Alarums. Part 12

'Well, you two must be exhausted. Maybe you'd like to freshen up.'

'I could sure use some sleep,' Melanie told her.

'Fine. Why don't you go ahead and get some rest? Do you have your things?'

'Out in the van.'

'Fine. Harrison, why don't you give them a hand with their luggage? I'll get out some clean sheets and towels.'

'Pen, are you staying?' Bodie asked.

'Wella'

'There's no need to rush off,' Joyce said. 'Besides, I'm sure you have a lot of catching up to do with your sister.' Pen hesitated.

'You don't want to be alone,' Bodie told her.

'No, I suppose not.' She nodded to Joyce. 'If you don't mind, I could use a little rack time myself. Rough night.'

'It's all settled, then.' She bobbed her head briskly.

'I'll give you that hand with the bags,' Harrison said. 'No need,' Bodie told him. 'We haven't got much.'

'I guess I'll be on my way, then.'

Bodie expected Joyce to protest. She'd been eager enough to keep everyone else at the house. But she stood up as Harrison rose from the sofa, and said, 'Thanks so much for everything. I don't know what I would've done.'

'Just give me a call if you need me.'

'I will. Thanks again.'

'You'll be going over to see Whit tonight?' he asked.

Joyce nodded.

'Keep me posted.'

'Certainly.'

'I'm sure it'll all turn out fine. Whit's a tough old bird. He won't let a little thing like this keep him down.'

They all said goodbye, and Harrison turned away. Joyce didn't see him to the door.

Joyce poked her head through the bedroom doorway. 'I put some fresh washcloths and towels in the bathroom. If you need anything you can't find, just give a yell.'

'Thank you,' Bodie said.

She left. Bodie continued helping Melanie put clean sheets on the bed. 'Did this used to be your room?' he asked.

'It was. All new furniture, though.'

'Good thing. I bet you didn't have a bed like this.' It was a strange bed, unlike any that Bodie had seen before, a single with a s.p.a.ce beneath it for a second bed. They had rolled out the bottom section, Joyce showing them how to raise it level with the other mattress. 'Nice that she didn't give us any grief about sleeping together.'

'She knows I live with you.'

'Still, some peoplea'

'She isn't my mother.'

'She seems nice.'

Melanie raised an eyebrow. Removing a leather toilet kit from her suitcase, she said, 'Back in a minute.'

Bodie sat on the bed. He rubbed his face. He felt vague and a little nauseous. Sleep would take care of that. And sleep would be a welcome release from having to face all this. A lot was going on. More than he wanted to think about.

Melanie came back.

'Do you have to use the john?' she asked.

'Yeah.'

'It's at the end of the hall.'

He got up slowly and crouched over his suitcase to take out his toothbrush and paste.

'When you go by,' Melanie told him, 'take a peek into the master bedroom.'

He did as she asked. In the bathroom, he brushed the fuzz off his teeth, washed his face and used the toilet. Then he returned.

Melanie shut the door. 'Did you see the bed?'

'Yeah. Something special about it?'

'It wasn't made.'

'No.' The covers and top sheet had been left in a messy heap near the foot of the bed. 'So?'

'So who used it? More to the point, when?'

'I don't know.'

'Guess.'

Bodie sat down and pulled his shoes off. Getting out of his shoes felt wonderful. He hadn't been aware of how hot and cramped his feet had been. 'It doesn't have to be that. Joyce and your father might've been using it before they took off for the restaurant.'

'I doubt it.'

He peeled off his damp socks, and sighed. 'Or maybe Joyce took a nap after she got home from the hospital.'

'She came back with Harrison. They used that bed last night. Joyce and Harrison. Dad's bed.'

Wearily, Bodie shook his head. 'And she just left the bed messed up for all to see?'

'She didn't know we'd show up.'

'She wouldn't have left it like that. Not if she'd been s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g around with Harrison. Even if she didn't make the bed right away, she would've found some excuse to get up here and fix it after we arrived. Or at least close the door.'

