by C. C. Coburn
“Tonight?” Beth was amazed. She’d rung up for an appointment and had instead been asked out on a date?
“Yes, tonight. We could discuss Molly if you like. You’ll have my undivided attention for a couple of hours.”
Beth considered. If agreeing to have dinner with a personable young physician meant she might get an answer to Molly’s problems, then she was all for it. “Do you want me to bring Molly?”
“No. Why?” he asked.
“I…” Beth was feeling like all sorts of a tongue–tied fool. “I thought you might need to look in her ears.”
Peter’s laugh echoed down the phone line so loudly that Beth had to hold the handset away from her ear. “Hell, no. I’ll have had enough of kids by the end of the day. Sure don’t want them climbing all over me at dinner. I’ll have a quick look at Molly when I come and pick you up. We can discuss her treatment options over dinner. Without the kids,” he added, as if he was making sure she understood that he didn’t want children around him after working hours.
Beth mused that, for a pediatrician, he didn’t really seem to like being round kids unless he was being paid for it. Maybe it was because he’d never settled down and had a family of his own.
“So is tonight too soon, Beth?”
The next thirty minutes wouldn’t be too soon for Beth if it meant getting an answer to Molly’s problems. She could ask Jeannie, the high school sophomore from next door, to sit the kids. Failing that, she knew Tilly was home this evening. “Tonight sounds fine, er… Peter. Thank you.” Beth felt a little uncomfortable calling him by his Christian name after they’d treated each other so formally previously. She couldn’t imagine how uncomfortable she was going to feel on this date. Peter had a reputation as a lady’s man. She hoped he wasn’t expecting to have her for dessert…
“Great! I’ll pick you up at seven, then. Gotta get back to the patients in my waiting room. Bye.”
Beth stared at the phone’s hand piece. Why did men who wanted something from her always end up hanging up first? Beth made a mental note to herself to contemplate this matter further when she had more time on her hands. But, for now, she had housework and some painting to do and a date to plan for.
She bit her cheek. Hadn’t she promised herself she wouldn’t be going on any more blind dates? Oh yeah, she told herself, I already know Peter Grenville, so it isn’t a blind date. And it’s not even a date as such. I’m just going out with him so I can help Molly. So this doesn’t count as either a blind date or a real date, because I have absolutely no interest in Peter Grenville whatsoever!
She wondered about that. If Peter Grenville had phoned her up just last week and asked her out, would she have felt more enthusiasm? Probably. But that was before she’d met Gabe. Before that infuriating, utterly handsome and irresistible man had walked into her life. Now the thought of seeing anyone other than Gabe left her feeling as cold as a dead fish. So not only had that rat of a man given her the most mind–blowing orgasm of her life without even taking her clothes off, he’d spoiled her for being interested in any other man!
Beth gave herself a shake and told herself, “Snap out of it!” The best way to cure being thrown off a horse was to get right back on. Well, she was going to cure herself of Gabe Hunter by getting right back on the dating carousel, even if it killed her. She was going to get laid by a real man, a man who didn’t want commitment or a relationship, or anything else that involved happy–ever–afters!
And Peter Grenville, the lady’s man, was the perfect place to start. He was a doctor after all, so he should know his anatomy. He should know just where to touch a woman to send her to heaven and back again. Maybe several times. She smiled. Several times? Now that really would be nice!
Beth had just finished up putting the finishing touches to a portrait of a Denver company CEO, when she got a call.
“Bess, Bess! Prease hurry. Water she no go!”
Beth knew this was Mimi, her domestically challenged Japanese neighbor, from four doors down. Mimi’s real name was Hiromi, but Molly called her Mimi and the name had stuck. In the months since she and her husband Toshi had moved from a Tokyo serviced apartment with a maid to Denver, Mimi had lurched from one household disaster to another. Although Mimi had never done a lick of housework in her life, she was determined to assimilate into American life by not having help. Beth thought this was a very bad idea, especially since Toshi was earning a bomb as troubleshooter for a software firm and could therefore afford several maids—but, more importantly, because Mimi’s domestic skills were completely non–existent.
