Desperate Measures (15 page)

“Tenish. We can stay overnight if you want.”

“I'll leave it up to you. How's Fairy Tales coming?”

“They're putting the new ceiling up as we speak, and the floor is scheduled to go down tomorrow. The hopscotch floor is so bright it boggles your mind. The cubby departments go in next week. Saturday will be a good time to match up the paints with the floor. If they're off even a bit in the color, they won't look right. I want this to be perfect, a one-of-a-kind store. Someday, I hope to have a chain of them, and then I can invest all my profits with you.”

“On that happy thought, I'll leave you. I have to go to a meeting. I'll come by around nine-thirty. Scruffy clothes, right?”

“Right.”

Maddie sighed. She always felt good when she spoke to her friend Janice. Janice was real, a part of her youth, part of her old life.

On her walk over to the corner of Third Avenue and Forty-sixth Street, Maddie ran her bank balance over in her mind. Money was going out faster than it was coming in. The high rent she was going to be paying every month petrified her, even though Pete's negotiation with the landlord, who was a friend, had reduced it. The decorations, the built-ins, were custom-made. Possibly another mistake. But Pete seemed to have money to burn, so why was she worrying?

In the beginning, her plan was to open a little children's store that sold one-of-a-kind clothing, mostly handmade. When she'd told Pete about it, he'd moved like a whirling dervish, arranging things, taking charge, giving her input every hour of the day. It was nothing for him to call her from Germany in the middle of the night with an idea for Fairy Tales, saying it was the kid in him and when possible he wanted to work in the store on Saturdays so he could play with the toys and the children.

As she waited for a traffic light to change, she winced when she thought about the loan the Small Business Administration had denied her. Pete had jumped right in and offered the financing, a loan so large she still couldn't comprehend the numbers. When she incorporated, she'd offered, hesitantly, to put the business in both names, but Pete had said no, this was her business and the loan was a straightforward business deal. With lawyers and everything. Plus bills from said lawyers. The clock was already ticking, and she was nervous. Pete just smiled confidently, saying he believed in her and what she was trying to do. “
Fairy Tales Can Come True
.” She planned to play the song, sung by Frank Sinatra, in the background once the store opened.

Maddie felt a rush of goose bumps on her arms when she reached the entrance to her three-thousand square feet of store space. The new door was up. A pristine white Dutch door. She giggled. A Dutch door on Madison Avenue. Mother Goose, Cinderella ...

She'd gotten the idea for Fairy Tales years ago when she visited California. Quite by chance, on her way to Stallion Springs to visit a friend, she'd stopped in a quaint bookstore in Tehachapi. She remembered how stunned she was to see a circle of children gathered around a burning fireplace, mothers in chairs sipping herbal teas, while a woman named Chelley Kitzmiller read fairy tales to the children. She'd walked around the store on tiptoe, marveling at the little compartments where adults browsed and older children played with toys geared to the learning process. Little racks of handmade ruffled smocks for serious crafts were tacked on a pegboard. Everything was for sale, from books to smocks to lace-edged socks and pinafores.

Miss Chelley, as the children called her, said her bookstore was a gathering place. A homey place for friends and neighbors and first-time customers. The only problem, Miss Chelley said, was that she no longer had any first-time customers. Repeat customers made for success. Maddie had carried that scene, that conversation, around with her for years, knowing someday she'd put it all to good use.

In a way, it was a dream of hers to own something of her own, to be solely responsible for the success or failure of her own business. She crossed her fingers that her homey, comfortable, upscale, pricey store would be a success.

Maddie walked around her cluttered domain, tramping in sawdust and Sheetrock dust, marveling at the hanging wires, the exposed pipes for the plumbing, the new windows that had grids in them now, à la Hansel and Gretel. She brushed at the Sheetrock dust building up in the fine hairs on her arms. She had to get out of here before she choked to death. The catalogs, the order blanks, her thick file with the names of various tradespeople under her arm, she left the store, but not before she stood back to admire the double Dutch doors.

And it was all hers.

 

“This house is gorgeous,” Maddie said, her voice tinged with awe. “This . . . this is ...”

