Strange Bedpersons Read online

  “Right, Tess, your daughter,” Tess said. “How’s Daniel?”

  “Just fine, darling,” Elise said. “He’s out in the garden now. It’s almost past canning season, but you know your father— he keeps going until the ground is bare. Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine, but I need your help. Listen closely to this because it’s important—do you remember Lanny?”

  “Who?”

  Tess was patient from long practice. “Lanny. Remember at the Yellow Springs commune the man who told the CinderTess story?”

  “Well,” Elise began doubtfully, “yes, maybe...”

  “Big guy, brown hair, brown beard, one summer in Yellow Springs. After he left, you used to read it to me at night, remember?” Tess urged her. “It was on notebook paper. In turquoise fountain pen.”

  “A fairy tale?” Elise said. “With princes and speeches?”

  “Right! Great. Do you still have the manuscript?”

  “Of course not, darling.” Elise said. “That was almost thirty years ago. Why would I still have—”

  “Who would have it?” Tess asked. “This is important, love. Think.”

  “Well, I suppose somebody from the commune might. But really, Tess, you’re making a big thing out of a fairy tale.”

  Tess pulled Nick’s phone directory off the shelf under the phone and flipped to the blank lines on the back page. “I need names and numbers,” she told her mother. “Anybody who might know something about Lanny and the manuscript.”

  “Oh, Tess, I don’t know,” Elise said. “That was a long time ago, and we’re all over everywhere by now.”

  “All right. Start with the names you remember, and if you know where they are now, tell me.”

  Half an hour later, Tess had seventeen names and three numbers and a promise from her mother to try harder to remember the manuscript. “Although I don’t see why, dear,” her mother said. “It seems like a lot of trouble to go to for nostalgia. Especially when there are so many things that need fixing in the present. How did the censorship protest go?”

  “Fine.” Tess briefly contemplated telling her mother about Welch’s plagiarism and then discarded the thought. Elise and Daniel would immediately organize a public protest, and as much as she’d like to see it happen, she had to admit Nick had a point. They had nothing to go on yet but her memories. She needed more people who remembered the story. And she really needed the manuscript. Which meant calling everyone on Elise’s list and asking them if they knew anyone, and then asking those anyones if they knew anyone...

  Nick was going to have some phone bill.

  “I’ll write soon,” Elise was saying. “I want to send you some of Daniel’s jam. It’s really—”

  “Oh, I’ve moved,” Tess said. “My apartment was robbed, and it was too dangerous to stay there. I’m rooming with a friend until I find another place, but you can send anything to this address and I’ll get it.” Tess gave her mother the address and phone number. “I’ll probably be here another week or two at least.”

  “Is this your friend Gina?”

  “No,” Tess said. “This is my friend Nick. The Republican. But it’s okay. I’m not letting him corrupt me.”

  “Ooh, yes. I remember your talking about him. Are you sleeping with him?”

  “Yes,” Tess said.

  “Is he good?”

  Tess rolled her eyes, not really surprised. “Elise, that is no question to ask your daughter.”

  “Of course it is,” Elise said. “Don’t let conventional morality blind you to what’s important in life. A satisfying sex life can be the foundation of a good relationship, and every mother wants her daughter in a good relationship.”

  “With a Republican?”

  “Well, that depends on the man, dear. I met some very enthusiastic Republicans in my youth.”

  “I’m sure you did.”

  “Is he any good?”

  “The earth moves nightly,” Tess said.

  “Well, then, I won’t worry.”

  Five minutes later, Tess extricated herself from her mother’s distracted conversation and called Gina.

  “Hey, where were you this morning?” Tess said when Gina picked up the phone. “I called twice.”

  “I got it!” Gina said.

  “Got what?”

  “The job at the Charles Theater. And it’s not a typing job. It’s a good job. I’m a liaison! I didn’t even know what that meant an hour ago, but Mr. Nordhausen explained it, and I’m going to be talking to people about the theater and making sure stuff gets done. It’s wild! I’ve got a real job!”

  “Gina, that’s wonderful!” Tess sank onto the suede couch, oblivious to the furniture in her relief. “Let’s celebrate. We’ll go out and—”

  “I can’t,” Gina said, her voice growing even more effervescent. “Park’s taking me out! I called him and told him and he was really happy, and he said we should go out and celebrate. We’re even going out tomorrow, too, so I can tell him about my job after the first day!” Her voice dropped a notch. “I probably shouldn’t have called him but—”

  “You called Park already?”

  “I know, I’m pushing it, but I wanted him to know,” Gina said. “We talked about it all weekend, and he told me what to do in the interview and what to wear and everything. I wanted him to know, and he was real happy and said we should go out. And we’re going out!”

  The happiness in Gina’s voice was so blatant that Tess lost her breath. Don’t fall for him, she thought, but all she said was, “That’s wonderful, Gina. When do you start?”

  “Tomorrow!” Gina said. “Can you believe it? Mr. Nordhausen was late at first because he’d been playing racquetball, and he came in all tired. I could tell he wasn’t very keen on me at first, but then we started talking and I actually knew a lot of the theater people he kept mentioning, and by the end of the interview he said he wanted me to start right away— that I was just what the Charles Theater needed, after all.”

  “After all?”

  “Yeah, I thought that was strange, too, but what the hell, I got the job.” Gina’s voice rose even higher. “I did the interview and he liked me and I got the job!”

  Tess laughed at Gina’s enthusiasm. “And you are going to be great at it. You’re the best thing that ever happened to Nordstrom.”

  “Nordhausen,” Gina said. “Hey, where are you? I called your apartment, but the phone company says your phone is dead.”

  “My whole apartment is dead,” Tess said. “It got vandalized. I’m staying with Nick.”

  “Oh,” Gina said. “How’s Nick?”

  “Nick’s fine. The house is a little... well, I guess it’s just not really my kind of house.”

  “Don’t tell me. Let me guess. It’s too expensive and successful-looking. Come on, Tess. Enjoy it.”

  “It’s not that,” Tess said, looking around. “I think you have to see this place to understand. To start with, it’s totally black and white.”

  “No color?”

  “None. I swear, I’m going to dig my old sofa pillows out of my duffel and put them on these couches just so I know I’m not color blind.” With a start she realized she was sitting on the couch and slid to the floor. “Not that I’m ever going to actually sit on the couches.”

  “Why wouldn’t you sit on the couches?”

  “They’re white suede.”

  “You are kidding me.” Gina hooted with laughter. “This I gotta see. Okay, he’s got suede couches. What else is wrong?”

  “Well, nothing. I mean, he’s darling to me, and he makes love like a god, and I’m safe and warm...” She looked around the icy splendor of Nick’s living room. “Well, fairly warm.”

  “You don’t sound sure,” Gina said. “If he was the right guy, you’d be sure.” Her voice sounded sure, and that made Tess’s heart sink. Not Park, she thought. Please, not Park.

  “So let’s get serious about this,” Gina said. “I want you to be happy, too. What are you looking