“So you have no water?” Beth guessed.
“No, no! Too much. Too much. Prease hurry, or I drown.”
Assuming one of Mimi’s pipes must have burst, Beth snatched up Molly and grabbed the business card of her plumber from her fridge door and headed to Mimi’s at a trot.
Beth didn’t bother knocking on her door as it was open already and she could hear sounds of what she assumed was Mimi swearing in Japanese.
What confronted Beth as she walked inside wasn’t quite what she’d expected. Mimi stood in the middle of her kitchen surrounded by a sea of kitchen towels floating in an ocean of soapy water.
Beth wasn’t sure if the situation was worse or slightly better than the time she’d found Mimi up to her armpits in bubbles issuing from her dishwasher when she’d used ordinary detergent instead of dishwasher tablets.
Mimi spied Beth staring aghast at the scene.
“Help, Bess, prease help! Water no go,” Mimi implored.
Beth plonked Molly on a nearby sofa and waded into the kitchen. The floor was awash and water streamed in the direction of the formal living room. Beth forgot about the imminent damage to the expensive carpet for the moment and said, “So what have you done now, Mimi?”
“Froor very dirty. I wash.”
Beth kicked away a piece of paper toweling that had wrapped itself round her ankle.
“What exactly did you wash it with, Mimi?”
“Soapy water in bucket. I throw on froor.”
“There’s a lot more than a bucketful of water on this floor, Mimi.”
Mimi nodded. “Yes, yes. Then I want to rinse soap away so I use hose, but water no go.”
Beth tried to keep a straight face. Poor Mimi was so earnest in her endeavors. And so clueless.
“Let me get this straight. You turned the hose on and tried to rinse your floors with that?”
Mimi’s face lit up and she nodded eagerly. “But there no hole.”
“Hole?”
“In floor. See?” Mimi swirled her feet amongst the paper towels that were now a gooey pulp sloshing back and forwards in the water. More water headed towards the living–room carpet.
Apparently Mimi thought there should be a drain hole like in a bathroom. Beth couldn’t help it, she laughed out loud and hugged Mimi. “Oh, you crazy woman! Kitchens don’t have drain holes.”
Mimi frowned “You think I crazy?”
Beth hugged her again. “Yes I do, but I love crazy people. You are my favorite crazy person! What would I do without a neighbor like you to brighten up my day?”
Mimi’s face glowed with pride. Beth was relieved; she didn’t want to offend Mimi.
“How about we get this cleaned up?”
“Toshi be very mad. About beautiful carpet.” Mimi burst into tears. “And crazy wife.”
“No, he won’t. I’ll get a carpet cleaner in here today and have it dried out before he gets home, okay?”
Mimi didn’t look so sure. Apparently Toshi really loved that carpet. In fact, she looked on the point of tears and was wringing her hands.
Beth caught Mimi’s hands in hers and said, “Hey, this is me, your friend, Beth. Remember? Did Toshi find out about the dishwasher overflowing that day?”
Mimi shook her head.
“Did Toshi find out about the time you tried to clean the toilet and the brush got stuck in it?
Mimi shook her head again.
&n
bsp; “Did Toshi find out about the time you accidentally ordered a load of manure instead of mulch for the garden?
Mimi shook her head and looked more hopeful.
“Then he won’t have a clue about this, okay? So let’s get to work.”
Beth had to take Mimi’s mind off her sodden floors and carpets. “How about you go and find some towels—lots of them—and I’ll start mopping up… Um… where’s your mop?”
Mimi looked at her blankly. “Mop?”
“Yeah, thing like a broom only it has an absorbent pad on the end.”
Mimi shrugged and pointed at the paper towels strewn across the floor.
“Okay, forget the mop.” Beth didn’t have the energy to run back home to collect her own mop. They could wring out the towels in the bucket and clear the floors that way.
Mimi disappeared and returned with her arms full of white fluffy towels. They looked pristine and brand new too. Beth hated to ruin them on the floors, but there was nothing else for it. They set to work, spreading the towels on the floor, mopping up all the water. Then they squeezed the towels out into the bucket and emptied it down the sink.
