It's Bliss

by Alene Roberts

  The old habit of avoiding personal relationships asserted itself. Billie Bliss was just his student and a student who was ten years younger than himself.

  Besides, whatever made him think that a beautiful girl like her would even consider someone like him? It was obvious she could have her pick.

  After two hours of pacing, agonizing, going over everything, and analyzing his emotions, there was only one conclusion he could possibly make—he was completely and unalterably in love with Billie Bliss and had been for some time! As he compared his feelings for Bliss with what he had felt for the young woman he had fallen for years before, he found that there was no comparison. The other was like a high school crush compared to the love he felt for Bliss. And with Bliss, there was no vestige of the painful shyness he had battled for years when in the presence of a woman.

  A wonderful fact flashed into his mind. Since Bliss was no longer a student at Fairfield University, he could take her out! He could take her to nice places as Paul Atwood had done. He now realized that the misery he felt while Paul was pursuing her was just plain old harrowing jealousy.

  The next logical step was to find out if Bliss would even consider him. But how could he? She wouldn’t even see him. Somehow—he’d find a way.

  After fixing himself a frozen dinner, Sheldon sat down at the table with pen and paper, determined to come up with some clues that might explain why Bliss had dropped out of school and thus out of the project. The most haunting question was why Bliss had pulled away from him? She had to have a good reason for her actions, and there had to be some signals, signs, or clues.

  It couldn’t have come out of the blue without a warning somewhere along the line.

  He thought back over the past several weeks. Did Bliss say or do anything different, seem different? One thought came to mind; the last time she had seemed subdued for a while—not herself. He wrote it down. But it seemed to be over with by the following Saturday night. Remembering how it felt to hold her in his arms was both joy and torture!

  He needed to calm down and think rationally and not let his emotions get in the way. What was different, what was new, what was jarring of late? Getting up, he paced the floor, thinking. Lora Lemmon, that’s what!

  Everywhere he turned, she was there—bumping into him. But how could she figure in this? It made no sense.

  And this morning before class, there was definitely another jarring note.

  All the girls were gathered around Miss Lemmon—all except Bliss. She wasn’t participating, nor was she in the middle of it, as she was the last time Miss Lemmon got herself into a pickle. No matter how he looked at it, there was one common denominator. Lora Lemmon. She had to be the problem. But how?

  Tomorrow he was definitely going to go see Miss Lemmon and question her.

  Grateful that at least he had something to work on, Sheldon got ready for bed, feeling totally exhausted.

  -

  Lora Lemmon stood on the Bliss porch at 9:00 p.m., shaking like a poodle in a grooming parlor. When she had arrived home from work, her mother informed her that Billie had come to the house to see her. It had been hard to go over to Billie’s apartment this afternoon, but coming here was worse. Who knew if her parents might even call the police! But no matter, she had to get this over with. She pushed the doorbell then almost started hyperventilating.

  The door was opened by a kind-faced, elderly man. “Hello, may I help you?”

  “I . . . I came to see Billie. Is she home?”

  “She is,” he stated enthusiastically, smiling. “Come in.”

  “Oh, no. Th-thank you, I’ll just wait out here.”

  “All right, miss, you wait right there and I’ll get her.”

  The man’s kindness made her feel a little calmer. She went over to the porch swing and sat down to wait.

  “Hello, Lora,” Billie said walking out the door and over to the swing.

  “Hello, Billie.”

  “Your mother told me you came to see me today at my apartment.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  Billie sat down beside her on the swing. “What’s on your mind, Lora?”

  “I came to tell you . . .” a sob escaped. “I came to tell you that I’m sorry!”

  She covered her face and cried.

  Billie waited until Lora’s crying let up, then asked, “And what does that mean, Lora, when you say you’re sorry?”

  She looked at Billie. “It means that I’m not going to . . . to blackmail you. I don’t know why I started it all. I think it was because I was feeling so discouraged about not being able to leave home and have an apartment of my own like you. I began to feel jealous of you. I’ve never felt jealous of anyone before. And when I saw Dr. Ackerman in the video store, I was ready to think the worst. Then I guess I began kind of pretending I was a private investigator.

