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All the changes she wanted to make to the outside of the building had to be approved by the county planning council since it was in a residential zone. Once she and Trey had worked everything out, they submitted plans for approval. She would move in on the intact side, but not until the damage to the outer shell on the other half was repaired. Past that, she could oversee the internal work from the inside.
In preparation, she and Trey spent hours inspecting parquet flooring, bathroom tiles, and electrical appliances. A whole new world opened up. Was it better to have a microwave or a steam oven? A fridge-freezer that defrosted automatically, or one that kept vegetables fresh for several weeks? She had never had to buy household appliances before. She was awed and intrigued by all the things they could do.
Then, there was the houseboat. Though Hank and Patty still refused to allow her to pay anything for rent, she was determined to leave them better off for having done her the kindness. She had spent countless hours scrubbing and making cosmetic repairs to the boat and, upon her departure, would provide them with a pre-paid estimate to have it brought into dry dock for some exterior repairs and a new paint job. They’d have no choice but to accept.
Of course, the bulk of her time was spent with the increasing demands of her faux relationship with King. She was running out of time that she could call her own as her agreement would soon require her to spend large amounts of time masquerading as his partner and eventual wife. It was important that she get as much done before then as possible.
They took to going to the movies together, being seen at prominent hangouts by his club members and townspeople. After several weeks of this escalation in their growing romance, she began hanging out heavily at the clubhouse. As far as anyone knew, she and King were completely into one another.
Things had changed between them, but not as she would have thought. A small part of her had thought those initial reactions she had to his kisses might be reciprocated, but when they were alone, he showed no interesting in making them real. Instead, he was cold, stand-offish. She had learned not to hope for more than what he had offered her, payment for a farce.
She had been at least enthralled when he had told her he had tickets to the Opera in Eugene. Why it surprised her so much to find they even had an opera house there, she wasn’t sure. She had been quite pleased to find there was a great deal of culture in the area since her arrival.
Jo met him the following Tuesday outside the Eugene Opera. She was five minutes early, but he was already there. Though it seemed like just another performance for them, perhaps more so than the opera on hand, it was nice to explore something more interesting than hanging out at the club. Madame Butterfly was just what her soul needed at the moment.
The seats were good ones. They were closer to the stage than expected, and very comfortable. There was room for their legs and no bizarrely placed columns to block the view.
Jo glanced at King, but he was studying his program. It was a marvel how much time she had spent with him lately and how little she still knew about him. He was always kind and considerate in many ways, but he was also distant and withdrawn in ways that mattered between two people. If she sometimes had trouble remembering that this was just a paid gig, the time they were alone, out of the public eye, was always a quick reminder.
Putting it all out of her mind, she focused her energy on the stage, instead. The lights dimmed and she became lost in the magic. It was an excellent production. The décor consisted of Japanese screens that could be opened and closed and moved around at will to convey the fragile atmosphere of Butterfly's house. They had found a Japanese singer to play Madame Butterfly, and a young American to play her lover, Lieutenant Pinkerton. The physical resemblance of the singers to their characters made it seem more real.
Jo watched, enthralled, as the plot unfolded: Pinkerton making it clear that he did not take marriage to a Japanese geisha seriously, Butterfly disowned by her own community, then left without news when Pinkerton's ship sailed away. The tragedy drew closer. The music tore at the heartstrings.
Beside her, King seemed unmoved. When the lights went up for the interval, he took her arm and steered her outside with the air of a man bent on beating the queue for the bar.
"What would you like to drink?" he asked, as they walked through the lobby.
