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hot sun of the cul-de-sac for nearly an hour. Now they were stirring impatiently around the truck, like a bunch of hornets around a nest. “Here she comes,” called Janie, “all ready to answer your questions.”
    To Louise, it sounded as if the girl were doing a selling job on her, the message being, “This person isn’t really the dingbat she appears to be.” That’s what it was, all right. For Janie continued: “And don’t you worry a bit: You’ll find she’s really a very efficient woman.”

    When Louise first entered the house, it was like another world. Silent. Bare. Beautiful, but bare. A strange house—all windows and wood floors. Not much substance. Could they really
live
here?
    Janie was ecstatic.
    “Wow, what a fireplace! What a great brick wall!” shecried, giving it an affectionate pat. She loped around the living room, then made a quick circuit of the house, returning quickly to her mother.
    “I love it!” she cried, and gave Louise a big hug. “And to think it’s ours forever. It’s so
totally
modern, but my room even has a
nook.
You and Dad did real good.”
    “I’m glad you like it, dear.”
    The movers had formed a procession outside the front door, each carrying a dining room chair. Joe, the foreman, a giant of a man, introduced the three helpers. One was a young man. Two were older men with nicotine-stained fingers and stringy muscles who looked as bone-weary as old camels. One was limping a little, she noticed.
    As they brought each piece, Louise and Janie told them where to place it. They followed a plan of the house that identified where everything was to go. Louise had made it to scale and photocopied it so that she, Bill, and Janie each had a copy. She noticed Janie was timing it so she could direct the young man with whatever he was carrying.
    In less than an hour Bill arrived. He looked handsome in his business clothes, clean-shaven, crisp, every blond hair in place. He was carrying a paper bag of sandwiches and drinks for their lunch.
    “Good, you’re home,” said Louise. Her smile was tight. “We missed you on the ride here.”
    He took off his suit jacket and placed it on the counter, then kissed her lightly on the forehead. “What’s the matter … couldn’t you find it or something?”
    Louise crossed her arms over her chest. “As a matter of fact, we did have a little trouble. Is that so strange?”
    He came over and held her by her elbows. “Honey, don’t get mad at me. It’s moving day; we can’t afford to spend any energy on emotions.” The blue eyes twinkled. He gave her a little peck on the lips and moved his body so it touched hers. “I’m getting inside your iron cordon,” he warned, grinning.
    “Don’t try to co-opt me, Bill Eldridge. A person and their emotions are not easily separated.” But she smiled and hugged him. “Honey, I love the house, and the woods—the woods are magical. Thank you so much.”
    At that he kissed her lingeringly on the mouth, until she wished time could telescope and they could just forget the next six hours or so. Finally, he broke away. “And now to our favorite task—moving in.” He rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt and pitched in beside her and Janie, putting things in place as fast as the movers could bring them in.
    By early afternoon, the job was well on its way. She and Bill were tiring but holding up; Janie had taken off somewhere. Louise was beginning to feel better. She found it exciting to see how well their antique furniture looked, juxtaposed against the modern lines of the house. “I’m beginning to like it,” she told Bill, her eyes shining.
    “Wait until we hang a few pictures. It will be as if we never moved.”
    She passed by the recreation room and saw the youngest of the moving crew working there on his own. Tall, muscular, but hardly more than a boy. He was pounding together the Charleston bed that doubled as a couch. Out of the fatigue that had already settled in on her she