  It seemed exciting at the time—and then getting stung by ants and all, it just seemed like I needed to go through with a plan of some kind.” Another sob escaped. “I’m so sorry for feeling jealous of you. I’ve promised myself I won’t ever feel like that again.”

  Billie was silent, thinking. Lora looked at her anxiously. “Can you forgive me?”

  “Blackmail is against the law, Lora.”

  “I know,” she lamented. I deserve to be punished. Go ahead and call the police, but,” she amended hastily, “please make sure is isn’t Officer Bates who comes to get me.”

  Billie found herself smiling. “I’m not going to call the police, Lora. And I forgive you.”

  “You do?” her tear-laden eyes opened wide with amazement. “Oh, thank you, Billie, thank you! I have been so miserable since last night, I could hardly sleep, and I could hardly do my job at work today.”

  “Will you do me a favor, Lora?”

  “Oh yes, yes. Anything!”

  “Do you have a class tomorrow morning?”

  “No, I don’t have any classes on Tuesday and Thursday.”

  “Could you meet me at my apartment tomorrow morning at nine o’clock.”

  “Is that the favor?”

  “No, I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

  “Okay, and thanks again, Billie,” she said standing up. “I . . . I can’t believe you have forgiven me so soon. See you tomorrow.”

  Billie sat on the porch swing and watched Lora go to her car and drive off, feeling grateful for Lora’s complete remorse. She could now put into operation a plan she had conceived to help Lora. It was predicated upon her apologizing and backing down on her threat. She hadn’t expected it so soon.

  She remained in the swing, thinking about her life now that the threat to Dodds was over. What should she do? She knew she couldn’t go back to school and continue as before; everything was different now that she was hopelessly in love with her professor.

  Twenty-Seven

  When Billie drove up to her apartment, she found Lora waiting on the steps.

  “Good morning, Lora,” Billie said, smiling.

  Lora looked down, sheepish and dejected. “Good morning, Billie.”

  Billie sat down on the steps beside her. “It’s a beautiful morning isn’t it?”

  “Better morning than yesterday, that’s for sure,” Lora mumbled, her head bowed.

  “I would think so,” Billie said, studying her. “Now, for the favor. Would you consider moving into my apartment for a few months—at least for three?

  I’ve paid the rent up that far ahead.”

  Lora’s head jerked up. She stared at Billie, not believing her ears. “Move into your apartment? Why?”

  “I’m making other plans which may mean moving out of Claytonville, but in case I want to move back, I want to leave my furniture here. I need someone to live here whom I can trust to take good care of my furniture while I’m gone.”

  Lora, eyes wide with incredulity, asked, “Y-you trust me?”

  “Yes, I do, Lora.”

  “How can you trust me after what I did?”

  “I don’t know, Lora, but I d
o.”

  “But I should pay you rent.”

  “Oh no, not while my furniture is here. If I took it out so you could put your own in, then I would expect rent.”

  “Are you sure you want to do this, Billie?”

  “I’m sure.”

  Lora shook her head, not believing her good fortune—good fortune she didn’t deserve.

  “Come on inside, Lora, I want you to look at some clothes.

  They both got up and went inside. Turning around in front of Lora, Billie asked, “Can you see that I’ve lost weight?”

  “Oh, yes! You’re so lucky to have been chosen for the group.”

  Billie opened her closet and pulled out all of the clothes that she had been wearing when she was overweight and laid them over the couch. “These are all too big for me now. I was wondering—you and I are about the same height and you seem to be about the weight I was. I wondered if you could use them?”

  Lora could hardly believe it. These were all the beautiful clothes she had been envying. “Oh yes! Yes, I could.”

  “Try them on and see.”

  Lora tried on each one and they all seemed to fit, perhaps a tad snugly, but she was determined to lose weight—now! Her green eyes were sparkling with happiness. “Oh thank you, Billie. Thank you! I don’t deserve all this from you.” The tears started rolling down her cheeks.

