Jean Harnett

Chapter 19: Interests

"No work, no eat," Jean announced as they finished the meal.

"Now, what a minute," Jerry protested. "You don't mean you expect Bob and me to do the dishes!"

Jean crossed her arms. "That's exactly what I mean."

"But that skillet you fried the hamburger in is greasy! Yuck!"

Jean shivered in mock horror. "I know. But it's good for the hands. Here." She tossed aprons to the brothers. "You both will look lovely in ruffles."

Jerry held up his arms. "Do me, Jean. I simply can't tie a bow."

"Oh, you! You are incorrigible." She stood in front of him and tried to reach behind him with the apron strings, but she couldn't quite make a bow. It was obvious that Jerry was enjoying her struggles. She pulled the apron back into her hands. "Turn around!"

He happily complied, then watched over his shoulder as she tried to figure out how to put the apron on him without wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Here! Put this up against your tummy."

"It'd be twice as much fun if you did it."

"I'm glad you're not a student in this school anymore," she muttered as she finished. "There! Finished! You could model for Good Housekeeping now."

"But Bob couldn't. Look at that bow! Better let Jean fix it for you."

"My bow is perfectly fine, thank you."

Jerry leaned toward Bob and said in a loud stage whisper, "The idea, dear brother, is to get the pretty lady to put her arms around you."

"That, dear brother, is a pleasure that she seems to have reserved for you alone. Now, where is that dishpan?"

Robert Cramer rolled up his shirt sleeves, plunged his hands into the soapy water, and proceeded to make fast work of the pile of dirty dishes, even the greasy ones. "Come on, Jerry. You'll have to dry faster than that if you want to keep up with me."

"Is this the way you push your teachers?" Jerry demanded. "It's a wonder they don't call you a slave driver."

"I expect that's one of the nicer things they call me." He raised an eyebrow at Jean. "Isn't that right, Miss Harnett?"

"Whatever are you talking about, Mr. Cramer?" Jean tried to say innocently.

"You have to admit, Bob, she does that rather well."

"I've known her longer than you have, Jerry. She's overacting."

Jean blushed. Robert Cramer had realized that about her? She thought only her closest friends knew what a ham she was. Besides, Robert Cramer had always acted too distracted by his own cares and concerns to notice her behavior. Maybe she wasn't invisible to him, after all.

Then, Robert Cramer did something extraordinary. He covered Jean's discomfort by drawing attention away from her.

"Is that all of the dishes, Mother?"

"I think so, Bob. You did a magnificent job."

"Thank you."

"Now, if you'll excuse me for a few minutes, I want to get my sweater from upstairs," Alida said as she stood up. "Then I'll be out in the living room."

Cramer turned to Jean. "And does my performance meet with your approval, Miss Harnett?"

Jean, now fully recovered from her embarrassment, said, "I believe it does, Mr. Cramer."

He untied his apron and laid it on the kitchen table. "Then, if you'll excuse me, I have some class preparation for tomorrow."

"I didn't mean to keep you from your homework, Mr. Cramer."