Chapter 8
Although it was late and her body was just one big ache by the time she got home, Wanda phoned Art. He wanted to drop everything and rush to her, but she tried to talk him out of it.
"I just had to talk to you darling and hear your wonderful voice again," she told him. "I'll be all right now. I'm going to soak in a hot bath for a while and everything will be fine. In the morning, I'll go to a doctor just to be on the safe side."
She listened to him for a minute then laughed. As she did, it sounded strange and wonderful. It was as if she hadn't laughed in years.
"No, darling, I'm on the pill, remember? It's other things I'm concerned about.
"Honestly, darling," she answered his next concerned question, "I'm not hysterical. It just feels so good to be alive and free and able to laugh again. That's all there is to it, really."
After a while, they ended their conversation. Wanda poured herself a very big drink and ran a tub. It was a lot hotter than usual and she knew there was chance that she would emerge from it looking like a boiled lobster, but it was important that it be hot. There was a lot of dirt to be washed off and she suspected that it would take a lot of hot baths to do it.
It was just a little after midnight when she slipped into the tub. She placed her refilled glass on the floor and slipped into the hot water slowly as it burned her feet. In time, she was able to lower herself all the way into it and felt the water caressing her tired, abused body.
Reaching down, she picked up her drink. It was both strong and good. She leaned back and tried to make her body and her mind unwind. It was going to be a very slow process, she realized.
When the water began to cool, she put her glass down on the floor, pulled the plug out and let half the water run out. After that, she turned on the hot water again and felt it hot and cleansing on her body again.
At one o'clock, she was still in the tub and wishing she had brought the evening paper with her. At twenty after one, she missed not only the paper, but the contents of the glass that had been drained.
Five minutes later, she made the big decision to get out and go for a walk. She knew it meant tracking water all over the apartment as she picked up the paper and poured another drink, but it seemed worth it, somehow. She did it.
Back in the tub, she felt the same warm glow she had experienced earlier, but with a difference. Now, there seemed to be a definite possibility that the hot water would eventually clean away all the dirt of the evening.
When she finished reading the paper, Wanda was astounded to see that it was after two o'clock. She still had to be at school in the morning by nine-thirty, she thought, and getting up was going to be tough. I'll worry about it when the time comes, she told herself as she drained a little more water and turned the hot tap on again.
It was close to three o'clock when Wanda finally decided that if she didn't get out of the tub she was going to become waterlogged. At that, she was thankful that she had kept adding bath oil to the water through her long immersion.
Towelling herself, she felt almost clean again. In spite of everything though, she still wasn't even a little bit sleepy. Instead of going to bed, she walked naked into the kitchen and poured another drink.
Turning out the light behind her, she walked out to the balcony and let the cool night air add its cleansing effect to all the water had done. Almost at once, she felt better. In time, she knew, she would get over what had happened this evening.
The phone startled her. Who, she wondered, could be calling at this time of night? Because of the darkness of the room, she had to walk carefully to avoid tripping over the furniture.
When she heard Art's voice again, she felt the warm glow of relief sweep over her.
"Oh, it's so good to hear your voice again darling," she told him. "Why on earth are you calling though?"
"Because I don't want to scare the hell out of you by pounding in your door or ringing the buzzer for you to let me in."
"Where on earth are you, darling?" she asked then in amazement.
"I'm in the phone booth just outside the apartment," he answered as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"But that isn't possible," she protested. "I just talked to you and you were home."
"Of course I was," he replied, "but they've invented things like airplanes and you can charter one in a hell of a big hurry if you know your way around. Are you going to open the door or aren't you?"
"Oh, yes darling, yes," she almost cried. "Please hurry. I need you so much."
It seemed like hours before Wanda heard the door buzzer sound. She pressed it with an urgency that even the mechanical device had to understand.
She kept her finger on it for a long time. When she let it go, she hurried to the door and held it open as she watched the elevator indicator climb with agonizing slowless to her floor.
The door opened then and Art stepped out. Stepped hardly describes his action. He ran out. He ran almost as fast as Wanda did. Nude and anxious, she ran down the hall to meet him and threw herself into his arms.
She didn't mind at all when he picked her up and carried her back into the apartment. One time before, she recalled, he had carried her and it had been great. This time, it was even greater.
It seemed to take only seconds before Art was as naked as she and they were lying together in the comfortable bed.
She had cried and laughed and they had kissed and he had tried to make love to her but she wouldn't let him.
"Oh no, my darling," she had told him gently. "You can't know how much I want you right now, but I can't let you until I've seen a doctor. Please hold me."
He held her and in time, sleep came to both of them.