her cheeks.”

Berry sipped at her coffee and thought she wouldn’t want to underestimate Mrs. Fitz. Her methods were a bit unorthodox for a little old lady but she knew how to rally the troops.

Jake finished his coffee. “It’s Saturday. What time does the Pizza Place open on Saturday?”

“Ten.”

“I guess we can get ourselves together by ten.”

“First breakfast,” Mrs. Dugan said.

Mrs. Fitz drained her cup of tea. “Then the laundry. If we don’t do the laundry we’ll have to work in our nighties.”

Jake set his cup on the table and lazily stretched behind Berry. “I’ll take a quick shower, and then we can check out the apartment.”

Berry was having a difficult time not bursting into tears. The apartment was even worse than she’d remembered. The soot was everywhere. It had infiltrated every drawer, it clung to the walls, and it blackened the windows.

Jake put his arms around Berry and rested his chin on the top of her head. “It could be worse. No one was hurt.”

“Yes, but everything is ruined.”

“Not everything.”

Berry looked down at the rug. “The rug is ruined.”

“Mmmm.” His voice rumbled in her ear.

Berry was having a difficult time concentrating on the rug. She was being distracted by his hands inching their way down her spine.

“And the couch is ruined,” she said.

“Mmmm. The couch.”

The hands squeezed her ever so slightly, and his thumbs massaged little circles into her back just above the waistband of her jeans.

“And… um.” She couldn’t think what else was ruined. It was right on the tip of her tongue, but she was being rendered senseless by his thumbs.

“The curlers were faulty and the company will be responsible for damages, including cleanup,” Jake said. “I think we should gather up the clothes and linens and take them all back to my house to be washed. The rest of this you can leave to the professionals.”

Berry squeezed her eyes shut and a tear popped out. “It makes me sad to see it like this.”

“Me too,” Jake said.

“I think I’d feel better if I cleaned it a little.”

Jake held her a little tighter. “Me too.”

“Really?”

“No,” he said, “but I’ll do anything to prevent another tear from sliding down your cheek.” He turned and rummaged through the drawers by the sink. “Where are your big garbage bags?”

“One drawer down.”

He located the bags and tossed them to her. “Here you go. Stuff the clothes and linens in these. I’m going to get the rug up before it ruins the floor.”

Berry filled the station wagon with the bagged laundry and looked up at her open windows. Jake was stuffing part of the waterlogged rug through one of them. “Bombs away,” he called, catapulting the rug onto the sidewalk below.

“Jake?”

He leaned out the window and grinned. His shirtsleeves were rolled to above the elbow, and a black smudge slanted across his cheek.

“Thanks,” Berry called up to him.

“Are you looking for a way to show gratitude?” he asked.

Berry smiled in spite of herself. She had to admire his tenacity.

An hour later Berry returned with Mrs. Fitz and Miss Gaspich. She unlocked the door to the Pizza Place and was relieved to see only a few water stains creeping down the walls.

“Just as good as new,” Mrs. Fitz commented.

Miss Gaspich set a bunch of wildflowers on the counter. “I picked these this morning in the woods behind Jake’s house. Don’t they look nice?”

Berry smelled the flowers. “They look great.”

Mrs. Fitz wrapped a snow-white apron around her middle. “We can handle this. You go on upstairs and help Jake with the apartment. Sounds like he’s having a party up there.”

Berry looked at the ceiling. It did sound like a party upstairs. There was music blaring from a radio and the sound of at least a dozen feet scuffing around. She took the stairs two at a time and found her apartment filled with people. Mrs. Giovanni stood at the sink, up to her elbows in soapsuds. Several adult Lings were scrubbing walls and scouring floors. Ling children ran from bedroom to living room in a game of tag. A tall, rawboned man turned from a sparkling-clean front window. He held a bottle of glass cleaner and looked pleased. “They’re pretty clean, now. Now you can see Mama Giovanni’s geraniums when they bloom, and down the street my Caribe Restaurant.”

