“And I'll leave my door open in case you get lonely.”
And I'd lock my door in case I got weak.
* * * * *
I AWOKE DISORIENTED, staring at a ceiling that wasn't mine. The walls were covered with faded green paper patterned with barely discernible viney flowers. Comforting in an old-?fashioned way. Morelli had inherited this house from his Aunt Rose and hadn't changed much. My guess was the simple white curtains that hung on the windows had been chosen by Rose. It was a small room with a queen-?size bed and a single chest of drawers. The floors were wood, and Morelli had placed a rag throw rug beside the bed. It was a sunny room and much quieter than my own bedroom, which faced out to the parking lot. I was sleeping in one of Morelli's T-?shirts, and I was now faced with grim reality. I had no clothes. No clean underwear, no shorts, no shoes, no nothing. First thing would be a trip to Macy's for an emergency wardrobe.
There was a clock radio on the chest of drawers. It was nine o'clock. The day had started without me. I opened my door and peeked into the hall. All was silent. No sign of Morelli. A piece of paper had been taped to my door. It said Morelli had gone off to work and I should make myself at home. It said there was an extra key for me on the kitchen table and towels laid out in the bathroom.
I showered and dressed and went downstairs in search of breakfast. I poured myself a glass of orange juice and looked in at Rex.
“No doubt about it, I made an idiot out of myself last night,” I said.
Rex was sleeping in his soup can and didn't show a lot of concern. Rex had seen me in my idiot state before.
I ate a bowl of cereal and took a look at the house. It was clean and orderly. The food in the cupboard was basic, the pots were second generation. Six glasses. Six dishes. Six bowls. Shelf paper left from Aunt Rose. He had a coffeemaker, but he hadn't made coffee, nor had he made breakfast. No dirty dishes. No new dishes in the dish drain. Morelli would stop on the way to work for coffee and whatever. Cops weren't known for their excellent diets.
I remembered Morelli's living room furniture from his apartment. Utilitarian. Comfort without style. It seemed off in the row house. The row house needed overstuffed with magazines on the coffee table and pictures on the walls.
Rooms were shotgunned. Living room, dining room, kitchen. Because Morelli lived in the middle of the block, there were no windows in the dining room. Not that it mattered. I couldn't see Morelli using the dining room. In the beginning, when Morelli had first moved here, I couldn't see him in the house at all. Now it suited him. Not that Morelli had turned domestic. It was more that the house had assumed independence. As if Morelli and the house had reached an agreement to coexist and leave it at that.
I called my mother and told her there'd been a fire and I was staying with Morelli.
“What do you mean, you're staying with Morelli? Ommigod, you're married!”
“It's not like that. Morelli has an extra bedroom. I'm going to pay him rent.”
“We have an extra bedroom. You could stay here.”
“I've tried that before, and it doesn't work. Too
many people using one bathroom.” Too many homicidal maniacs wanting to kill me.
“Angie Morelli is gonna have a fit.”
Angie Morelli is Joe's mother. A woman both revered and feared in the burg.
“Angie Morelli's a good Catholic woman, and she's not as open-?minded as I am,” my mother said.
The Morelli women were good Catholics. The men broke every commandment. The men played Monday night poker with the Antichrist.
“I have to go,” I said. “I just wanted you to know I was okay.”
“Why don't you and Joe come over for dinner tonight? I'm making meat loaf.”
“We're not a couple! And I have things to do.”
“What things?”
“Things.”
My next phone call was to the office. “My apartment got firebombed,” I told Connie. “I'm staying with Morelli for a while.”
“Good move,” Connie said. “You on the pill?”
I straightened the kitchen, pocketed the key and took off for the mall. Two hours later I had a week's worth of clothes and a maxed-?out charge card.
It was noon when I got to the office. Connie and Lula were at Connie's desk eating Chinese.