Who Kissed Charlie Fine?

Chapter 15

When Charlie awoke, Imogene's upside-down face was staring down at him. She raised herself on the arm of the couch behind where his head rested, leaning over him like a gymnast on a pommel horse about to tip over. Sounds of dishes clinking and the smell of coffee brewing were coming, no doubt, from Mary in the kitchen, too far away to rescue him from imminent mischief.

"Hello," he said. Imogene smiled. "What are you up to?"

"Your forehead is pinched."

"I frown when I sleep."

"Don't you like sleeping?"

"It's alright."

"I can fix that for you."

Hesitant, but too tired to resist, Charlie said simply, "Go ahead."

The little poppet got down off the couch and produced a roll of clear tape. She pulled off two little strips which he let her place horizontally on either side of his forehead crease, stretching his wrinkle apart.

"Voila," she said. "That's French."

He rubbed the tape and his smoothed brow with his hand. "It works, but is it very practical?"

"I know a song about foreheads. Want to hear it?"

"Shoot."

"There was a little girl and she had a little curl, right in the middle of her forehead. When she was good, she was very, very good, and when she was bad she was horrid."

"Are you often horrid?"

"Only if I forget not to be. You look more handsome now."

"Thank you."

"De nada. That's Spanish. I'll go see if your friend needs more taping."

"More? Try taping his arm hair down. If it doesn't work you can just pull it off."

"You'll do no such thing," said Mary, appearing suddenly with her hand held out to confiscate Imogene's tape. "Upstairs, Birdie. Brush your teeth and get dressed. This may be summer vacation, but you can't spend it in your pajamas all day."

Imogene left with no protest other than a large sigh. Now it was Mary's turn to look down on Charlie, right side up.

"Coffee?"

"That'd be great, thank you."

Charlie sat up and rubbed the sleep from his face.

"I've never seen you with stubble before," Mary said, surprising Charlie by brushing her knuckle softly against his jawline. It was less a stroke of tenderness than it was an impulse to examine a curiosity.

He might have reached for her hand, but she had left him to pick up the plate of toast he hadn't got around to eating the night before.

"I'm glad Imogene didn't have a razor," he said.

"You should be," Mary said, raising an eyebrow. She passed the plate in front of his face. "Continental breakfast?"

"Sorry about that. I wanted it when we made it."

"It's only toast. I'm sure you were too busy snooping around after I went to bed to eat it anyway."

Charlie wondered quickly if she had heard him in the hallway. She smiled at his guilty face.

"I'm just teasing," she said, letting him off a hook he hung on to.

"Now that you mention it, I wanted to ask you about the closet."

"Did you look inside for old times' sake?"

"Only looked, but I was wondering if there isn't a false door or dumbwaiter in there too?"