Kitty Doyle was a regular at Pluto’s, the spa owned by Carrie Karon. It was Tuesday, and she was there for her weekly lunchtime appointment, chatting with Carrie, who this week was washing and cutting her hair.
“Might be one of the last times you’ll see me here, Carrie.” Kitty greedily rubbed her fingers together over the black cape, as she tilted back for the wash. “I’m going on to greener pastures.”
“You mean you’re getting a better job somewhere else, or do you mean that you’re going to take your motivation show on the road, like in those traveling conventions?”
“Moving on. Selling up. Applying for jobs. The first one I tried to get might not happen, but I don’t really want it anyway, working with a bunch of kids. I’m sick of kids.”
“Oh, which ones?”
“For a twirler organization down south.”
“I was asking which kids you’re sick of now? You’ve never ever mentioned being with any kids.”
“Greg’s brats. Complete pain.” Kitty murmured, basking in the warmth of the wash water surging around her head.
“My niece used to be a twirler.” Carrie commented, as she began to rinse. Kitty complained.
“Too cold.” Carrie thought the water was already very warm but adjusted the temperature higher to suit, thinking of her soon to be scalded red hands. Kitty now seemed quite content.
“Does that mean you’ll be breaking up with Greg?”
“Yah. It was getting way old. Do you know he wanted me to change? Me!” Carrie turned the water much colder. “How much can a man want? Hey, that’s cold!”
“Imagine that.” Carrie abruptly turned off the water, popped Kitty upright in the chair, and threw a towel around her hair. Then she added another towel, wrapping that one like a scarf around Kitty’s neck, and mouth, just to cover her face. Where had she ever read that the towel was the single most useful thing in the universe? “How much do you want off today? You want just a trim?” Carrie supposed even that would be too much self-improvement for Kitty to bear. “So, did the police talk to you yet?” Kitty removed the stifling towel.
“Yes, a trim and yes, they talked to me, though I can’t imagine why. You?”
“Keep your chin down. They asked about my guests, at the shower I gave Sunday night. Who was there, when they came, when they went, whether they let anyone else in when they came and went, whether we used the pool, and on and on. They finally seemed to get that we had nothing to do with any of it. They actually called some of them just to confirm the others’ stories! Sheesh, all we were doing was having a party in my home, not trying to drown someone.”
“I thought both those detectives were jerks, too. They tried to get me confess that I knew the idiot in the pool. As if.”
“Keep your head up!” Carrie re-positioned the offending chin. “Guy says there will be all hell to pay for it, though I don’t see it that way. What’s it got to do with us? Nobody has ever had one single problem using that pool before. It’s got all the usual warnings posted, all the rescue equipment it’s supposed to have. It’s a private pool in a secure building.”
“Right. I was a lifeguard, you know.”
“So is there a law that says we have to have a lifeguard?”
“Not in a private pool, like you said. Not if it’s properly marked. Not for a trespasser. Anyway, I heard he was drunk.”
“Did you? Who from?”
“Don’t remember. Everybody’s starting to talk about it, just like we are.”
“I just never knew you talked to anyone in our building.” Over the whine of the hair dryer, Carrie observed, “The police said not to but I mean, really, as you say, people talk. Anyway, Guy—you know he’s on the committee about that proposal next door?—anyway, he says there’s going to be a special meeting soon, so we’ll get the skinny then. Bet it’ll end up costing us big time.”
“I’m outta there, so you can pay my share. The cops asked me about that proposal too, like I care.”
“So, which of your realtor friends are you using to sell your place?”
“No way. Doing it myself.”
“Really? Are you going to be around that much?”
“What do you mean?”
“For showing it to people who want to see it? You’ll have to be there to let them in.” Carrie wondered if Kitty always missed what was so obvious to everyone else.
“I guess. They’ll just have to come when I want them to and leave when I’m ready. I’m hoping to get lucky and sell it right away. You know anybody looking?”
“Ha! My customers say they want to buy but don’t have the money. Some of them are canceling on me, too. If they can’t afford a haircut, they sure aren’t going to buy a condo. I’ll let you know if I hear of anyone. You ever sold a unit before? You know what to do? I don’t, wouldn’t have a clue. My brother handled it when we bought.”
“It’s easy. They write an offer. I write back and tell them it’s worth more than they offered. They want the unit so they pay my price. Any fool can do it. Realtor shmealtor.”
“Are you worried about negative publicity at our building?”
“Nothing to do with me.” Kitty shrugged.
“Why did you buy in our building in the first place?”
What Kitty could see if she opened her shades, without the Alchemy interrupting the NE view
“It used to be a great address, didn’t it? Plus I have a lake view, whether I ever look at it or not. I always keep the shades drawn, anyway. I like it dark, it’s easier on the eyes.”
“I, for one, hope it continues to be a great address, in spite of all the bad stuff that’s happened. Incidentally, where will you put up a sign? Don’t think the association allows ‘For sale’ signs, do they?”
“Well, I am just on the first floor, not like the penthouse or anything, so my window sign should be visible. ”
“But Kitty,” Carrie finally had to laugh at her, “your unit faces the lake. How in heck will anybody see a sign in your window, even if you can have one. Guy always says you have to check the by-laws to see what’s allowed. Can’t you just pay for it to go in the MLS, where it’s noticed at least, or are you planning a big ad campaign?” Carrie whisked away the cape from around Kitty’s neck.
“What, so stupid agents can traipse through with nosy creeps whenever they want? Not likely. I’m not going to pay for anything.”
“That’s nuts, Kitty. I mean, that’s the whole point, isn’t it, to get people going through it. Or is your buyer going to pop out of thin air. Poof!”
“You’ll see. This will be a snap.”
“So do you want to schedule for next time or not?”
“I’ll make an appointment sure but don’t be surprised if I don’t show. Once I make up my mind to do something, it usually gets done.”