'Not necessarily.'

Bodie shrugged. 'If you say so,' he said, taking off his shirt. 'But I think she would've made some effort to cover up, don't you?'

'You'd think so.'

He unfastened his pants, stood and pulled them down along with his shorts. He stepped out of them and climbed between the smooth, cool sheets.

h.e.l.l, he thought, they probably did. A rotten d.a.m.n thing to do, but they probably did. Maybe they'd been at each other behind Whit's back for a long time. Or Joyce just needed comfort, last night, and Harrison had obliged.

Melanie took off her blouse. She left her bra on. Her small b.r.e.a.s.t.s, the dark flesh of her nipples, showed through the transparent fabric.

And Bodie remembered Pen in the van, the gap between her b.u.t.tonholes, the shadowy glimpse of her breast.

He felt a warm stir. The sheet began to rise between his legs, so he rolled onto his side.

Melanie unfastened her pants.

'You know,' Bodie said, 'Pen invited us to stay with her.'

'She doesn't have room.'

'She has a good-sized bed. She offered to use the couch.'

'Pen wouldn't be very comfortable on a couch.' Melanie draped her blouse and pants over the back of a chair. She faced Bodie. 'I suppose you wanted us to stay with her.'

'She's your sister. And I'm a little surprised you'd want to be under the same roof with Joyce, the way you feel about her.'

'Maybe I want to keep an eye on her.'

'I doubt if she'll be boffing Harrison with us in the house.'

'The b.i.t.c.h.' Melanie removed her bra and panties. Wearing only her velvet choker, she stepped to the foot of the bed. Bodie watched her crawl over the mattress, pull back the blanket and sheet, and cover herself. She lay on her back, staring at the ceiling.

'I think Pen really wants us to stay with her,' he said. 'Then she should've spoken up.'

'She'd already made the offer.'

'We would've been tripping over each other.'

'Haven't you forgotten something?'

'More than likely.'

'The telephone calls.'

'Big deal. A few dirty calls.'

'They were a big deal to your sister. I think she's frightened, and I don't blame her. I'd be nervous about staying there alone, if I were her.'

Melanie's head turned. She stared at him across the joining beds. 'You just want to see her in a nightie.'

'There's that, too,' he said, and smiled.

Melanie didn't smile.

Bodie scooted across the bed and kissed her. He whispered, 'Sleep tight,' then rolled over and shut his eyes.

Waking up, Pen lifted her face off the warm pocket of the pillow. She felt wonderful. Then she saw where she was and remembered her father. A dark heaviness spread through her.

He'll be all right, she told herself.

We'll see him tonight.

And Melanie's here. Thank G.o.d Melanie's here. Going through this alone would've been so much worse. Maybe Dad'll be better when we see him.

She pushed herself up and sat on the edge of the bed. She had slept in her clothes. Her slick, burgundy blouse was twisted around her torso. The weight of her body had pressed wrinkles into it. She straightened it, but the wrinkles remained.

Maybe Bodie would drive her to her apartment so she could change before going to the hospital.

The apartment. The phone calls.

Fear began to knot her. She tried to push it aside. That business doesn't count, she told herself. Not with Dad in the hospital.

But the fear grew.

Pen quickly stood up. In front of the bureau mirror, she brushed her hair. Then she left the room and hurried downstairs. The living room was empty, but voices came from the den. As she approached, she heard Bodie speaking over the quiet dialogue from the television.

'a a PhD in English literature. Which is probably a totally useless thing to have, but I fancy myself as a slightly eccentric professor in a patched jacketa' He smiled at Pen as she entered. He was slumped in an armchair, feet crossed at the ankles, one hand holding a Corona beer against his belt buckle.

Joyce, on the couch, was sipping a gla.s.s of white wine. 'Don't stop,' Pen said to Bodie.

'All through,' he told her.

'You plan to be an English professor?'