It's Bliss

by Alene Roberts

  “Oh no!” she gasped. She got out and looked at the bumpers.

  Sheldon looked over at the other driver. “I don’t see,” he began, then stopped. “Miss Lemmon!” They stared at each other. He blinked a couple of times. Didn’t I just see you back at the . . .”

  “Yes,” she mumbled.

  “How did you get here so fast?” .

  She shrugged her shoulders miserably.

  “And why were you driving so fast?” he asked irately.

  “I . . . I didn’t realize how fast I was going.”

  Sheldon sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm his rising impatience. “You should be more careful, Miss Lemmon. You’re fortunate that my brakes are good, as well as my reflexes, because I can’t see any damage to either of our cars.”

  “Ohh,” she breathed out, relieved. “I’m certainly glad to hear that, Dr. Ackerman.”

  “Well, as I said twice before, I bid you good night.” He got back into the car, backed up, drove around the Volkswagen, and exited the lot.

  Lora got into her car as quickly as she could. “Darn! Now he knows my car. How stupid of me,” she chastised herself loudly. “Oh well,” she said with grim determination, “I’ll just have to be more careful.”

  -

  Sheldon shook his head over the strange coincidence of running into Miss Lemmon three times—literally on the third. Soon, however, his mind became engrossed with the matter at hand until he glanced into the rear view mirror just before turning a corner. Had he seen a blue Volkswagen? No. He mentally shook himself and dismissed the thought.

  Finding Bliss’ street just off the campus, he stopped in front of the appropriate house, trying to figure out where the apartment was. He noticed Bliss’ car parked in back in plain view of the street. Parking against the curb, he crossed the street. Quelling a feeling of trepidation, he walked up the driveway to the back of the house. Seeing Bliss’ apartment number above a small porch, he stepped up onto it and knocked. The door opened.

  Startled, Billie gaped at him.”Dodds!”

  “I need to talk to you, and it can’t wait.”

  “Oh? Would you like to come in?” she asked hesitantly.

  “Yes, I would,” he stated resolutely, stepping inside.

  As Billie closed the door behind him, he looked around. “A charming place. Looks like you,” he muttered glumly.

  Billie was puzzled over his demeanor and strange attitude. “ Uh, please have a seat, Dodds.”

  “Thank you.” Even in his dour mood, his nose detected something cooking that smelled very good.

  The phone rang. “Will you excuse me, Dodds?”

  He nodded, feeling irritated at the interruption.

  “Hello? . . . Oh, hello, Jordan. . . . I have to go, I have a guest . . . no . . . no, it isn’t . . . no, I have plans for this weekend . . . please, Jordan, I do have to go. I’ll talk to you later. Goodbye, Jordan.” She hung up abruptly and smiled at her guest.

  “I’m so glad you dropped by. I want to tell you how well I’m doing with my weight . . . I mean inches. Just having you try to understand my feelings about everything has helped me so much.”

  “It has?” Though surprised and more than pleased at this news, he was acutely aware of the purpose of his visit. Determined not to be deterred, he said, “However, I—”

  “Oh, please excuse me, I have to get the scalloped potatoes out of the oven.”

  Sheldon watched her open the oven, pull out the casserole dish, and place it on top of the stove. She was wearing a large, white T-shirt and cutoff jeans. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail, making her look like a little girl.

  Sheldon realized, with some disquiet, that no matter what she wore or how she wore her hair, she looked—lovely.

  “Would you do me a favor, Dodds?” she asked, giving him one of those special ‘Bliss smiles’—as he was beginning to think of them.

  “What is it?” he asked, wariness in his voice.

  “Have dinner with me. I’ve made plenty because I like leftovers.”

  “I don’t think that would be wise, Bliss.”

  “Why? The wise thing is not to be here at all, but since you are here, please stay. I owe you so much, and besides, I like your company,” she said, softly, her brown eyes entreating.

  All of a sudden, Sheldon felt like his spine was made of putty. He couldn’t think of an appropriate rebuttal to the invitation and what’s more, he realized he didn’t want to. “All right, thank you. It smells so good, I’m afraid I can’t resist.”

