Страница 21 из 90
The noises started as soon as she slipped back into bed.
JOE HAD TOprepare for a health department inspection at work, so he was long gone when the contractor, Ken Brasso, arrived at seven thirty in the morning with two Latino workers, Fernando and William. Eve would have offered coffee and had a cup herself—God knew she needed caffeine after having had almost no sleep—but Joe had forgotten to dig up the coffeemaker and the fresh-ground dark roast she’d bought last Friday at Whole Foods, was that too much to ask? She apologized about the coffee, finishing with a little laugh that left her feeling awkward. She did have the Fresca, which all three men politely declined.
Eve had been anxious about the floors and was gratified to see Fernando and William working with care as they laid tarps in the hall and master bedroom. After covering the beds, dresser, and armoire, they taped thick plastic over the frame of the door co
“There’s go
Ken, short and compact and in his late forties, had come highly recommended by her parents’ friends, the Bergers, for whom he had recently done a kitchen remodel. The Bergers had left Ken and his crew alone in their house for months and trusted them without reservation. Eve could, too. She would have liked to watch the demolition, but the drive to the school on West Pico would take at least twenty-five minutes. She did hear the first thunks as she was leaving and felt a rush of excitement as she pictured hammers attacking the godawful wallpaper and cracked tiles.
At work she made Memorial Day projects with the fourteen children in her class. She loved her kids, each one adorable and inquisitive. She loved sharing stories about them with Joe, who was a great listener and would be a great father. Once or twice her mind slipped to the house on Bellaire, and she wondered how the work was progressing. Throughout the day she found herself yawning. During nap time she was tempted to lie down on one of the tiny cots, just for a few minutes. Of course, she couldn’t.
When Eve returned home, she was pleased to see the Dumpster in the driveway filled with debris. Stepping into the house, she was greeted by a lively Hispanic tune that she traced to the boom box on the floor of the master bath, now an empty shell. Fernando and William were removing the tarps from the beds and furniture. The music was loud, and they didn’t notice her arrival. When they did, they smiled at her. A coating of dust had whitened both men’s hair and eyebrows, and William’s moustache.
Eve smiled back and patted her head. “Mucho polvo.”A lot of dust.
Fernando nodded and stooped his shoulders. “Sí, sí. Somos bien viejos.”We are very old.
Both men laughed, and Eve joined in, brimming with goodwill and happiness.
Ken took pride in giving Eve an update. They had replaced the warped plywood and joists. They had installed the drain assembly in the shower and poured mortar onto the wire mesh layered over the tar paper.
“See that?” Ken pointed to the grayish-brown mud on the shower bottom. “No dips, no humps. The slope is perfect. Water will flow right down to the drain. That’s what you want.”
“Wonderful,” Eve said, thinking Joe would be more interested in the details than she was. The moist, earthy smell of the mortar was making her a little nauseated.
“Tomorrow we frame the window and put in cement backer board for the wall tiles. Moisture won’t affect it, so it’s great for bathrooms. Then the floor tiles. Cabinets, countertop, and faucets are last. And you’ve got yourself a beautiful new bathroom.”
Eve smiled. “I can’t wait.”
She and Joe had enjoyed selecting the materials: white marble for the walls and floors with accents of one-inch green glass tiles above the sink; polished chrome trim for the sink, Jacuzzi tub, and shower faucets; dark brown cabinets; white marble for the countertop. A spa in their own home.
“One thing.” A note of warning had entered Ken’s voice. “That mortar’s solid, but don’t step on it, not even tomorrow. It’ll be hardened, but still soft enough to be easily chipped or gouged with just about anything hard enough to do damage.”
“The shower is off-limits,” Eve promised.
“Thursday, we put in the shower pan liner and the second layer of mud. When that’s dry, we install the marble. You ordered extra, right? Like I said, you have to allow for breakage.”
TUESDAY NIGHT THEscratching was more persistent. Eve hated waking Joe. He was still tired from lugging furniture and boxes and a long day at work, where a patient had been missing for hours, right in the middle of inspection. After fifteen minutes she couldn’t stand one more second of the noise. “Poor baby,” Joe murmured, “try to get some sleep.” Which pissed her off, because it wasn’t as though she weren’t trying, for God’s sake. Minutes later he was snoring, his arm still around her, his breath a little rank as it tickled her cheek. She loosened his arm and nudged him until he was lying on his back. Turning onto her stomach, she pressed her pillow against her ears. No relief. In the living room, she rummaged through several boxes before she found cotton balls that she fashioned into earplugs. Months earlier, pla
The noises came back.
The scratching had been replaced by a whooshed exhalation that formed a word, heave, whispery at first, then gaining in volume. Heave, heave, heave, heave.And something was hovering over her face, pressing against her body, solid and warm and—
Eve.That was what she heard, Eve. Joe calling her name, Eve, dear Joe, he felt bad for her, or maybe he wanted her, which was fine, she couldn’t sleep anyway. Smiling, she raised her arms and embraced air. She opened her eyes. He was lying on his back, fast asleep. Thanks for the concern, Joe.
The voices were louder now, sharper. Not Eve, she realized with a start, not heave.
Leave.
That was it. Leave. Leave. Leave.
Oh God, Eve thought, lying rigid with fear on the bed, what was happening? Ohgodohgodohgod.
At some point, when the first hint of daylight began tinting the gray walls green, the noises stopped. Eve slept. At five forty-five her alarm rang. She slammed the snooze button. Fifteen minutes later the alarm rang again. She slammed the button again. Joe, ru
When she entered the breakfast nook a half hour later, Joe was sitting at the table reading the Times, a large mug in his hand. He put down the mug and pulled out a chair for her.
“Hey.” He smiled. “I picked up doughnuts for Ken and his guys, like you asked, babe. They’re on the counter. I found the coffeemaker andthe coffee. Plus two mugs, hot cups, plastic spoons, and paper plates. I think you’re set.”
“Congratulations. I’ll submit your name to the Nobel committee.”
He ignored her sarcasm and patted the chair. “Sit. I’ll pour you a cup of coffee. You’ll feel better, I promise. The coffee’s pretty good, I have to say.” He rose and took a step toward the kitchen.
“I’m glad you’re all sunshine and joy. I slept an hour. One hour.Coffee isn’t going to fix that.”
“I’m so sorry, babe.”
“I could pack all our stuff in the bags under my eyes. I look like crap, Joe. I feellike crap. There was almost no water coming out of the damn showerhead, and what did tinkle out was lukewarm.”