Mimi was entertaining company and had an almost encyclopedic knowledge of many things—except housework—but Beth simply didn’t have the time or energy to keep dealing with Mimi’s domestic disasters.
“You know Mimi, I really appreciate it that you’re making such an effort to be like an American housewife, but I think it might be wiser to get a cleaner in once a week.”
She’d expected an argument from Mimi on this. Mimi had tried so hard, but had failed at so many things American women took for granted. Mimi’s heart was in the right place, but she just wasn’t cut out for domestic chores. Beth loved her new friend dearly, loved spending time with her and learning about her life in Japan. Mimi had been brought up in a very wealthy home, studied engineering at university, then married Toshi and moved into a serviced apartment. She was charming and rather formal and very unlike the Japanese American girls Beth had attended college with.
Mimi sat back on her haunches, her hair in complete disarray and tears drying on her cheeks. “I think you right, Bess. I am American housewife failure.”
“No, no! You’re not a failure, Mimi. You’re a good, person, a kind person, but you’re just not cut out for doing housework.”
“Then what else I do with my day?”
“What did you do in Tokyo?” Mimi and Toshi didn’t have children, so there wasn’t that distraction unfortunately. And in spite of her engineering degree, she’d never worked as an engineer—something Beth hadn’t yet gotten to the bottom of.
Mimi’s face lit up. “I go Ikebana class.”
“Ikebana? As in flower arranging?”
Mimi nodded, enthusiasm emanating from her. “I show you photos!” She stood up and turned, the floor forgotten in her enthusiasm to show Beth her work.
Beth caught her hand and pulled her back down to the floor. “First we clean the floor, then we’ll ring a carpet cleaner and then we can look at your lovely photos, okay?”
Mimi blushed. “Sorry, I get excited and forget housework.”
“That’s okay, I’d like to forget housework too. But this is a priority.”
Mimi inclined her head in query so Beth explained. “We do this first and then the next thing that is important, and then we can have time for enjoyment looking at your photos.”
Mimi’s face cleared. “Ah, yes, pri–ority,” she said slowly, trying out the new word. Beth knew she’d be using it a lot in the coming days. Mimi liked new words.
“So how you going with JJ?” Mimi asked as she squeezed out yet another sodden towel.
Mimi knew of some of Beth’s problems with JJ; they’d been an icebreaker for them when they first met and so Mimi had apparently assumed that American women liked talking about their exes at every opportunity.
Beth growled under her breath. “That man is the bane of my life. I nearly killed him on Saturday. And if he crosses me again, then he really will end up dead and I won’t be held accountable.”
Mimi’s eyes went the size of saucers, so Beth explained what had transpired on Saturday morning. Mimi listened intently as she mopped at the floor and made tut tutting sounds and muttered in Japanese at each point of Beth’s tale of woe.
“So basically that’s how things are going with JJ. He’s a complete jerk and I want him dead.”
Mimi nodded. “Ah, so this is common for American woman to want husband dead?”
“Yes, Mimi, very common. I spend large tracts of my day thinking up ways for him to die. Preferably painfully.”
Mimi nodded again. “I not think this happen in Japan. But I tell Toshi he behave or I kill him.” She made a slicing movement across her throat.
Beth laughed. “Mimi, Toshi is a sweetie, he doesn’t deserve to die. Not like JJ does.”
“Okay. I keep him.” She winked, indicating it was a joke.
“Tell you what, I’ve got a much more interesting topic than that jerk JJ for us to discuss while we do this, I met a man.”
“But you meet many men, Bess.”
“None like this one! Oh, Mimi, he was to die for!”
“Now you die?”
“No, Mimi…” Beth was going to explain the difference between dying for someone and what it really meant when an American woman wanted to kill her ex. But she just didn’t have enough hours in the day and talking about Gabe was more appealing.
