always be like that?
She closed her eyes.
A horn rang out across the street. Jill shrank together and shot up. The candles had long gone out. Stars shone through the open balcony door, against a backdrop of pitch black night.
She had no idea where she was. Then recollection struck.
"Oh, my God." Jill grabbed her turban with one hand and ran to the bathroom, peering into the magnifying mirror. Her face mask was stone dry, cracked in several places.
She looked like a sick mummy.
"Please, God, please, let it have no adverse effects if used too long," she prayed and jerked at the faucet. "Please, let my hair not be orange and my skin not be blue, and let . . . damn!" The faucet was stuck for good.
Jill grabbed it with all her strength and tried again.
She heard a crack. Something gave way, and water gushed out like a jet, filling the sink rapidly.
Jill lifted her hand and stared at it, still holding the faucet. "It's come off," she whispered. "The whole damn thing has just come off!"
She tried to jam it back, but it only made crunching noises and wobbled around, good for nothing.
"I need a . . .," in her panic, she couldn't think of the word. "A . . . a tool . . . a what's it!" Whatever it was, she didn't have it.
The water rose steadily, nearing the edge of the sink.
Jill ran out of the bathroom, out of her apartment, into the corridor.
Mrs. Penny? She couldn't help.
The new neighbor!
Jill ran to the door marked with an F and rang the bell, never taking off her finger. When nothing moved, she banged her fist on the door. "Open up, please!" she shouted. "It's an emergency!"
The door was wrenched open.
"What on earth . . .?" The man in front of her wasn't much taller than she was, so she could see his face even without her glasses. He stared at her, his eyes widening, his mouth going slack.
Jill lifted her hand, still clutching the faucet.
He jumped back a step, as if to close the door.
"No, wait!" Jill shouted and shoved the faucet under his nose. "The faucet broke. I need a . . . a tool . . . a . . you know? The water is running, I can't stop it! I'm from apartment E."
He didn't move, just stared at her.
"Damn it, I'm your neighbor!" Jill got desperate. Why didn't he react? "Do you have a . . . a toolbox?"
His eyes fell on the faucet. And finally, just as Jill was about to push him aside and run into his apartment to look for a toolbox herself, he nodded. "A wrench."
Jill hopped up and down. "Yes. YES! You got one?"
He nodded again, turned on his heels, and disappeared through an open door into his kitchen. Jill dithered on his threshold. What the hell did he do? Carve one?
When he shot out of his kitchen, she pivoted around and ran back to her apartment, leading the way. At the door to her bathroom, she slammed to a stop.
Small waves rippled towards them across the tiles. He pushed past her, splashing through the water. Her bra floated up, welcoming him in.
Her neighbor bent over the gushing faucet and started to work on it. Jill could see nothing but his back. The water gurgled, something metallic clanked. "You manage?" She tried to catch a glimpse by squeezing herself to the side. Her nose almost touched his back.
All at once, she recoiled.
He didn't wear a t-shirt. Gulping, she looked down. Thank God, at least he wasn't completely naked. There was a pair of perfectly respectable shorts where they should be. But his feet were bare, standing like islands in a sea. Jill blinked. Shaking herself, she grabbed as many towels as she could, throwing them onto the floor.
"I need my tongs," he suddenly said. "Can you go to the kitchen and get my tool kit?"
"Yeah." Jill swirled around, ran to his kitchen and found a toolbox sitting on his kitchen table. Thank God he'd only just moved in and had everything handy. She grabbed it and chased back, shoving it close to him. "Here."
"Thanks." He stared down at it, his blond hair falling into his face. "Can you get those tongs there, the ones with the red handle?"
"Sure."
"Now come here."
She couldn't see how she could come any closer, but he already continued, "I've managed to turn it a bit, but it's stuck now. If you hold the wrench in place, I'll try to manage the last bit with the tongs." He moved to the side to make room for her.
Jill crouched down beneath him and grabbed the wrench.
He bent over her, settled the tongs in the right position and slowly turned the remains of the faucet to close the tab.
Jill could smell his aftershave and felt his arms moving above her. It was a curiously nice feeling.
The jet of water slowed, then sputtered and died.
"That's it."
She heard the satisfaction in his voice. Jill heaved a deep sigh. "Thank you." She wriggled out of her position and turned around to face him. "Thank you so much," she repeated. "You've saved me."
