Strange Bedpersons Read online

  They fell back into the rhythm they found each time, and she felt herself winding tighter under him, felt herself about to explode, and then he stopped moving and put his hand over her mouth. She blinked in confusion.

  “Mr. Jamieson?” Mrs. Tate called up the stairs for what was clearly the second time.

  Tess’s spurt of laughter was smothered under Nick’s hand. “Yes?” he called back, giving Tess a warning glare that dissolved into a grin.

  “Did you find the player piano?”

  “Yes,” Nick said. He was trying to keep his voice steady and Tess sympathized, she really did, but he was hard inside her and she couldn’t bear it. She began to move against him, and he closed his eyes.

  “Shall I come up and turn it on for you?”

  “No,” Nick said. “Thank you, no. I’ll do it.”

  Tess peeled his hand from her mouth. “The switch is on the left side of the keyboard,” she breathed in his ear. “And then, if you don’t mind, please, I think I could come if you’d get a move on.” She rocked against him again and her voice broke. “I was really close before you stopped to chat.”

  “I have lost my mind,” Nick whispered in her ear. “And it’s your fault. But what the hell.” He reached his arm over the keyboard, fumbling for the switch, and she shuddered as he shifted inside her. Then the piano leapt to life playing the Minute Waltz and Tess laughed out loud and Nick rocked against her until everything came free inside her and all her worries went out into the universe with any other rational thought she might have had.

  “That was incredible,” she told him later, when they were curled up in bed together. “That was the best.”

  “I knew I should have told Christine to get me knee pads.” Nick winced as he stretched out his legs under the covers. “I’m too damn old for this.”

  “Ha,” Tess said, and set about convincing him that he wasn’t.

  Chapter Ten

  The next day Tess stomped past Pamela the receptionist to poke her head into Gina’s office, meaning to stay only long enough to find out if Gina was still all right and still oblivious to Park’s two-timing. She waved to her, and Gina, listening to somebody on the phone, waved back.

  “I’ve only got fifteen minutes until the next bus,” Tess whispered. “I just stopped by to tell you...”

  But Gina motioned her in, and Tess gave the next bus up for lost and sat down in the chair across from Gina’s desk.

  “Thank you very much, Mr. Edelstein. I’m sure that will be satisfactory,” Gina said in the well-modulated tones of an evening news anchor.

  Tess gaped.

  “Certainly. I’ll be looking forward to that. Until then.” Gina hung up and turned to Tess. “So what’s new with you?”

  “With me? When did you turn into Diane Sawyer?”

  “The voice or the suit?” Gina asked, and Tess realized that Gina’s usual black jersey separates were now lipstick red wool-crepe separates.

  “My God. What happened to you?” Tess asked, staring at Gina’s clothes.

  “I’m taking voice lessons,” Gina said. “I never had a speaking part, so I never needed them before now.”

  “And now you’ve got a speaking part?” Tess said grimly. “Like playing Park’s girlfriend?”

  “This isn’t Park’s idea,” Gina said. “I was gonna...going to do this, anyway. It’s important in my job. I spend a lotta... lot of time on the phone. I need this.”

  “And the suit? That helps you on the phone, too?”

  Gina stroked the rich fabric of the sleeve. “Park bought me the suit. He said he liked me in black, but he bet I looked spectacular in red. So we picked it out together. It was so much fun.”

  “I bet,” Tess said, consigning Park to the lowest level of hell for trying to stifle his guilt with his checkbook.

  “Is it bad that I let him buy it?” Gina asked. “I love this suit. I wanted this suit. It’s not like he’s keeping me.” She stuck out her chin. “And I do look spectacular in red. I don’t know why I didn’t dress in colors before.”

  “You look great,” Tess said quietly.

  Gina slumped back in her chair. “You don’t think I should have taken the suit.”

  “No,” Tess said. “That suit is none of my business. I was just thinking how much Nick would love it if I loved the clothes he bought me the way you love that suit. I didn’t tell you, did I? He did it again. Like that black dress. Only this time he stole my sweats and replaced them with these silk jersey things that slither. I told him not to, and he just patted me and now he keeps on doing it. My jeans are DKNY, my sweaters are all crewneck cashmere Ralph Lauren and my nightgowns are LaPerla.” Tess made a face. “It’s like Invasion of the Body Snatchers. The stuff is beautiful, but it isn’t me. Every time he does it, I tell him not to, and he just laughs and says I looked sexy in the new stuff.”

  “So relax and enjoy it,” Gina said.

  “Gina, I don’t like the clothes he buys me. I’m not being politically correct. I hate the clothes. Crewnecks make me itch and I like sleeping in old T-shirts. They’re comfortable. And I hate the way the damn house is decorated— it’s like a meat locker with rugs. And I hate the Opera Guild. And I’ve been trying to be a good sport about all of it, but being a good sport is taking up all my time.”

  “So? What else have you got to do with your time?”

  “Find Lanny,” Tess said, and Gina groaned. “Listen, I’ve been making phone calls right and left and I finally got a great lead. One of Elise’s friends from the commune told me that another of the commune members willed all his papers to the University of Riverbend library, and his papers included an oral history of the commune by different people who lived there in the sixties. I mean, this is a hot lead. I’ve been planning to go over there, but I’ve put it off every night so I could go with Nick to the theater or to dinner with Welch or to the River Clean-up Dinner, or to the Opera Guild open house or some other damn thing.” Tess stared at her friend miserably. “The smartest thing I could do is move out, but then I’m afraid we wouldn’t ever see each other because we’re both so busy and we’d never make love on a piano again.”

  “I think I missed a step,” Gina said. “About the piano.”

  “That’s another thing that worries me,” Tess slumped down miserably in her chair. “I’m starting to change. For example, I really thought conventional sex would be boring.”

  “Conventional sex?”

  “You know, in a bedroom at night with the door locked. Missionary position. Lights off.”

  “Go on,” Gina said. “I’m trying to follow this. Nick likes the missionary position?”

  “Nick likes all the positions, as often as possible. Which is pretty fantastic, when you come to think about it.”

  “Good,” Gina said. “What’s the part about the lights off?”

  “That was an exaggeration. But he prefers sex in a bed. He’s happier in a bed. He prefers a bed.”

  “So do I,” Gina said. “My back doesn’t hurt, and I can roll over and go to sleep without having to move around.”

  “Well, that’s the problem,” Tess said. “As much as I hate to admit it, so do I. I mean, the other stuff is exciting, but it doesn’t last as long because of the risk, and I don’t get to touch him as much, and I’m really starting to prefer bedroom sex.”

  “This is not a problem.”

  “Yes, it is,” Tess said. “I’m getting conventional. I’m losing my edge. I’m changing.”

  Gina scowled at her. “Will you stop it? You’re not changing. Now, about this piano. Where exactly was it?”

  “The Opera Guild open house.”

  Gina sat up straight. “Are you nuts?”

  “You know, you sound a lot like Nick.”

  “There wasn’t even a door on that room.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Park took me on my lunch hour yesterday.” Gina slumped back again. “I can’t believe you lured that man onto that piano. He must be crazy abou