The Case of the Lady in Apartment 308 by Lass Small Read Free Book Online Page A

and he went back to the compound. Then he went on a hike along the road down by the river.
    Ed did nothing productive in that whole day. He was waiting for five o’clock to finally get there. Then he would see if she’d tricked him and had already left the place, or if she wanted to be friendly.
    Actually he wondered if she would speak to him at all…if she was actually there.
    How interesting that he considered her tricking him as plausible. If he felt that way about her, he ought to leave her be and have no contact with her at all. It was dumb to flirt with the knowing of such a woman.
    But Ed waited for time to pass so that he could dress and go to her place. He felt as if he wasn’t being very smart. He had trouble deciding what to wear.
    He didn’t wear a tie. But he wore good brown trousers and a contrasting cream sports jacket. His shirt was brown and so were his excellently shined shoes.
    He was carefully shaven and his after-shave was so subtle that it would take a very friendly woman to even get a hint of it.
    All of it was done with no idea that she would even be there. Or that she would actually accept him as a guest.
    So he drove to the apartment house with no anticipation that he could actually acknowledge. His breathing was quicker only because he’d hurried.
    Hurried? He’d been ready just about the entire day! He parked his car and locked it. But he did go behind the garage and pick a bunch for the blue weed bouquet as he’d planned. He considered it. It, too, would be a test. If she was actually still around.
    Then he went into the very familiar building and up the worn carpeting on the stairs.
    No one was anywhere around. There was a radio playing in an apartment on the second floor. He went on up to the third floor. No one was there, either, and the sounds were those of atmosphere. Nothing.
    He went past the apartment she would have when she finished painting it, and went on to her temporary one.
    That door, too, was still closed. He knocked discreetly. And he listened for footsteps. There was none.
    But the door opened!
    Had she been standing there, watching the clock, waiting?
    She didn’t smile. She looked up at him and said, “Hello.”
    She’d said hello!
    He smiled and restrained the impulse to reply. His smile would do it all. He handed her the blue flowered weeds.
    And she smiled! Her eyes sparkled. She didn’t say anything. But she took them to the table and put them into her water glass.
    The place mats were paper towels, the napkins were paper. The fish was ready to go into the skillet. The other skillet was covered and there was the fragrance of bread being baked…warmed?
    And there was garlic. They were having toasted garlic bread. His mouth reacted with a rush of saliva. As early as it was to eat at five, he was ready.
    Her brown hair was in a knot on top of her head and there were little stray curls by her ears and at the back. She wore no jewelry.
    Who ever heard of a woman who didn’t wear earrings?
    He looked down her. She had on a white silk shirt with the sleeves rolled up, long black trousers, and black slippers.
    She was out of that extralarge, paint-splattered coverall, and she was a lot skinnier than he’d remembered.
    She was really well made. His hunger then was different. And he was still amazed that she hadn’t stood him up.
    She said, “This is the first time I’ve cooked a catfish.”
    He smiled. “It’ll be fine.”
    “There isn’t much damage I can do with the garlic bread.”
    He bit his lower lip to stop his laugh. She’d said several sentences to him. She hadn’t talked that much to him since they’d first met.
    She said, “I have to paint. But your supper will be ready in a minute.”
    He was stunned. He protested, “It’s quitting time. You’re supposed to sit with me and eat with me.”
    “I’m paying you back for taking me fishing.” She could communicate. She knew words.
    He was expansive. “You get half of the fish.”
    “I’m not