loud, she would have had no answer.
Lucy Corliss pulled up to the building in which her ex-husband lived and let the engine idle for a moment before switching it off and getting out of the car.
She walked up the front steps of the building and pressed the buzzer next to Tim’s name.
The apartment was on tie second floor, in a corner of the building, and Jim was anxiously waiting for her at the door.
“Has something happened? Have you heard something?”
“Not really,” Lucy said uncertainly as she stepped into the living room. She stopped just inside the room and stared. “For heaven’s sake,” she muttered. The room was small, but one side of it was dominated by a fireplace around which were a love seat and two wing chairs covered in the rust-brown material she had nearly selected for her own almost identical furniture. Between the chairs and the couch was a glass and brass coffee table, on which rested a sculpture that Lucy had never seen before, a bronze figure, obviously oriental, one leg raised, and the arms arched into the air.
“It’s a Thai dancer,” Jim told her. “I couldn’t really afford it, but I decided I could live without two years worth of nights on the town, and I bought it.”
“It’s beautiful,” Lucy breathed, moving closer to the statue and lowering herself onto one of the wing chairs.
“And you never thought I’d spend money on something like that?” Jim asked, his voice lilting with a half-taunting humor. “I’m afraid I gave up on Mediterranean furniture and decor by Playboy about the same time I moved out of Adultery Acres.” He sat down on the sofa opposite her, and his expression turned serious. “Something did happen, didn’t it?” he asked.
Lucy nodded, then told him about the visit she had had with Sally Montgomery that afternoon.
“And is that why you came over here?” Jim asked when she was done. “To see if I could figure out what’s going on?”
“Not really,” Lucy replied. “I’m putting all that on hold till Monday. There just isn’t anything I can do right now. It seems like both of us have done everything we can, and—” Her voice broke, and she let herself sink into the softness of the chair. “I guess I’m just wearing out, Jim. And I almost didn’t come over here. But I was lonely, and I was driving around, and suddenly the only person I could think of to talk to was you.” She glanced at Jim sharply, hoping he wouldn’t misunderstand her. “I mean, right now you and I have a lot in common, despite our differences.”
“Maybe there aren’t so many differences anymore,” Jim suggested. Then, before Lucy could answer, he stood up. “Can I fix us some drinks?”
“Do you have any gin?”
“Tanqueray.”
“With some tonic.” As Jim disappeared into the kitchen, Lucy stood up and wandered around the room. In a bookcase against the wall opposite the fireplace she found several books she had read over the past few years and a series of framed pictures.
Mostly, they were of Randy.
Several of them were of herself, and all but one had been taken before the divorce. One of them, though, was recent.
“I see you found my gallery,” Jim observed as he came back into the room.
“Where did you get this?” Lucy asked, picking up the picture. It had been taken two years earlier.
Jim blushed slightly. “I’m afraid I got sneaky. Randy told me you’d had a portrait made for his grandmother, and I called every studio in town till I found it.” He paused for a moment. “I’m sorry about your mother. I always liked her, even though she never thought much of me.”
Lucy smiled at him. “I think if she knew you now, she might change her mind.”
The two of them stood still for a moment, and Lucy had a feeling Jim was going to kiss her. And then, as if he sensed her sudden unease, he moved away from her. “You doing anything for dinner?”
“I hadn’t really thought about it,” Lucy admitted. All day she’d been dreading the evening alone in the empty house. Then, after Sally had gone, she’d finally gotten into the car and driven aimlessly for nearly two hours, trying to decide where to go, until a little while ago, when she’d found herself a few blocks from Jim’s apartment “You want to go out somewhere?”
“Not really,” Jim replied, his easy grin spreading over his face. “I still have to pay for the Thai dancer, and there’s