“Ritzy.” Janice giggled. “I love Tudors. If the key is in the mailbox like the realtor said, then this is the house. I wonder how much it costs. Did Pete tell you?”

“Seven hundred fifty big ones. It's so ...
big
. I'll need a gardener, maybe two.” Her voice was full of elation.

“Take a look around this neighborhood,” Janice said. “Everything is pruned and mowed to perfection. The chances of a bunch of husbands creating this look is about one in a million. Two gardeners,” Janice concluded positively.

Maddie reached into the wooden mailbox for the key, then held it up. “This is it.”

“Maddie, do you have any idea how very lucky you are? You have a sweet guy who loves you, a guy who is helping you financially with your business and now this house. This is a long way from the Bronx, Maddie.”

“Janny,” Maddie said, using the childhood nickname she'd given her friend in kindergarten, “I'm scared, but in some cockamamy way, I'm elated too. Yesterday when Pete left, I had this awful feeling something was going to go wrong. I haven't been able to shake it off.”

“Oh, Maddie, I think it's the forty-five days that's bothering you. Pete's trips are usually shorter. A month and a half is a long time. What could possibly go wrong? Nothing, that's what!”

Janice stepped into a tiled foyer. “Maddie, this is soooo gorgeous.” She moved beyond, to the sunken living room, and gasped. “Look at the fireplace! It goes all the way to the ceiling.” Her eyes popping, she said, “You can stand up inside the opening. I bet you could roast a whole pig in there.”

“It's going to take so much furniture. I love buying furniture. I'll be able to shop for days. Pete said I can buy whatever I want. Money's no object. Can you believe that, Janny? I can't wait to move out of that crummy apartment on Forty-ninth Street. Still, I do love Manhattan.”

“This is so perfect,” Janny said, only half listening. “Pete's going to want to entertain. So will you once you start dealing with all those people you're doing business with. I would kill for this, Maddie. God, you are so lucky. Let's look at the kitchen. I love kitchens.”

“That's because you're a good cook. I'm lucky I can boil eggs and water. I'm a whiz at opening cans and boxes, though,” Maddie said ruefully. “I'm going to get a cook and a housekeeper.”

“Just think, you'll get off the train, your housekeeper will pick you up at the train station, you'll waltz in here, she'll have a drink waiting and your dinner all set out. She'll do all the laundry, the dusting, and all that junk. All you'll have to worry about is keeping Pete happy and running Fairy Tales. It's the perfect scenario. Everyone lives happily ever after, just like in a fairy tale.”

“Do you think Pete will balk at a cook, housekeeper, and two gardeners?”

“That's Pete's problem. He's the provider,” Janny said airily.

“The commute is going to be a killer. Retailing is a killer too,” Maddie said, her eyes wild.

Janice ignored her comments. “Jeez, would you look at this kitchen. I've never seen anything like it, even in magazines.”

“A contractor built it for himself. His wife left him and ran off with the electrician who wired the house. Pete told me that. The house has never been lived in. Everything is custom-made.”

“Maddie, loosen up and think about how you're going to make love to Pete in front of that gorgeous fireplace. Lord, the carpet alone is thicker than a down comforter. These cabinets are cherrywood. This center island is beautiful, and those cedar beams . . . oh, Maddie, you'll be so happy boiling water. Look at those Tiffany lamps hanging over the bar area! The wraparound window in the breakfast room is gorgeous. You need to get colored place mats, the kind with fringes. Cottage curtains with the same color tiebacks as the place mats. Why do you suppose the contractor's wife ran off with the electrician? I'd never give this up.”

Maddie snorted. “Because she was stupid. The electrician offered her love, and that was more important than this house. She's probably living in the Bronx in a six-floor walk-up.”

“This floor is real brick, laid one by one. That costs,” the ever practical Janice said. “Picture the kitchen with copper pots that shine and loads of green plants in clay pots. Use your imagination, Maddie.”

“I'm going to hire a decorator. I want the best. Let's go check out the bathroom and bedrooms. There'd better be one with its own bath for you. We'll decorate it together for when you come up to visit on weekends.”