He stared at her, his tongs forgotten in his hand.
Mary was right. Her neighbor was an attractive guy. With dark green eyes and a square chin that gave him a determined look.
Jill tried a smile. Something cracked on her cheeks. She frowned. It cracked some more, this time on her forehead. She put up her hand and touched her face. Tiny flakes, light green, fell off and settled on the wet floor, sprinkling it like parsley. Jill's eyes followed them. "Oh, my God," she whispered. She'd completely forgotten her face mask. With troubled eyes, she lifted her head to stare at her dumb-founded neighbor.
At this moment, her turban fell off, revealing the custard cream on her hair, with a topping of crumpled aluminum foil. The air felt cold on her exposed ears.
A corner of his mouth quivered.
Jill saw it and could feel herself blushing. At least he won't see me going red, she thought, after all, my face is completely covered with green paste. Then she realized she was mistaken. Her ears were bare. An image of herself flashed through her mind: Yellow paste on top, garnished with aluminum foil, cracked green face, glowing ears, red-rimmed eyes. She was a monster.
He didn't seem to be able to tear his gaze away.
"I . . . aah . . . em . . .," Jill swallowed. "I had a Wellness Evening."
He blinked.
Jill made a furtive move with her hands. "You know. Pamper yourself. Get beautiful."
He seemed dazed.
"Only I . . . em . . . fell asleep. So it's not quite finished yet."
He had a very attractive mouth. She was close enough to see it. Clear lines. Not too thin. Now even the second corner started to twitch, but he finally found his voice.
"What's not quite finished?" he asked.
"The . . . " Jill took a deep breath. "The beauty process." A large flake of green paste shook itself loose from her face and floated to the ground without a sound.
"I see." His answer was grave, but his eyes were alight with laughter.
And all at once, Jill couldn't help herself. She burst out laughing. Her neighbor joined in, doubling up until he had to gasp for breath. Finally, Jill sagged against the wall and looked for something to wipe away her tears. He passed her the last clean towel.
"Thanks." She grabbed it, then stared in doubt at the fluffy white material.
"You can use my bathroom." He grinned. "I guess you know the way."
Jill grinned back. "I do."
Half an hour later, she started to feel like a human being again. A cautious peek into his mirror assured her that her hair still had its light brown color, though she wasn't sure about her face. It certainly felt clean. Scrubbed, rather. Flaming red, to be exact. She hoped it would tone down with time. She would have something to say to Mary.
Toweling her hair, she ventured out. It was easy to find her way, as his apartment was built like hers. Following a faint clicking sound, she wandered into his living room.
Her neighbor hu
nched over a computer, typing away as if he wanted to set the keyboard on fire. He had pulled on a white shirt, but his feet were still bare.
"You work in the middle of the night?" she asked.
He nodded. "I'm a night-owl." He threw her a lopsided grin. "And tonight, inspiration struck."
She stopped toweling her hair and lifted her eyebrows. There was something in his grin that filled her with foreboding. "Nothing to do with me, I hope?" she asked.
His grin deepened. "Uh. Kind of."
She came closer.
He swiveled around on his chair and got up. "I just couldn't resist."
Jill narrowed her eyes. "Couldn't resist what?"
"Well, I write children's books."
She got there with lightning speed. "And you've just had the perfect idea for a variation on 'The Beauty And The Beast'?"
"Beast E," he corrected her with a smile.
"Beasty?"
"No. Beast E." He was so close she could see the tiny wrinkles around his laughing green eyes. "You're in apartment E, aren't you?"
"Oh." Jill was speechless.
"But I must say, you've improved greatly with the washing."
Jill opened her mouth and closed it again.
He held out his hand. "By the way. My name's Joe."
She took it. His fingers closed around hers, warm and strong. "Hi, Beauty Joe. I'm Jill."
He pulled a face. "Ouch. I guess I had that coming."
It was Jill's turn to laugh. "Yep. You won't hear the last of it for a long time." Her hair started dripping again, leaving droplets on his linoleum floor.
He looked at her, considering. "I know what I'll do," he finally said, "to make amends."
Jill suppressed a smile and continued to towel her hair to stop it from dripping. "Well?"
"I'll mop up your bathroom floor."
By the time they had wrung out all the