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“That’s the theory,” admitted Sue, “but I wonder if most women really want to bare all to a stranger for a bra fitting. It’s a little too clinical, if you know what I mean.”
“I do. Mammograms are bad enough.”
Sue laughed. “And let’s face it, most of the women around here simply aren’t used to being pampered.”
“I think I could get used to it,” confessed Lucy, starting her car. “It’s nice to treat yourself once in a while.”
“Did you get your sticker?” asked Sue.
“You betcha!” crowed Lucy.
She was pocketing her phone, planning to tackle the next name on her list, when it rang and she saw that Bill was calling. Somewhat warily she answered the call.
“Lucy, there’s some old guy in my chair, wearing my bathrobe, saying you sent him here. What is going on?”
This was bad, very bad. “It’s temporary. Only temporary. He’s the sculptor, Karl Klaus, and he needs a place to stay for the night.”
“What? There’s no hotels?” Bill sounded angry.
“Bill, I found him dumpster diving.”
Bill was incredulous. “So you brought him home?”
“Like I said, just for the night. I don’t see the problem. We have three empty bedrooms.”
“You don’t see the problem? There’s dirty clothes all over the floor, the bathroom’s flooded, and he drank all my beer. There’s definitely a problem, Lucy.”
Lucy’s visions of a romantic evening were disappearing fast. “I admit, he’s not quite civilized. I guess it’s part of the artistic temperament.”
“No. The guy’s filthy and rude and I want him out.”
“Soon, Bill. Soon. Just for one night.” She swallowed hard. “It’s for a story I’m working on.”
“So this is a story? I shoulda known. This time, Lucy, you’ve gone too far. You’ve done some crazy stuff but you’ve never brought your work home. Not like this!”
“Calm down, Bill,” she said, pleading. “I’ll take care of this. I promise.”
“You better. Because this is too much!”
“I’m on my way,” she said, scuttling the rest of Ted’s list. This was an emergency. “Just one quick stop and I’ll be home.”
“Bring beer,” snapped Bill.
That was two stops, she thought, agreeing. First stop was Sweet Nothings, where she was going to exchange the cami for one of the comfy granny gowns. She did not see a romantic evening in her future any time soon.
Chapter Four
Lucy wasn’t surprised when she turned in to her driveway on Red Top Road and saw that Bill’s truck was missing. In fact, Karl Klaus’s beat-up old truck was actually in Bill’s usual spot. She figured her husband had simply decided to decamp in order to avoid an unpleasant evening. There were any number of places he could be, she thought, as she got out of the car. He could drown his sorrows in the roadhouse on Route 1, he could hang out with one of his buddies and watch a hockey game on TV, he could treat himself to a diner dinner and catch the latest action movie. The one thing she was pretty sure he wouldn’t do was book a motel room for the night. They’d had other fights throughout their long marriage, he’d occasionally taken off in a fit of anger, but he’d always come home to sleep.
And when she stepped inside the house she had to admit she didn’t blame him for leaving. Karl Klaus had indeed trashed the place. He’d helped himself to food from the fridge, apparently sampling leftovers and leaving the open containers of the ones he didn’t like on the counter and the round golden oak table. A half-empty plastic container was lying in a puddle of milk on the floor, and a trail of discarded beer cans led into the family room, where the TV was on at top volume. Following the noise, she discovered Klaus himself snoring away on the sofa, wearing Bill’s terry cloth robe, which had fallen open, revealing what Lucy definitely did not want to see, although she was relieved he had apparently showered. She turned away and grabbed the remote, clicking off, and the sculptor stirred. She took a deep breath and faced him, noticing that he was now sitting up and had gathered the robe in his hand, covering himself.
“You’re here for one night, and one night only,” she said, starting to gather up the damp towels and various items of clothing that were strewn about on the floor.
“Didn’t ask to come, did I?” he grumbled.
“Perhaps I misunderstood when you said you were homeless!” declared Lucy, waving a towel at him. “I guess I made a big mistake thinking you might need some help.”
Klaus looked down at his bare feet, studying his horny toenails. “I was wondering what’s for dinner,” he admitted, with a shrug.