  Before long, they were seated together at the small table, enjoying a meal of filet of sole, scalloped potatoes, and coleslaw. He helped himself to a slice of whole grain bread and buttered it.

  “This is a delicious meal, Bliss.”

  “Thank you,” she smiled. “It’s so nice to have someone to eat with for a change.”

  “You certainly eat well.”

  Billie sighed, a wistful expression replacing the smile. “Oh, but it’s so hard to cook and eat well when it’s only me I’m cooking for. That’s why I make a lot, so I can eat leftovers.”

  “Now you won’t have leftovers. I would like to make it up to you by taking you out to dinner at the Maple Woods Country . . .” He stopped, his fork in mid-air, shocked at what had just come out of his mouth. Noticing Bliss gazing at him wide-eyed, he smiled nervously, feeling foolish. “Sorry. I mean, it would be nice to be able to take you to dinner to make up for my eating up what would be leftovers for you,” he finished lamely.

  Billie’s laugh sounded musical. “Thank you, Dodds. It’s very nice of you to want to take me to the country club for dinner. I hear the food is delicious there.”

  They continued eating, while exchanging pleasant conversation about the class, the university, and her family. Sheldon noted that Bliss seemed happier than he had ever seen her in the short time he had known her, but he wondered if it could last. It was then that he realized he had completely forgotten why he had come here. Bliss, usually so curious, hadn’t even asked.

  The phone rang.

  Billie frowned in irritation as she got up and answered it. “Hello? Mike? . . . Oh yes, I remember, Drew introduced us this morning . . . I’m sorry, Mike, but I don’t go out with someone I hardly know . . .What do you mean you’ve heard about my reputation?. . . I see. I guess it’s true. Mike, I really can’t talk now, I have a guest . . . All right. Thank you for the invitation anyway.

  Goodbye.” She hung up and turned the phone off. “There! We won’t have any more interruptions,” she said to Sheldon, a conspiratorial smile on her face.

  Sheldon had been listening with great interest. Apparently Bliss was sought after by the young men, if tonight was any indication at least, but then this didn’t surprise him. For some reason, he felt a nudge of hope. Maybe he was wrong, maybe there was someone out there for her.

  “How often do you get those kinds of calls?” he asked, hopefully.

  “Too often. I can’t get my studies done sometimes unless I turn off the phone.”

  “Why aren’t you accepting any of the young men who call?”

  She looked at him puzzled, “You already know why, Dodds.”

  “Oh, yes . . .yes, I do, it’s just that you’re doomed to such a lonely life if you don’t get married, Bliss.” He was sure now he was on the right track.

  She nodded her head thoughtfully. An expression of great sympathy appeared on her face. “And you know how lonely, don’t you, Dodds?” She reached over and took one of his hands in both hers. “I haven’t been able to take my mind off you lately, thinking how lonely you must have been all these years—no parents, no loving wife and no children. Oh dear, dear, Dodds, we must find a wife for you.”

  How did this happen? he asked himself. He pulled his hand away, horrified.

  Backing his chair away from the table, he stood up abruptly. “Good grief, Bliss! How did the conversation get turned on me?”

  Billie also stood up. Steppi
ng around the table, she looked up at him.

  “Why do you react this way, Dodds? You know you’ve been lonely. I know you didn’t mean to be a bachelor. Maybe you were shy or got your heart broken or something and just immersed yourself in your work so completely, you quit trying to find a wife and . . .”

  “Stop! We were talking about your life becoming lonely, not mine.”

  “I know,” she said gently, “but right now I’m more concerned about your life, and lately, that’s all I’ve been able to think about. So I suggest we work on you for a while.” She noticed his mouth was working, obviously trying to form words that wouldn’t come. “Please Dodds, I promise you that I’m making progress in many ways, and while I’m progressing, we can work on finding you a wife.”

