Chapter 17: February

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"Oh, Zoe, I don't know if I can do this! Mr. Cramer is going to pick me up in a few minutes to go to that county educational meeting, and I don't know if I can spend the whole evening with him. I'm afraid anything I say will remind him of Paul and Elise and their elopement."

"If it's any help, I expect he's going to be worried about upsetting you, too." Zoe saw Jean's look of concern deepen. "I know. It's easy for me to talk. I don't have to go through tonight. One thing, though, you'll both be in the same boat."

A knock sounded on their front door.

Jean gasped. "He's here!"

"Don't worry," Zoe advised in a stage whisper. "It'll be okay."

"My coat!" Jean ran for the bedroom.

Shaking her head, Zoe hurried to answer the door. "Good evening, Mr. Cramer. Won't you come in?"

"Only for a moment, Miss Bergetti." He stepped inside. "I've come to pick up Miss Harnett. Is she ready?"

"She's getting her coat."

Cramer glanced around the living room. "You have a nice apartment. It looks very cozy."

"Thank you, Mr. Cramer."

They could both hear Jean muttering as she struggled with something. Zoe shrugged and Cramer looked puzzled.

Cramer nodded toward the sound. "That used to be Carlton Doubleday's bedroom."

"Really?"

"Yes. I've spent many a night with Candy in that bedroom," he said as Jean stepped, slightly ruffled, out of it.

Jean, of course, had not heard Cramer's first sentence, only his second. She stopped dead in her tracks and blushed hard.

In the dead silence that followed, everyone stared at each other with wide eyes.

Zoe cleared her throat at last and tried to keep from laughing. "Uh, Candy, of course, must have been, uh, a nickname for Carlton Doubleday, I suppose?"

"Of course!" Cramer asserted.

Zoe turned aside, afraid she'd laugh. Jean was on her own. "Jean, I'll see you later. I hope you both have an instructive evening." When she could face them again without laughing, she turned. They both looked like they'd give her anything if she'd only go along with them. For their sake, she tried to keep a straight face. "You better leave now. Otherwise, you'll be late."

"Of course. Good evening, Mr. Cramer," Jean greeted with a twist of her shoulders. "How are you?"

"Good evening, Miss Harnett. I'm fine." He frowned. "Are you having some trouble with your coat?"

"Oh, it seems to have developed a life of its own. I swear, one sleeve has tried to grow shut, and this collar is trying to strangle me."

"Stand still. I'll try to help." Cramer straightened her coat collar. "Better?"

"It's a miracle, doctor! How are you on sleeves?"

"That's not my specialty. Just collars."

Jean looked at him sharply. Him, and his dry sense of humor! "Uh, I suppose we best leave now." As she passed Zoe, she shot her a severe look. Zoe's eyes were definitely twinkling.

With the door safely shut, Zoe began to laugh.

Out on the porch, Cramer turned to Jean. "Is Miss Bergetti calling us back?"

"No," Jean mumbled as she stepped off the porch. "Miss Bergetti isn't calling."

Cramer gave the apartment door one final puzzled glance and followed Jean.

Jean HarnettWhere stories live. Discover now