Page 12 of Phoenix Fire

She must have fallen asleep. The telephone was ringing from some deep place, growing louder, more urgent, to her returning consciousness.

“Darn it!” she mumbled, her words bouncing off the wet tiled walls. She struggled out of the bath, feeling heavy and unfocused, reached for a large bath towel and wrapped it around her dripping body. “Oh, I'll never get it in time. Should have connected the answering machine.” She almost slipped on a throw rug next to the bathroom door as she hurried to reach the phone in her bedroom.

She was too late. She picked up the receiver and heard a dial tone. It could have been Jason, she thought. “Darn!” she said again, angry with herself for missing the call.

She glanced at the digital clock on the bedside table. It was 9:40 PM. Maybe she would call him. His telephone number? She didn't have it. Maybe it was listed in the phone directory. She checked the thick book of listings but there was no Jason Prince. She called the information operator and was informed that the customer had requested an unlisted number.

She felt tormented and trapped by the small and tedious details of the moment. She wanted to talk to Jason. It was probably he who had just called, and she did not have his unlisted number. She was also dripping water all over the carpet. “Darn! Darn! Darn!”

She turned off Puccini and returned to the bathroom, unplugged the tub drain, and thoroughly dried herself. She paused to check herself in the wall mirror above the counter sink. Her hair was pasted against her forehead and was hanging in damp clusters about her head. Her face had a rosy tint and her eyes gleamed and teasingly grinned back at her. She puckered her lips in a mock sadness and finally laughed at the mirror image. Her petite but ample breasts danced a jaunty jig in time with her laughter and she became momentarily beguiled by the curve and flow of her body. Her self-appraisal did not disappoint her. She raised her eyebrows, puckered her mouth, and slowly nodded her head in silent affirmation.

The telephone rang again, startling her. With an unaccountable embarrassment, a mild gasp escaped her lips as she grabbed her terrycloth robe from the hook on the bathroom door. She rushed to the phone and reached it on the third ring.

“Hello!” her voice was high pitched. She virtually squealed into the mouthpiece.

“Hi, Jenny, it's Jason. Am I calling at a bad time?”

Her heart leaped. “No, no, Jason. It's a good time. I mean, no, it's fine. How are you?”

“I'm okay, but you sound out of breath. Are you okay?”

“Oh, I'm good. Just soaking in the tub and rushed to get the phone. Did you call earlier? A few minutes ago?” She sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her robe more snugly to her.

“No, it wasn't I. Another admirer, my guess.”

“You would guess wrong, sir. I'm just fresh out of admirers. I was hoping you would call.”

“I meant to call sooner. A few things came up which needed to be worked out. I'm glad you were hoping for my call.”

“I'm glad that you're glad. Don't know if I should even tell you this, but when the phone rang earlier, while I was in my bath, and I didn't get to it in time, I was going to call you. But I had no number to call, and you are unlisted.”

“Well, we can surely rectify that immediately. Would you like my unlisted number?” He asked in a toying manner.

“Only if you want me to have it. It strikes me all of a sudden that I can be rather presumptuous.”

“Jenny, get a pen and paper.”

Jason gave Jenny his unlisted home number, his address, and his office number, then added for fun: “You may not be impressed but very few people have my home phone number. Grandma Myrena has it. Carlton has it, and there are times when I wish he didn't have it. My secretary has the number. Very few people have it.”

“Then I'm truly honored.”

“I'm honored that you're honored.”

They both laughed.

Jason continued, “I'm calling to see if you could possibly get the afternoon off tomorrow. I'd like to take you along to see 'Apple Brown Betty.' What do you think? Too short a notice?”

“No, it's not too short. My two meetings are in the morning so it should be okay. No, I know it's okay. It's very seldom I take an afternoon off and I never take sick days. I'm too good to the Stratford Agency. It's time for me to play hooky. What time are you thinking?”

“I can pick you up in front of your office building around noon. We can have lunch on the way out to Casa Grande. I know a great Chinese food place. You like Chinese fare?”

“Love it.”

“Then we're on for tomorrow. We'll have fun.”

“I know we will. That's because I find your company so enjoyable, Mr. Prince.” She veritably cooed into the phone.

“You're much too flattering and kind, Ms. Mason. But, listen, I do apologize for not calling you sooner. It was just that some things were … well, I'll tell you about it someday. You off to early bedtime?”

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