“Oh, Maddie, that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me.” Janny hugged her friend. “I'll bring wine and cheese like they do in the movies. We'll always be friends, won't we, Maddie?”

“Of course we will. You're better than a sister, Janny.”

“I feel the same way.”

Arm in arm the two friends climbed through the deep pile on the stairs to the second floor. “Look, Maddie, you can look down into the living room. It's wonderful,” Janny gushed.

“A sunken tub. It has two steps!” Maddie said in awe. “It's a whirlpool. Big enough for four people. My God!”

“This is luxury. You can decorate this bathroom with any color you want. This sandy beige tile will go with any color.”

“Six bedrooms, two with fireplaces. White carpet,” Maddie said, moving from one room to the next. “Take your pick, Janny.”

“This one. Oooh, it has a sunken tub too. Who's going to bring in the firewood?”

“Our butler.” Maddie burst out laughing. “You can keep clothes here and everything. That way, you can leave right from the office and take the train here and not have to worry about your things. Maybe our housekeeper will serve us breakfast in bed.”

“Now you're getting the hang of it,” Janny said, dropping to the floor. She hugged her knees and stared dreamily out the window. “You love Pete, don't you, Maddie?”

Maddie sat down next to her friend. “I still can't believe he loves me. I'm just ordinary. He's so . . . so worldly, so educated, so ... different.”

“Are you putting yourself down, Maddie Stern? Because if you are, I'm going to slap you. It's Pete Sorenson who's the lucky one to have found you. Don't you ever forget it either,” Janny said loyally.

“Okay, I won't. You're a good friend, Janny.”

“Now that we have that all sorted out, let's check the garden, the pool, that four-car garage with the apartment on top, and then go get some lunch. Does it have a pool house?”

“Pete said it does. It has indoor plumbing so you don't have to come into the house to use the bathroom. Since neither you nor I know how to swim, I suggest we gloss over the pool area.”

“We're going to learn to swim. All you have to do is tie Clorox bottles to your upper arms and you can swim.” Janny giggled. “I saw that on television.”

“After you learn, I'll give it a try. I could really go for a big, juicy hamburger with lots and lots of onions and a slice of tomato. A big plate of greasy french fries and a strawberry sundae for dessert.”

“You are a kind friend, Maddie. I'll leave the tip.”

“We have to stop by the realtor, drop off the key and leave a binder check. I guess I have to sign on the dotted line or something like that.”

“I'm happy for you, Maddie. You deserve this and more,” Janny said, hugging her friend.

A light, misty rain was falling when Maddie dropped off Pete's car at the underground garage. Steam rose from the sidewalk. It seemed cooler in Connecticut. That would be a plus in the summer. The only problem was, she'd be spending her days here in the city.

Tillie greeted her the moment she opened the door. In the blink of an eye the cat was in her arms, nuzzling her neck and purring loudly. “Missed me, huh? Well, how about some salmon and some nice warm milk. I'll put a scoop of ice cream in it, and we'll never tell Dr. Lowe we did it, okay? She thinks cats shouldn't have milk or ice cream. What does she know, she's just a vet,” Maddie said, cuddling the cat. She rambled on and on as she prepared Tillie's dinner.

While the cat ate, Maddie made a pot of coffee. She was pouring the cream into her cup when the phone rang.

“Pete!” she cried happily. “Where are you? ... Tokyo! Did you walk down the Ginza? ... Is it warm there? It's sweltering here . . . Tillie misses you, but not as much as I do ... I love the house. I can probably get used to a live-in housekeeper and cook. We need two gardeners. I don't have a green thumb . . . I love you too, Pete. I'm counting the days too . . . Janny went with me. She's going to help me paint the woodwork at Fairy Tales next weekend . . . No, I won't forget my gum surgery . . . What kind of present?” She laughed. “You're tormenting me, Pete . . . No, I absolutely will not kiss Tillie for you. No, no, no ... Oh, all right, but only because I can't say no to you. When will you call me again? . . . 'Night, Pete. I know it's morning there, but it's eight o'clock here. I love you.”