No Wife Required!

“Don’t get me wrong, Lorraine. He’s wonderful and perfectly behaved, but I’m beginning to understand why new mothers always look so harried and exhausted.”

Lorraine chuckled. “It’s a huge responsibility. I take it you’ve decided not to volunteer as a foster parent to another monkey.”

“I don’t think so. He needs a home with lots of room and a backyard where he can play. Every time I get down to work on someone’s accounts, he wants to help. I end up playing with him and accomplish nothing.

“But I wouldn’t have missed the experience for the world. Someone other-abled will adore him because he’s so loving and good. I had no idea how much he craves companionship.”

“He’s just like the rest of us. Lacey—you’re a friend in a million. I’m confident that I’ll have George home with me permanently a week from Tuesday. When’s Valerie due back?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe a month. Maybe less.”

“I’ll help you find a new place when the time comes to move. Has George missed me?”

“I’ll say. But I think he’s had a pretty good time with me.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. You’ve spoiled him rotten, I just know it. I can’t wait to see him. Which reminds me. You know that guy on the radio you can’t stand? Max Jarvis?”

“Yes?”

“I think he called my house by mistake a few minutes ago.”

Lacey sat up in bed, instantly alert. “He called?”

“Yes. He said, ‘Hi, Lorraine. This is Max.’ And I said, ‘Max who?’ and he said, ‘Max Jarvis. How many other men do you know named Max?’ And I said I didn’t know any. That’s when he got a little testy and asked me if my phone number was the same number he read out loud, and I said yes.

“So he started over and said he was trying to reach someone named Lorraine but he didn’t know her last name. I told him my name was Lorraine Walker. He said I was the wrong Lorraine because my voice wasn’t husky enough. Then he hung up. He was really riled. Don’t you think that’s funny? Max Jarvis of all people?”

Lacey closed her eyes. “That’s really funny, Lorraine.” How could she have been so stupid? When the producer at the radio station asked for her name and phone number, she gave him Lorraine’s. But she’d forgotten to tell Lorraine.

“Lacey? Are you there?”

“Yes. It’s a long story. Come on over and I’ll explain everything, but for heaven’s sake, if Max Jarvis should call again, tell him the Lorraine he is looking for can be reached at my number.”

The news that he had tried to get in touch gave Lacey a brand new reason to greet the day. She sailed through her chores and had George ready to go when Lorraine arrived.

After hearing the story, Lorraine agreed that Lacey needed to determine Max’s marital status before any more time went by. Perry had done too much damage for her to take any chances.

Much as she enjoyed George, Lacey found it liberating to have the condo to herself. She worked nonstop through the dinner hour on her clients’ accounts. When Greg, a close family friend from childhood, knocked on the door, then let himself in with a key, she was still doing figures.

“What do you mean you don’t want to see A Majority of One?” he barked a few minutes later. “It’s your favorite movie of all time.”

“I know,” Lacey sighed.

“And we don’t have to hurry home to George. He’s gone for two whole days and nights.”

“I know.”

“So, what do you want to do? We could still make the last few plays of the Utah-Wyoming game.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk. I’ve met this man, but I don’t want anything to do with him if he’s married.”

Greg rubbed his chin pensively. “Why can’t you just ask him the next time he calls?”

She took a deep breath. “Because he doesn’t know my real name or my number.”

“That could be a problem,” he muttered. “Why don’t we stop being cryptic. Who is it? Another slick attorney like Perry?”

“Actually, it’s Max Jarvis.”

“The hotshot from California? The one you can’t stand? It happened awfully fast, didn’t it? Or maybe being on the air sort of went to your head.”

She had to admit it had been pretty exciting to tangle with Max in front of thousands of listeners. In fact she couldn’t remember a time when she’d been more stimulated. Except of course when she thought about tangling with him without an audience, which had little to do with words and more to do with—

“Take my advice and find a man with a real job.”

She had no comeback to that. In fact she’d been guilty of thinking the same thing the first time she’d heard The Voice.

Out of the window she spotted a lighted ‘U’ on the mountain. It was too late to drive to the stadium. The Utes had won the football game. “Maybe I’ll call in on the air and put the question to him one more time. He can’t very well evade me without his whole listening audience giving him a hard time.”

“You’re really gone on him.” Greg didn’t sound in the least happy about it.

“Let’s just say I’m interested. He asked me out.”

“When did all this happen?”

“After the show.”

“I don’t like it, Lacey.”

“You sound just like Nester when he’s trying to come on like my father.”

“You need watching. I told Valerie I’d keep an eye on you.”

“That’s funny. I told her I’d make sure you got back together with Annette. What you two need to do is start having fun together again.”

“Annette and I don’t have fun. We fight.”

“Then think up something wild and surprise her. For our first date—that is, if we get that far—I’m going to ask Max to take a scuba diving class with me. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do. But coming from California, he probably already knows how and is terrific at it.”

Greg scowled. “How come you never asked me to do that?”

“Because that’s the sort of thing you should do with Annette. Why don’t you call her while I turn on the radio?”

She hurried into the kitchen for her Walkman and came back to the living room wearing her earphones. Greg had buried his head in the newspaper.

“...All you Radio Talk listeners. As you know, once a week, this hour is devoted to the outrage of the week. I’m Max Jarvis filling in tonight for Lon Freeman, who’s ill.

“I hope I won’t be offending you when I tell you that of all the states in the U.S., including the foreign countries where I’ve driven, Utah stands alone in its insistence to pass in the right-hand lane. The law states that faster traffic should pass on the left, but you Utahns act as if you’ve never heard of that law. I wonder if some of you would call in and tell me why this phenomenon only occurs in Utah?