"You were expecting Santa Claus?"
"How did you get here?"
"You invited me."
"I did? Well, yes, I did. I mean I told you that you were welcome in my bed, quite a while back. But where's Jake? Did he go to sleep on us? And what about Winnie?" She thumbed on the floor lights, saw that she was, as she was beginning to suspect, in her own bed.
"Winnie's next door. In her bed. With Jake."
"Good God, Roberto—I've finally spent a night with you. And don't remember it." (I do! Whee.') (Well, I don't, Eunice, Not in detail. Confused.) (You're a drunken little bitch, Boss. But we had fun.) (I'm sure we did. I wish I remembered it.)
Dr. Garcia sighed. "Ah, well. I should not complain."
"It's coming back to me," she lied. "Just disoriented as I woke up. You were especially sweet to me."
"You didn't think so when I wouldn't let you go to bed with your makeup on."
Joan allowed enough general illumination to come on to let her see herself, noted that the star sequins were gone as well as body paint they had adhered to. She had not scrubbed it off herself; ergo, someone else had. Not Winnie—Winnie had been potted as a palm. "That's part of what I meant by ‘especially sweet', Roberto. Not many men would take such good care of a drunken wench. Was I hard to handle?"
"Not really. But you were pretty tight."
"Too tight?"
"Not too tight. Just pleasantly so."
"I'm not sure I understand that and don't think I want to. Roberto darling, even if I did fuss over it, thank you for washing me. Only a slut leaves paint on when she goes to bed. I'm a tart but I don't want to be a slut." (Hi, slut!) "And thank you most of all for a wonderfully sweet night. I hope I wasn't too drunk to make it sweet for you, too."
"Eunice, you would be more woman passed out cold than most can manage at their best."
"I'm glad you said ‘would be' rather than ‘are.' But, Roberto, I'm uneasy. Not about you and me, dear, but about Winnie. Does this affect that thought you've been considering? About Winnie, I mean."
"On the contrary, Eunice, it was Winnie's idea—her notion of how to celebrate our engagement—"
"Wait a moment! Am I engaged to you?"
"Eh? No, no—I'm engaged to Winnie."
"Oh. Roberto, I would happily marry you, you would make a numero-uno espöso. But I don't need one, and Winnie does. Did I know this last night? About you two?"
"You seemed to. You said that was why you wouldn't wait to scrub off your sparklers—you wore right-now about it."
"Roz. I remember being terribly eager but I seem to have drawn a blank as to why. Roberto? Did I spill the news about the ‘Greeks capturing Athens'?"
"I don't think so, Eunice. Not when I was around. I'm fairly sure Winnie doesn't know it."
"I'll tell Winnie; it's Jake I want to keep in the dark."
"Eunice? Did Jake do it? Capture Athens and the Parthenon as well."
"Watch that Hippocratic Oath, dear. Parthenogenesis might be the answer. Let me keep this up in the air a while longer. You say this was Winnie's idea? After you told her you would marry her?"
"Yes."
"How did she ever get up her courage to propose? I've been urging her to but she's so damn' shy. Dutch courage?"
"Yes. But my own. Sure, she's shy—but under her blushes Winnie is as rugged as a nurse has to be. She said All right—if I would let her tie it down tight that she is no angel. I told her I had no use for angels, in bed or out. She said she hoped I meant that, because she was about to ask Jake to sleep with her."
"Roberto, I missed a lot of this. How much champagne did I drink?"
"Who counts? Jake kept opening bottles and we kept passing the loving cup around. While reciting that amphigory. You got your share. We all did."
"Uh... am I engaged to Jake?"
"Not that I know of."
"That's good. Because when Jake finds out I'm knocked up, he's going to be noble. Just as you were, dear, but Jake will be much more difficult. And I've discovered that I don't need a husband; I just want loving friends. You. Jake. Winnie. Some others. People who'll love me as I am, clay feet and all—not because of a contract. Did Jake make any fuss over the sleeping arrangements?"
"Uh, truthfully I don't think anyone was displeased with Winnie's suggestion. Jake picked Winnie up under one arm and announced that he was reenacting the Rape of the Sabines."
"The faithless old darling."
"So I picked you up and carried you in and scrubbed you and you squealed and protested and told me that was a hell of a way to run a rape."
"Mmm, I think I was right. ‘In vino veritas."
"So now I'm going to put a pillow over your fac4 so that you can't squeal and protest."
"You won't need a pillow; just put your hand over my mouth if I'm noisy. But all these doors are soundproof."
"You think I don't know it? When I lived here for most of a year? Miss Johann Smith, I know more about your house than you do."
"Oh, you bastard! Call me ‘Eunice.' Or put a pillow over my face so I can't hear you, Roberto—I'm so happy that you're going to marry our Winsome."
"So am I, Eunice. Now shut up."
"Yes, sir." (Unh! Eunice, nobody ever tells me anything.) (Shut up, twin, and pay attention to what you're doing!)
Joan Eunice reached for the intercom by her bed, tapped it for Cunningham, then reached for Roberto's hand.
"Yes, Miss?"
"Cunningham, I want breakfast for four, served in my lounge."
"Yes, Miss."
"Placed in my lounge, rather, with warmers and coolers. No service. I have no idea when Mr. Salomon and Dr. Garcia will wake up, but I want to be hostessish and ready to serve them myself when they do. But Winnie and I want to eat." She winked at the doctor, squeezed his hand.
"Certainly, Miss."
"They need their sleep. Tell me, Cunningham—you've known me a long time. Have you ever pinned one on?"
"Pardon me, Miss?"
"Go on a luau, get so fried you can't find the floor with both feet. Drunk and disorderly."
"I have sometimes—in the past—come down with that ailment."
"Then you know what a delicate condition we are in—Winnie and myself at least and I have reason to believe that the gentlemen will not be in much better shape. But there was excellent excuse."
"I heard about the trouble, Miss. Too bad."
"Cunningham, I did not mean Charlie. This may be callous of me... but he was a bully who picked a fight, and lost."
"Oh. If I may say so, Miss, he was not liked belowstairs. Uh, we really did not like having him in the house."
"I know. I would have put a stop to it long ago except that he worked for Mr. Salomon, not me—and I owe Mr. Salomon a great deal. No, the ‘excellent excuse' was something else. We were celebrating an engagement."
Cunningham said cautiously, "Should I offer congratulations, Miss?"
"Yes, but not to me. Dr. Garcia is marrying Winifred."
"Oh! That's fine, Miss. But we'll miss her."
"I am hoping that we will not have to miss her. This is a big house, Cunningham, much too large for one person. Or for two whenever Mr. Salomon can be persuaded to honor us. Not often enough, that is to say—but the Counselor is afraid that he will cause gossip about me."
"Uh, may I speak plainly, Miss?'
"Any time you don't, Cunningham, I shall be offended."
"Mr. Salomon is a fine gentleman. But if he worries about that—well, it's silly, that's all I can say. The staff do not gossip about his presence. They respect him."
"Perhaps you can tell him, he won't listen to me. But today I'm simply concerned that he sleep as late as possible. He must go to Washington tonight; you know. When you bring up breakfast, don't go past his door; go around the other way. You can't disturb me or Winnie; we are awake. And be certain that Hubert doesn't come fussing around until Mr. Salomon sends for him."