Kelly Lane - Wet and ready

I guess Mimi and Gus thought the same way I did, because they suddenly became concerned with my welfare. They didn't like the idea of leaving me home alone for the whole day. They were responsible for me, they said.

"You're only eighteen," Mimi explained.

I wondered what exactly she meant by that. She said it as though she thought eighteen wasn't old enough to be able to take care of myself, but I suspected that she had in mind just the opposite idea. Mimi seemed a lot more aware and sensitive to things going on around her than I had first given her credit for. She looked at me in an odd way, or maybe that was just my own feelings of guilt.

Regardless of what prompted their concern, both Mimi and Gus agreed that I should stay with someone. It was Gus who suggested the Prices.

"What about Lena and Henry?" he said.

Mimi gave him a stern look before she asked: "Do you think they would be suitable?"

"Why? Lena could use the help, and I'm sure that Tootsie would get along very well with Henry. Don't you think so?"

Mimi hedged. "But they have no children."

"So what? It'll just give Tootsie more time to do various little things around the house. I'm sure Lena wouldn't mind and I know Henry would be pleased."

Mimi finally agreed, and the following morning, just before they left, they drove me over to the Prices'. They were awake and dressed, expecting us, I guess, and they were happy to see us. Their house was a little larger than the Wellses' place, and I was glad my stay with them was only going to be for the day.

Mimi and Gus waved good-bye, and Cindy and Percy pleaded with me to come with them. I was tempted to change my mind, but Henry Price put his arm around my shoulder and waved the Wellses on.

"Go ahead," he told them; holding me more closely to him than I would have expected from someone I had just met. "Leave her be! You have a long trip ahead of you and I hear it's hot as hell in the city. Let Tootsie stay! Enjoy the trip!"

His hand was heavy on my shoulder, his fingers pinching into my arm. He was on the heavy side, and I could smell the sourly distasteful smell of perspiration.

"Go ahead," I echoed to them. The words were weak and perhaps unconvincing, but I was too far committed to change my mind now. "I'll have a good time."

They took me at my word and left me standing there with Lena and Henry, almost total strangers. For some reason I felt a sinking heaviness in my stomach as the car disappeared down the road. I sighed in resignation, and Henry finally relinquished his hold on my arm.

"Would you like some breakfast?" he asked, smiling at me. His wife was standing behind him.

She smiled down at me, and I wondered for a moment how such an attractive woman ever got stuck with such a plain-looking man like her husband.

"No thank you," I answered politely. "I've already eaten breakfast."

"Some coffee maybe?" she asked.

"Nothing, thanks. Can I help you with something around the house?"

She thought for a moment, and I knew it was going to be difficult for her to treat me as an employee. As far as she was concerned, I was a houseguest and not someone to do the chores. But she surprised me.

"Well, I do have some breakfast dishes still in the sink." It was plainly a question on her part, but nevertheless, the undertones were clear.

Actually, I was grateful for something to do. It was difficult enough standing around trying to make small talk with strangers. We all felt uncomfortable. I was glad to have an out, and I knew the more work I did, the faster the time would go by. Perhaps, even this afternoon, I could convince them to let me go to the beach.

"Sure," I said. "Lead me to the dishes." I walked up the porch with Lena, leaving Henry behind us.

"You're sure, now, that you don't mind?" she asked almost apologetically.

"There's no difficulty. I'll be glad to do them."

"Good. That will give me a chance to catch up with my cleaning and bed making. You know how it is in these summer cottages… it's not like home. You kind of let things slide, if you know what I mean?"

She led me to the kitchen, and my mouth almost fell open. The sink was piled high with dishes and pots and pans and silverware. There must have been at least a week's worth of dishes in the sink.

"Uh," Lena began guiltily, "I hate dishes. I just put them off until there's absolutely no dishes left, then I have to do them. I hope you don't mind."

I told her not at all, and in a way I was glad. I knew it would take me a long while to finish, and that would kill a big part of the morning. I asked her for the dishwashing liquid and a sponge and the Brillo. She got it all out from under the sink, thanked me again, and left me alone in the kitchen with all the filth.

I dove into the work. I've always enjoyed washing dishes. You do it so mechanically, without thinking what you're doing. You can put your mind on something else. Like I was doing now.

I was thinking of how much of a slob Lena was. You could never tell from the outside; she looked so clean and immaculate. Everything was in place, everything about her person neat and orderly. She was tall and good-looking, perhaps thirty-four or -five, long blonde hair, perhaps bleached, and very well-groomed. Even her complexion was clear and clean, surprisingly so for a woman her age – no lines or anything. And her figure was tight, trim, well-kept. No sagging, even when she wasn't wearing a bra.

Maybe that was her secret, I thought, scraping at the encrusted food on a dish. She paid so much attention to herself that she had no time left for the housekeeping. It probably would explain why they never had any children. Why spoil that firm body with kids?

That was being cruel. I didn't really know that was the reason, just as I was guessing at why she let the house get in this state. It was all my imagination, speculation. But still.

Now Henry Price – he was something else. He looked like a slob. Fat, overweight, balding head; he had all the makings of a dirty old man. He was so unlike his wife; she was outwardly neat and impeccable while he walked around with his fly half-open and his shirttails hanging out. He was even shorter than she, and being overweight made his appearance even worse. He looked like a dirty round ball.

"How's it going, Tootsie?"

I turned and looked. Speak of the devil, it was Henry Price.

"Pretty well," I answered politely. "Sure is a lot of dishes."

"Well, Lena has some unusual habits. Not doing the dishes is only one of them." He walked over to the sink and leaned on the sideboard, smiling up at me through his thick, horned-rimmed glasses.

"Where is she?" I asked, feeling uncomfortable next to him.

"She said she was going to make the beds, but she's on the phone with her sister. She'll be on the phone for at least an hour or two. That's one of her other habits."

"That could be expensive," I commented for the sake of filling in my part of the conversation.

"It is, but I can afford it. Still… Like now, for instance, do you know she's talking to her sister in New York? Long distance! Do you have any idea how much that's going to cost me?"

I had no idea that it was a rhetorical question and I answered that I had no idea. But he wasn't waiting for my response, and he continued as though I hadn't said anything at all: "Plenty! That's how much it's going to cost me. Just plenty."

"You should work for the telephone company," I suggested. "Maybe you could get a discount. What do you do, anyhow?"

"I'm an accountant." He pressed forward a little more, his thigh almost touching the back of my leg. He was leaning on his arm, and he looked almost lopsided.

I moved closer to the sink. "I guess you can afford it then. Accountants make a lot of money, don't they?"