Berry caught Jake by the arm as he hauled a load of trash to the stairs. “What are all these people doing here?”

“They just showed up, one by one. You were right. This is a nice neighborhood.”

“They came to help me?”

“Mrs. Ling said you were the reason her daughter won her class spelling bee last month. Said you tutored her free for weeks before the contest. Mrs. Giovanni tells me you drove her to the hospital every day for almost a month this winter when her husband had a heart attack.”

“The tall man cleaning the windows,” she whispered. “I’ve never met him.”

“Apparently you’ve befriended his wife.”

Berry looked confused.

“Anne Marie.”

Berry’s eyes opened wide. “Anne Marie?” She burst out laughing. “Anne Marie is a six-foot-tall platinum blond who only speaks French. She gets lonely when her husband is at work, so she visits me. I speak English and make pizzas, and she sits on the stool, knitting and speaking French. Neither of us can understand anything the other says.”

Jake shook his head. “How can you find time to do all these things, run a business, and go to school?”

“I’ve eliminated sleeping and only eat once a day.”

Jake was serious. “What about time for Berry?”

“I like my life.”

“I think you’re running on empty. When you say you haven’t got time for naked men-you’re right.”

“Naked men do not play an important role in my life.”

Jake grinned down at her. “I intend to change that.”

“Good thing for you Mrs. Dugan stayed home to do the laundry. I’d tell her you were talking dirty to me.”

“That isn’t talking dirty.” He leaned forward and whispered some of his future intentions in her ear. He stepped back, grinning, enjoying the look of flustered embarrassment on her face. “Now that’s talking dirty.”

Mrs. Giovanni bustled past with a bottle of detergent in her hand. She shook her finger at Berry. “You got a nice young man there. You’re lucky to have a man like that to take care of you.”

Jake whispered in Berry’s ear. “See, even Mrs. Giovanni thinks I should take care of you.”

“I don’t need taking care of.”

“Of course you do.”

“Not the way you mean.”

“Especially the way I mean.”

Berry narrowed her eyes and put her fists on her hips. “I guess I know what I need and what I don’t need. And I don’t need what you think I need. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“I suppose you are-but it would be much more fun if we did it together.”

“I didn’t mean… you know perfectly well… oh, jeez.”

Jake handed her the bag of trash. “Here, this isn’t heavy. It’s scraps of wallpaper I scraped off the bedroom wall. You could take it downstairs for me. It’ll give you a chance to cool off.” He winked at Mrs. Giovanni. “Just being around me gets her all overheated.”

Berry took the bag and smacked Jake over the head with it.

Mrs. Fitz stood in the doorway of the Pizza Place and clicked her tongue at Berry. “You look like someone just stepped on your corns.”

“It’s that Jake Sawyer.”

“Isn’t he something? Um-hmmm.”

“The man has one thing on his mind.”

“You?”

“S-e-x.”

Mrs. Fitz looked at Berry. “Don’t underestimate him.”

Berry raised her eyebrows in question.

“He’s in love with you,” Mrs. Fitz said.

“We hardly know each other.”

“Sometimes your heart knows stuff your head hasn’t figured out yet.”

“He’s never told me.”

“Maybe he don’t know. Maybe he knows, but he’s afraid, like you.”

Berry squared her shoulders. “I’m not afraid.”

“Don’t tell fibs.”

“It’s just that I have this plan.”

“Bullshoot.”

“Mrs. Fitz! Such language.”

Mrs. Fitz laughed and slapped her thigh. “I know it. Aren’t I the ornery old lady, cussing like that?” She shook her head and returned to the caldron of pizza sauce bubbling on the stove. “You gotta be flexible, Lingonberry. Sometimes plans gotta change or you lose good opportunities. Isn’t every day a man like Jake Sawyer comes along. That man is fine.”

Miss Gaspich kneaded a huge wad of dough on the butcher-block table. A small smile hovered at her mouth. Her eyes twinkled. “And he’s got a great butt,” she added quietly.