“I’ll put the garland and lights on it if you like.”
“Would you, Sweets? Sorry, Theo? Thanks. That’ll be a big help. I’ll tell Sable to leave the lights and garland out.” She yawned again. “I’ve got to crash. I was a birthday present for a virgin last night, and what he didn’t have in staying power, he more than made up for in recovery time.”
I remembered my own virgin. He had plenty of staying power. Except when I talked of taking him bareback. Then he went off like a firecracker, and I was smugly proud of that.
I knew we’d never make love without a condom, but I could dream.
And almost every night I dreamed that he was home.
* * * *
I went back to the same Christmas tree lot. In spite of tying me out of my car, they’d sold me a beautiful tree, and they did again. And this time I made sure the door was open when the tree was tied to the roof.
No one was parked in front of the house, so I steered the Corvair to the curb, swearing under my breath when I jumped it. I cut the wheel to the left, and the driver of a car passing by leaned on his horn and flipped me off.
“Son of a bitch!” Well, fuck it. I’d leave the car where it was until I unloaded the tree. I turned off the engine, got out, and tugged on the cord that kept the blue spruce in place.
I dragged it up the steps to the front door and propped it up until I could get my house key out. I dropped the car keys, and when I bent down to pick them up, the tree fell.
What the fuck? I’d have thought it was Friday the thirteenth, but it wasn’t Friday, and it wasn’t the thirteenth.
I unlocked the door, retrieved the car keys, and wrestled the tree into the front foyer. “Stupid tree,” I muttered at it. “Stop giving me such a hard time.”
And of course I didn’t have the first floor door key on my ring. I left the tree where it was and ran up to the third floor, out of breath by the time I reached my apartment. Jesus, was I getting soft? I pinched the skin at my waist. Was I putting on weight? I couldn’t take any chances. I’d kept myself in shape all these years so I would be attractive to my clients. And while Wills wasn’t a client, I still wanted his mouth to go dry and his fingers to twitch with the need to touch me whenever he saw me.
I poked my gut. It seemed firm enough, but as soon as I was done with the tree, I’d head to the gym.
I let myself into my apartment and huffed my way to my office. On one of the walls was a small, glass-fronted cabinet. Inside it were a series of hooks, and above each hook was a label describing what the key that hung from it was for. Wills had done that for me too, after I’d torn apart the junk drawer in the kitchen looking for the garage door key and had exploded in a rare burst of temper.
After that, he’d not only put up the cabinet, but he’d installed an automatic garage door opener on one of his infrequent days off.
I took out the key for the first floor door, stopped in the bedroom to change into my ratty jeans, and ran back downstairs. Going down didn’t leave me as out of breath, but I was still determined to go to the gym.
I let myself into the foyer and headed for the large living room. The ladies had really been on the ball. The stand for the tree was set up on a skirt in front of the bay window. I’d shed my jacket upstairs, and now I went to do battle with the tree once more. I got it into the living room and then realized I needed a knife to whittle the trunk to fit into the stand.
The last thing I wanted to do was use one of my chef’s knives, but might Wills have a knife in the tool belt he kept in the chest at the foot of the bed? If he didn’t, I’d have to go down to the basement, which I tried to avoid doing at all costs. Even with the light on, it was dark down there.
Fortunately, I found a pruning hook knife among Wills’s tools. And while I was in our apartment, it occurred to me I’d need some newspaper to put under the tree while I removed some of the trunk, so I took a few sheets from the recycling bin we kept paper in, and once again I ran down the stairs.
With everything in readiness, it only took about ten minutes to prepare the tree. I sliced off the netting that held the branches in place, hoisted the tree up, and maneuvered it into the stand. It would need about six quarts of water, and I had to make a few trips to the wet bar, which was closer than the kitchen, but finally it was ready for the lights and garland.
The ladies really were tidy. The lights were on a spool, and they’d been wound from the bottom to the top, so they were ready to be placed at the top of the tree. I plugged them in first to make sure all the bulbs would light, and then I put them around the tree. I was tall enough that I didn’t have to go hunting up a ladder or stepstool.
With that done, I wove the red tinsel garlands through the branches, and then stepped back to admire my handiwork. I had done an amazing job, if I said so myself.
I wrapped the netting and wood chips in the newspaper and let myself out, and after I got rid of everything in the trashcan off the drive, I went up, cleaned and put away Wills’s knife, and poked my gut again.
Yeah, I’d better go to the gym. I changed, grabbed up my gym bag, and headed out.