Chapter 4
By the time Joyce returned, Steve was fully dressed. So was Caryn.
"All right," Steve said to Caryn. "Your turn to go to your apartment, pack your things, and bring them here. At the moment I'm pre-disposed to be nice to you, Caryn. After all, we did have quite a session. So if you get back here within a half hour, I'll give you the larger of the two remaining bedrooms."
"Hey, that's not fair," Joyce snapped. "She should be made to earn it. I mean, I should have as much of a shot at it as her."
"Fair?" Steve laughed. "There's no such thing as fair in this house. Fair is what I say it is. Fair is doing what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it. I'm telling Caryn that if she gets back within a half hour, she gets the larger bedroom. That's it! End of discussion!"
Joyce shrugged and took her suitcase into the smaller bedroom. She found it intimately furnished with a nice, solid double bed, a small dressing table, a chest of drawers, and a large closet. She quickly put all her dresses in the closet and her clothing into the drawers.
Walking into the living room, she saw Steve sitting on the sofa, watching some TV.
"Now what?" she asked, waiting for him to make the next move as she smoothed her hands over her red-and-white dress.
"Now you make me some supper," he told her. "You'll find the refrigerator well-stocked, as well as the pantry. You can make something for yourself, if you wish, and even something for Caryn. But whatever you do, remember, my needs come first."
"What, in particular, do you want?" Joyce asked.
"Pan-fried meat should be medium rare. Oven cooked meat should be well done. Whatever you do, don't broil anything. I hate broiled meat."
"Vegetables?" Joyce asked.
"Whatever you find," he shrugged.
She nodded and took a cigarette from her purse. As she was about to light up, he snapped, "From now on, both you and Karyn have given up cigarettes. I don't want any smoke in this house that doesn't come from food."
"Hey, that's not fair," Joyce insisted.
"I already defined fair for you," he replied. "Don't worry, honey, you'll get a chance to do a lot of cigar-smoking, if you get my meaning."
Joyce understood. She understood only too well.
"You're disgusting!" she snapped at him, suddenly angry at him all over again, thinking how much he looked like her ex as he sat there.
"Ah? So you don't like cigar smoking?" he asked.
"My former husband, Ralph, tried to make me do that. I wouldn't do it for him, and I won't do it for you."
"Don't ever use the words "won't, don't, can't," in this house, Joyce," he warned. "You'll do whatever I want you to do. You'll do it when I want, where I want, for as long as I want. Now go and cook up something good. I'm hungry, and before you and I commence with what I'm certain we'll both enjoy, I want some sustenance."
Angry, Joyce hurried into the kitchen. She found the food in the refrigerator and the pantry, and in less than twenty minutes, she had three sizzling steaks ready for eating, along with some canned peas and carrots and some mashed potatoes made from a box.
Caryn had returned and she put all her clothing into the large bedroom. The three of them proceeded to eat. Afterward, Caryn made the coffee. Then they relaxed in the living room and watched TV.