“Joan Eunice, I told you never to go near Joe. I told you. If this new marriage of his ever stood a chance—yes, intellectually I know that a man should remarry—if it ever did stand a chance, you must have put a horrible strain on it. Too much strain, probably. Uh. . . how did he take it? Badly?”
“Jake, I stayed five days. If it had gone badly, would I have been there even one day? I accomplished the mission; everything is all right.”
Jake looked surprised, then thoughtful. “Hmmm! That’s a one-room studio. . . and if I follow your meaning, you stayed right there the whole five days. My dear, just how did you ‘accomplish your mission’? Or have I no right to ask?”
She looked up at him and spoke seriously. “Jake, I owe you so much that you will always have the right to ask me anything. Including my comings and goings and I should not have given you a snippy answer.” (Didn’t quite tell him he had a right to a truthful answer, did you, Boss honey? Devious little bitch.) (Eunice, I don’t lie to Jake—) (Oh, what a whopper!) (—more than is necessary to his happiness.)
“Jake, I accomplished my mission—I set Joe’s mind at rest about Eunice—through a ‘prayer meeting.’ With Gigi’s utterly necessary help, which is only part of why I feel sure that she’s good for him. But if you mean I offered him a zombie—his dead wife’s reanimated body—I knew that was not the way to do it. Joe hasn’t touched me. Oh, he does touch me now, easily and without strain, the way he might touch his sister.” (Any incest in Joe’s family, twin? I’ve never been sure.) (Oh, shut up!) “He even kisses me the same way. But, Jake—”
“Eh? What, dear?”
“If Joe wanted this body I’m wearing, of course he could have it; I owe him anything I can give him. You see that, don’t you? You agree? Or am I wrong?”
“Uh.. . yes, I agree. But I think it’s well that Joe does not want to. It could be disaster for him…and a terrible strain for you.”
“I know it would be a strain for me. But I would do my best to smile and never let him guess. As it is, I am honored—and relieved—and deeply grateful that Joe has given me his loving friendship instead.” (Okay, Eunice?) (Okay. Now get him off that subject.)
“I’m glad, Eunice.”
“Jake, do we have to stand here, me still in street clothes? I have presents for you—welcome-home presents.” She smiled her best happy-little-girl smile. “Want to see them?”
“Of course I want to see them! And where are my manners, letting you stand? Here, let me seat you and take your cloak. Sherry?”
“Later. Or champagne, to welcome you home. ‘To welcome us both home.” She turned and let him take her cape. He turned to lay it aside and turned back just as she did so, too.
“Holy Cowl”
“Didn’t know you were a Hindu, Jake.” She posed, in graceful and calculated display.
“You wore that all the way across the city? Just paint?”
“Why not, dear? It’s your first present—from Joe to you, sent with his love. I had my cape over it before I left Joe and Gigi’s studio, and then kept it on when I got home—until you unwrapped your ‘present.’ Didn’t want my mobiles to see it, of course.” (Oh, of course, twin—except that Joe let them watch every brush stroke, once Gigi was sure you didn’t mind. Say, Joan, Gigi would go for a Texas Star with Anton and Fred, I feel certain. And Joe would go along; he likes them. What do you think? Easy way to keep your promise to them, huh?)
(Eunice, we’ve got this man on our hands now.) (Oh, poor you. Best way in the world to work up steam with one man is to let your mind rove about other men. You’ve still got some Puritan in you, girl.) (Which Puritan? When? And why didn’t I notice? You can’t mean Jake; he’s Jewish. Speaking of Jake, has he noticed that slight omission in this getup? And why haven’t we been raped?) (I doubt it, his eyeballs are spinning. As for the latter, I have-hopes.)
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