"Fine. I will," Dotty said, in a miffed tone. Shirley blew out a breath of relief when Charlie returned without her.
"I apologize for my aunt, Shirley. She is not usually like that."
"Only when she's breathing," Ethan mumbled.
Apparently the others overheard him and chuckled softly. Charlie heaved a sigh. "She's just looking out for my best interests since we're family."
He focused his gaze on Shirley and a deep look of concern crossed his face.
"Are you really all right, Shirley? Do you want me to call anyone? Your father maybe?"
"God, no!" I'd better squash that line of thinking immediately or I'll be hauled back to New Hampshire kicking and screaming.
"Look." She squared her shoulders.
"No one has to tiptoe around me. I'm not a fragile little girl. I'm tougher than I look. I understand that these things happen and assigning blame isn't especially constructive. I happened to step out of my car at the wrong time.
I think I've calmed down enough to phone the police and report the incident."
"No!" Ethan jumped right out of his chair and stood between her and the wall phone.
He reacted in such a commanding way that Shirley wondered what could possibly threaten a big guy like him. Did he need to avoid the police for his own reasons?
"I—I won't bring you into it if you don't want me to, but I should at least tell them what happened." She said.
"And how are you going to do that without bringing me and Flinch into it?" Charlie scratched his head.
"Who's Flinch?"
Shirley explained, "There was another man who intervened. Flinch's the one who held the attacker down while Ethan took me inside."
"Ohhh…"
The group of long-term residents groaned together. What was that about?
Then Morgana said, "Yeah, you don't want to do that… call the police, I mean."
Shirley looked from one person to the next and the only one who seemed confused was she.
"But why?"
"What good would it do?" Ethan rubbed the back of his neck.
"I mean, you're all right. You said so yourself. It's notlike the cops are going to find him. It's way too late now." Charlie shrugged.
"You can do what you want, Shirley, but to be honest, I'm not crazy about drawing attention to the building. A police car parked out front will do that. If for my reason they want to speak to me, it will wind up in the news and I really want to keep a low profile."
Ethan interjected, "He is a celebrity.
The last thing he needs is bad press." Kate, the pretty redhead from 3B drawled, "Sugar, we've all been asked to send any problems to the super, steve. He's Dotty's husband. If he or Charlie can handle the Mikeer, they will."
"Oh. Okay, I understand. I won't call them, then."
Seconds later, blue lights flickered intermittently through her window. Kate slapped a hand over her chest. "I do declare!"
"Damn," Ethan groaned.
"Dotty must have called them."
"We should have known that would happen," Brad said.
"Well, I'm out of here."
The following day, Shirley, more shaken up than she had let on, switched shifts with another nurse so she didn't have to work. Sleep had come hard and left her jaw sore from fitfully grinding her teeth.
She puttered around her apartment, unpacked boxes, and put her special things where she could see and enjoy them. Her new gold silk curtains were now proudly hung at the bay windows.
They were a splurge she couldn't stop herself from buying as she excitedly shopped for her first place. She didn't want to cover her hardwood floors as much as accent them, so she bought a five-by-seven faux oriental area rug to group her furniture around.
Other than those two things, everything else had been hers or extra things her family didn't need. Like a second set of dishes and stainless flatware. At one point, her motherdecided she wanted new patterns and, thankfully, she hadn't thrown out the old ones.
Shirley lined the pass-through from the kitchen to the dining area with plants. Her father had insisted he'd only kill them if she left them behind.
Her Mickey Mouse clock hung on the far wall of the kitchen over the table for two, adding some whimsy to the windowless galley. The excitement she should have felt while decorating her very first apartment eluded her.
"How dare some perv deprive me of this long-awaited thrill. This was supposed to be my time." She had planned to rebel.
To make up for the years she'd had to put up with being sheltered. Not only that, but she took care of others when she should have been out all night, kicking up her heels and raising hell.
A knock sounded on her front door. When she opened it, Charlie stood there looking yummier than ever.
"I wanted to stop by to see how you're feeling." He said.
She put on a cheery smile and said, "Oh, fine! Hey, wouldyou like to have dinner with me this evening?"
She hoped he'd realize the legitimacy of her work excuse and give heranother chance.
"Yeah, I'd love that." He replied.
Spending some time with her hot, new landlord could prove a welcome distraction.
"So, did you have to talk to the police at all?" Shirley asked.
"No. Fortunately I was able to avoid it simply by stating the truth. I had not seen anything." He answered.
"I guess either the cop wasn't a baseball fan and didn't recognize you or wore a good poker face. I would have felt terrible if the whole thing created negative press for you."
"No. Ethan was the only eyewitness—and did you notice he seemed to know the cop who asked the questions? Theynodded to each other and Ethan visibly relaxed as soon as he saw him."
"Yeah, I saw that. I thought they might even be related.
They have the same large build and facial features," Shirley said.
"Nothing was said, specifically, but I got the impression the news wouldn't make it to any reporters."
"That's a relief. I wonder what the others' reaction to Flinch meant. Why did they groan when they found out he had been the one left to deal with the criminal?" Charlie shrugged.
"I didn't understand that either." Shirley Replied.