  Sheldon grabbed her shoulders to shake her, but immediately got hold of himself. Still gripping her firmly, his voice harsh, he stated, “Miss Bliss, the project is for you—not me.” Then desperately, he advanced the only argument he could think of. “How do you think the benefactor of Fairfield University would react if word got out that the project now included finding a wife for Dr. Ackerman?”

  She closed her eyes a moment, feeling the grip of his hands on her shoulders, very aware of how strong they felt. Opening her eyes, she rushed on breathlessly, “I think he would like that very much since you’re trying so hard to help your students. You see, Dodds, I’m sure he’d realize that if you’re happily married, no longer lonely, you can help your students even more.”

  Sheldon was speechless. Unable to get back on track, he had another urge to shake her. Instead he dropped his hands and quickly moved to the door.

  “Good night, Miss Bliss. Thank you for the dinner.”

  He jerked open the door, cleared the steps two-at-a-time, strode rapidly down the driveway and across the street to his car, aware that Billie was following him.

  He unlocked the car and was about to open it when she reached him.

  “I’m sorry for offending you, Dodds,” she said in a tremulous voice.

  “I’m not offended, I’m frustrated,” he stated bluntly.

  “Oh please, Dodds, don’t be frustrated.”

  Sheldon gazed down at her and saw tears glistening in her beautiful eyes. Suddenly, he felt ashamed of his perfectly logical and totally justifiable behavior. He couldn’t resist her. Those eyes, that voice, those tears. His hand went out toward her, then abruptly withdrew. “All right, Bliss, I’ll go home and try to get unfrustrated,” he said, a faint smile hovering about his lips.

  Relief flooded her features. She smiled. “Thank you, Dodds. See you tomorrow in class, and thank you for not letting me eat alone.” With that, she ran across the street, then turned and waved. Sheldon waved back and drove off. She walked slowly up the driveway enjoying the lovely evening. A rustle in the bushes behind her apartment made her look in that direction. Realizing that there wasn’t a breeze, she wondered if it was an animal of some kind. She waited and listened.

  -

  Why doesn’t she go inside? thought Lora, desperately. She needed to get out of the bushes. The convenient mound of dirt she had found to sit on turned out to be an anthill and she discovered too late that its irritated inhabitants were already crawling up her legs! She saw Billie study the bushes just after she had tried to brush the stinging little insects off. The fear that Billie would come over and investigate if she moved the bushes again held her immobile. And now they were crawling on her arms! She squelched a scream. The idea of hiding in the bushes so she could really spy on Dr. Ackerman and Billie had resulted in a disaster. When she had realized her predicament, it was too late. Dr. Ackerman came out the door with Billie following him. There was no way to escape without being seen by both of them. She would rather die of ant bites.

  “Oh no!” Lora whispered, “Billie’s sitting down on the steps.” It was at that moment she felt the ants crawling on her neck! A voiceless, strangling sound issued from her throat as she tried to brush them off without rustling the bushes. Mounting hysteria burst out in short, silent gasps.

  At last, Billie stood up and went inside. Immediately, Lora crawled along through the bushes, oblivious to the scratches, squeezing through until she reached the place where she had entered, an opening that was out of view of Billie’s front window. Extricating herself, she ran down the driveway and up the walk toward her car as fast as she could, while squirming and brushing ants off her face, neck, and arms.

  When finally around the corner, she realized that not only were the ants inside her pants, they were inside her shirt! Small, shuddering screams escaped as she brushed and shook herself vigorously. She couldn’t disrobe right here; she had to get home as fast as she could. Unlocking her car, she got in, turned on the key, and shoved the stick shift into gear. The car lurched forward, weaving from side to side as she wiggled, squirmed, and tried to get the ants out from under her clothes.

  After pressing the gas pedal to the floor for several blocks, she heard a siren behind her. Glancing in the rear-view mirror, she saw a policeman on a motorcycle. “Oh no!” she groaned, pulling over to the side. Unable to wait for the policeman to come to her, she got out, shaking herself, jumping up and down, gasping and shuddering. The startled young policeman approached her.