  Billie hugged her. “Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t I style your hair? I have kind of a knack for it.”

  “You do? Oh, let’s do!”

  Billie studied Lora’s face and asked, “Do you like Josie’s windblown hair style, Lora?”

  “I do. She’s such a pretty girl.”

  “Well, I think that style would look very nice on you. I’ve seen golden highlights in your hair right after you’ve washed it. I have a special shampoo that will bring out those highlights even more, and make your hair glossier besides.”

  “You do? I’ve wondered how you kept your hair looking so shiny, Billie.”

  Billie studied her face some more. “You know, I’ve never seen such beautiful, large green eyes as you have, Lora. And your high cheek bones and petite mouth make you look like someone an artist would want to paint. You are much prettier than Josie.”

  Lora listened, astonished at Billie’s amazing assessment of her looks.

  An hour later, Lora looked into the mirror at herself. Her hair, shiny and blow-dried into the stylish, loose, windblown look, was no longer stringy and dull. The light- green cotton pant set did wonders for her, too.

  “Lora, that green makes your eyes look even greener and your complexion looks like peaches and cream—even with the ant bites. You’re so pretty.”

  “I am? You really think so?”

  “I know so. Now, Lora, will you move into my apartment?”

  “I will. But I’ll have to sneak a few things over at first and move in gradually until I can break the news to my mother. I’ll start preparing her. She has become very dependent on me.”

  “Your mother needs to find a way to get back to work and quit using you as a crutch.”

  Lora’s eyes widened. “You think so, too? I’ve been feeling guilty for thinking that very thing—and Ma is good at making me feel guilty.”

  “Here are the keys to the apartment. I’ve got to go now. There’s food in the cupboards, the refrigerator and freezer. Please use it. I’m going around the front and tell Mrs. Griffen, the landlady, that you’ll be living here for a while.”

  Lora watched her go, thrilled and excited, feeling like a modern-day Cinderella.

  Billie rang the doorbell and Mrs. Griffen appeared, opening the screen door. “Come in, Billie.”

  “Here’s the check, Mrs. Griffen, for September, October and November that I said I would bring by. My friend, who will be living here and taking care of the apartment, is Lora Lemmon.”

  Driving home, Billie smiled. She felt so pleased at the makeover she had done on Lora. As she had suspected, Lora had basic good looks. All she needed was a new hairstyle, flattering clothes, a little makeup and—a happy expression to bring out her beauty. She found it rather exhilarating to play ‘Pygmalion’.

  -

  Sheldon impatiently attended to his duties all morning until 11:30, then looked up Lora Lemmon’s class schedule and address. Taking the chance that she might be home for lunch, he decided to try to see her there.

  Pulling into the Lemmon driveway, he sat in the car a moment, contemplating the neglected house and yard, feeling hesitant to go in. Nevertheless, he got out of the car, walked up to the house, and rang the door bell. He heard a television blaring loudly. He rang again.

  Presently, the door opened a crack. “Yes?”

  “Hello, I’m Dr. Ackerman, one of Lora’s professors at the university.”

  The door opened wide. “Oh, do come in Dr. Ackerman, Lora has spoken of you.”

  He stepped inside, adjusting his sight to the darkened room.

  “I’m Ella Lemmon, Lora’s mother. Please excuse me, but I’m suffering from a beastly migraine. But do have a seat, Dr. Ackerman.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Lemmon,” he said, trying to see the chair to which she pointed. When his eyes had adjusted to the gloom, he saw that Mrs. Lemmon appeared to have just awakened. Her hair was frazzled and her robe revealed a nightgown underneath. He looked around. Being an organized person, Sheldon was appalled at the disheveled and cluttered condition of the room.

  Ella Lemmon sat down and reached over to the lamp table, opened a prescription bottle, took out a couple of pills and swallowed them with a glass of water. “Now, what can I do for you, Dr. Ackerman? I do hope Lora is doing all right in your class.”

