“But try not to drive too much.” Jimmy readjusted the mirror and ran his hand along his shaved head. “The weather is supposed to get shitty tomorrow. Maybe ice. But not until the afternoon. Our flight leaves in the early morning. You’ll be fine if you come straight home.”
I frowned, looking out the backseat window, at the bright blue sky, the maple trees still dappled with a few gold leaves. I hadn’t heard about any ice.
But I said nothing. The idea of the weekend, the cuteness of the car, the luxury of the town house, was already locked into my mind. And later, when Jimmy showed me the security code that opened the door, and I saw the floor-to-ceiling windows in the kitchen and the enormous bathtub that looked like it had just been scrubbed (it had—Jimmy informed me that a maid came once a week), I forgot all about the potentially icy roads. I was friendly and compliant. I nodded appreciatively at the rather disturbing paintings on the wall, all painted by Jimmy. (“They’re all from the point of view of a serial killer,” Haylie explained. “They might be a little edgy for you.”) And I paid close attention when Jimmy opened the door to a glassed-in sunroom as warm and muggy as an August night, and full of exotic-looking plants. He showed me which ones needed to be misted daily and how to check the humidistat.
“Obviously I keep the sunroom warmer than the others,” he said, shutting the door behind him. “The rest of the house is set at sixty-five. So if it gets really cold tomorrow night, just let all the sinks drip a little, and open the cabinets underneath.”
I wasn’t sure what to say. Jimmy, I knew, was from some city in California that started with “San,” not San Diego or San Franciso, but some other place that sounded like the weather was usually lovely and mild. He’d apparently heard a little about Kansas winters and freezing pipes, and he was ready to take unnecessary precautions.
“That’s ridiculous!” Haylie appeared in the living room and gave one of his big arms a playful poke. “It’s not an old farmhouse. And she’s going to be here, running water. The pipes won’t freeze overnight.” She looked back at me, smiled, and rolled her lovely eyes.
I had slowly begun to understand that Haylie lived at the town house, too. Now that I thought about it, I rarely saw her around the dorm anymore. Her coat was hanging in the front closet, and Jimmy had pointed out her desk in the downstairs study. But I also understood that really, the house, the car—everything—belonged to him. So even though I knew, regarding the possibility of frozen pipes, that she was right and he was wrong, I looked to him for the final word.
He seemed to appreciate my good sense. “Turn the water on if it gets cold,” he said, looking at me, not at Haylie. His cell phone rang in his pocket. “I’ll take this outside,” he said. He kissed the back of her neck as he walked past her out of the room.
Haylie and I were silent, listening to his heavy boots move across the kitchen and out the front door. It was the first time we’d been alone together since high school, and I wondered if, with no audience, she might momentarily drop the act. She did not. When she noticed me watching her, she fished a tube of lipstick out of her skirt pocket, turned around, and looked at her reflection in the flat-screen television.
“He’s really particular about his things,” she said. “He’ll notice right away if anything is different.” She sounded angry, maybe at me. I could see her face in the gray screen, but I couldn’t read her expression.
Still, all around me was quiet. I could hear a dishwasher, gently humming, but that was all. Sunlight streamed in through the enormous windows, settling on the overstuffed couch, the hardwood floors, the lush and leafy plants perched on pedestals. I leaned forward and looked through the bathroom doorway, catching sight of the edge of the Jacuzzi—“a garden tub,” my mother would have called it. I hadn’t taken a long, hot bath in over a year. And so even though I was unsure if Haylie had just made a threat or a complaint, I continued to be friendly and compliant.
I would think about it later, how I dove headfirst into that weekend.