  “Oh please,” she implored him, “I just sat on top of an anthill and they’re even down inside my clothes. I have to get home and take them off,” she exclaimed, jigging up and down, tugging at various parts of her anatomy, “unless you want me to take my clothes off right here.”

  “Oh no, Miss, no!” He quickly assessed the red bites on her face, neck and arms. “Don’t do that! I’ll lead you home on my motorcycle, sirens and all.

  Give me your address.”

  “Th-thank you officer!” She blurted out the address.

  Had Lora not been so excruciatingly miserable, she would have found this a great adventure, roaring down the highway as fast as her little Volkswagen could go, with the siren of the policeman ahead screaming for the cars to move aside—just for her.

  Ella Lemmon heard the siren as it got closer. She peered out through the blinds and got the shock of her life. She saw a police motorcycle roaring down the road, coming her way, and Lora was right behind—chasing him!

  Twenty-One

  The minute Sheldon entered his condo, he walked over to the phone and called Nettie.

  “Hello?” came the cheerful voice.

  “Nettie, help! I need some help.”

  “Good. I’m dying to know what’s going on with you and Billie Bliss.

  What can I do for you?”

  “I wish I could tell you everything, but I can’t. I’m in deep water, Nettie!

  Females are so unpredictable, so confusing, so— ”

  “Shel, stop. Just tell me the bottom line, and we’ll back up if we have to.”

  “Bliss is . . . oh, I need to tell you, we’ve decided to be less formal in private. She calls me Dodds and I call her Bliss.”

  “Oh? Why do you call her Bliss rather than Billie?”

  “Billie doesn’t fit her at all.”

  Nettie smiled, wondering why he felt that way. “Go on, Shel.”

  “Tonight, out of the blue, this girl told me that she’d been thinking about me, and how lonely I must’ve been through the years. She wants to work together to find me . . . uh, a wife!”

  Nettie’s silence lasted only a second before she burst into laughter. “Good for her.”

  “I knew you’d like to hear that, Nettie, but tell me how to get her off this kick. I let her know that it’s not a subject to discuss or even consider. But what if she thinks it will save my soul and refuses to let it go? What should I do, what shall I say?”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it, Sheldon, she seems like a sensitive girl. I don’t think she’ll mention it again, unless you provoke her into it by something you say.”

  Sheldon thought this over. “Maybe you’re right. I hope you are. Actually, I intend to beat her to the punch. Thi
s brings me to the main reason I called.

  Could you stay after the meeting tomorrow night for about fifteen or twenty minutes? I need to talk to all three of you about something.”

  “Sure can, Shel.”

  “Thanks, Nettie, I’ll call Robert and Hal. Good night. I’ll see you soon.”

  -

  Friday morning, when Sheldon walked into his class at three minutes to ten, he found all the class members gathered around someone, laughing and chattering. He could see Bliss’ shiny, auburn hair in the group and wondered what could be so interesting.

  He couldn’t see Lora Lemmon, who was in the middle of the melee, eating up all the attention she was getting. One by one, the class members had walked over to her, aghast at the condition of her face and arms, asking question after question. She was more than eager to relate her adventure with the policeman, but was carefully vague as to how she came to sit on top of an anthill—and why she had to sit there long enough for them to crawl all over her. All the girls assured her that they’d never heard anything so funny.

  Lora then informed them that even through the stinging and smarting, she had noticed how good looking the young policeman was, describing his nice blue eyes, sandy-blonde hair, and broad shoulders. She told them how he had gallantly made her promise to go to a clinic and have a doctor check her over, suggesting that maybe she needed a shot of some kind to counteract the poison from the ant bites. Lora was gratified over their reactions to this last bit of information.

  Dr. Ackerman cleared his throat, suggesting it was time for class to start.

  As the group dispersed, he saw who was creating the interest—Miss Lemmon!

  For several days of late, Lora Lemmon had seemed different; the perpetual sour expression had changed to an all-knowing, smug one. He couldn’t decide which one he disliked the most. But today, something was wrong with her.