  “That isn’t what I came to talk to Lora about, I just need to ask her a few questions about something else. Is she here?”

  “No, she isn’t. I’m sorry. She told me she was going over to the apartment of a classmate—Billie Bliss. Those two must be getting thick. Billie Bliss was here to see Lora yesterday morning.”

  Sheldon’s brows rose. “Is that right?” He stood up abruptly. “Well then, I’ll run over there and see her. Thank you, Mrs. Lemmon.”

  On the way over, Sheldon was sure now that Lora Lemmon had some answers. His spirits rose at the thought of seeing Bliss. Surely, she would be there if she had company. In his excitement, he parked by Lora’s Volkswagen, unaware that Billie’s car was missing. He ran to the porch and rang the doorbell, his heart pounding.

  The door opened and a young woman stood there, her eyes wide with surprise. She looked familiar. They stared at each other for a moment.

  “Dr. Ackerman!”

  “Miss Lemmon?” he asked in amazement.

  “Yes.”

  “What are you doing in Miss Bliss’ clothes?”

  “She gave them to me.”

  “She what?” He pushed his way in and looked around. “Where is she?” he asked, glowering at her.

  “I guess she’s at home.”

  “Well, what are you doing here, if she’s at home?”

  “I live here now. She’s asked me to stay here and take care of the apartment because she is going to move from Claytonville as soon as she finds a job.”

  Sheldon fell into a chair—trying to absorb what he had just heard. “Why is she going to move from Claytonville?” he asked in a barely audible voice.

  Lora shook her head. “I don’t know, she didn’t tell me.”

  Maybe I’m wrong about Miss Lemmon, he thought, but reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out the letter anyway. “She wrote me this letter. I was wondering if you would mind reading it.”

  Lora reached for it and began reading, while Sheldon studied her closely.

  Her hand started to shake and she dissolved into tears.

  “Oh, no! She’s quit college and is moving out of town because of me.”

  Sheldon stood up and pulled the letter from her hands, asking in an ominous tone, “And why is that, Miss Lemmon?”

  She plopped herself down o
n the couch and bawled loudly. With no compassion in his demeanor whatsoever, Sheldon stood waiting for her to gain a measure of control that didn’t seem to be forthcoming.

  “Miss Lemmon! Stop that caterwauling,” he yelled to be heard above the hysterics. When she looked up into his scowling face, her tears became a cascade, rolling down her cheeks. Defeated, he sat down and waited, tapping his fingers together impatiently.

  Finally, Lora got up and went over to the counter, picked up a box of tissues, pulled out a couple, and blew her nose thoroughly.

  “You want to know why I sat on an anthill twice, Dr. Ackerman?”

  “Not particularly, Miss Lemmon. That, I’m afraid, is way down on the list of things I would like to know.”

  “I spied on you and Billie,” she blurted out in a defiant voice.

  Sheldon’s mouth dropped open and it remained so as he tried to internalize her statement. “Spied? Where?”

  “Out on top of the anthill.”

  “Miss Lemmon,” he said, his voice turning ominous again. “Don’t play games with me. Explain.”

  “I’m not playing games, Dr. Ackerman, I spied on you both while sitting on top of an anthill. I didn’t know what it was the first time, but the second time I spied, I knew.”

  Sheldon’s patience had reached its limit. “Miss Lemmon, I don’t care whether you knew it was an anthill or not,” he roared, “just tell me where in the blazes this anthill is!”

  “Out in back,” she said in a plaintive voice.

  “Show me,” he ordered.

  Lora led him outside and over to the bushes and pointed. “Inside there.”

  Sheldon looked in and saw ants swarming all over a large mound of dirt.

  Pulling his face out, he looked over at Billie’s window, directly across from the bushes, and then over at Lora, his face revealing total shock. “You were spying on us!”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Whatever possessed you to do such a thing?” he asked, barely able to hold in his mounting anger.

  “So . . . so I could find out some juicy information.”