Twenty minutes later, the floor was drying out and Mimi had set to work stamping on what was left of the dry towels, trying to get as much moisture out of the carpet as possible. Beth excused herself to call some carpet cleaning firms. A half dozen calls later and none of them were co–operating.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the operator said, but we can’t get anyone out till next week.”
This was becoming old, Beth thought. “Okay, I’ll offer double the going rate. This carpet has to be cleaned and dried this afternoon.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but we get offers like that every day.”
“You get offers from people saying they’ll pay double and you still can’t accommodate them?” Maybe Mimi could go into the carpet cleaning business, that would keep her days occupied. No, forget that. Who knew what would happen!
Mimi looked up and the look of distress on her face tore at Beth. It wasn’t that Toshi was unkind or anything, he’d probably laugh off Mimi’s disasters with good humor, he was that kind of guy. But it was important to Mimi that Toshi thought she was coping in her new role as American housewife.
“Tell him I pay four time rate.”
Beth shook her head.
Mimi put her hands together in prayer and did her wounded puppy dog look.
“We’ll pay four times the going rate,” Beth told the operator.
“I’ll have someone around within the hour, Ma’am. What is the address?”
“Money talks…” Beth murmured, hanging up the phone after giving instructions to the operator.
“They come?” Mimi asked, hope and desperation in her eyes.
“Within the hour.”
“Oh, sank you! Sank you, Bess, you are wonderful friend.”
“It’s my pleasure, Mimi, I consider you a wonderful friend too. How about we make coffee and look at your photos while we wait?”
Molly had curled up to sleep on the sofa not long after Beth plonked her down, now she stirred. “All better?” Beth asked and Mimi dashed to Molly and hugged her tightly.
“Oh, she so beautiful. I wish I have one.”
“A child?” This was news to Beth. She’d never broached the subject of Mimi’s childlessness with her, assuming it was either because they didn’t want them or couldn’t have them. But Mimi had always been very affectionate towards Molly, so she’d assumed it was the latter, in which case, it wasn’t her place to probe.
“Oh, yes, Bess. I love to have baby, but we not have room.”
“Room?” Beth asked, glancing round
Mimi’s impressive and expansive four bedroom, four–and–a–half bathroom home.
“In Tokyo. We live in very small apartment. We have two bedroom but they size of your closet. We have no room for baby.” She gave Molly another squeeze. “And if I have baby here, where I put it when I go back Tokyo?”
Beth thought the baby was more in danger from Mimi’s housekeeping abilities than from having to live in a bedroom the size of a broom closet.
“Does Toshi want a baby?” Toshi was getting on in age. Beth guessed him to be in his mid–forties while Mimi was in her early thirties.
“Oh, he want baby very much too.” Mimi shrugged. “But we have no room.”
“Well, you’ve got plenty of room here, Mimi. And I’m sure the baby won’t care how big its bedroom is back in Tokyo. You could always buy a bigger apartment,” Beth pointed out.
“Oh no, apartment very expensive. Our apartment Tokyo cost more than this house. And your house too.”
That was news to Beth. “More than the cost of both our houses combined?”
“Oh, yes, much more. We like USA, everyting cheaper and bigger here.”
Mimi beamed with satisfaction, then her face crumpled slightly. “Of course, big house hard to clean.”
Beth grinned. “Never mind, I’ll find you a cleaner and then you won’t have to worry about that anymore.”
“Thank you, Bess, here photo.” Mimi opened an album.
Beth gasped, the floral arrangements were breathtaking. Simple yet sculptural, they appealed to Beth’s artist eye. “These are all yours?”
“Oh, yes, I win many competition. I love Ikebana.”
“Then why don’t you have any displayed in your home?”
Mimi screwed up her face. “Is not American home then.”
Poor Mimi, she was so afraid of not fitting in. Beth had a thought.
“You know, Mimi, I think you might have found something to fill your days.”
“I make many Ikebana?”
“Yes,” Beth said slowly, “But I mean you can teach people Ikebana.”
“No!”
“Yes, of course you can. I’m sure there are people all over Denver who’d love to learn the art of Ikebana. I would.” Beth wasn’t quite sure when, but she’d make the time for Mimi.