The porch was Perry's favorite room. It was on a corner of his small, square house, with louvered windows on one side and glass doors onto the deck on the other. With all the glass it was usually cooler than the rest of the house, except on warm summer days, but he didn't mind that.
When he had bought the house, the porch had had screens on one side, but he had liked the room so much that he had installed the windows instead, so he could use it in all seasons. It faced west, and he frequently sat there to watch the sun set.
He sat on his porch on that cool, fall morning, his hands cupped around a steaming mug of coffee. He still wore the T-shirt and sweatpants he had slept in, with a robe over that.
His newest article about U-town had been published two days before, and he was sure there would be a controversy about it. But he'd felt it had needed to be said, and his publisher always read his correspondance and summarized it for him.
Perry's house was the only place he felt really safe. Only three people in the world knew where it was (well, he reminded himself, it was a few more than that). He had no telephone, no fax machine, no television and only a small AM radio that he used to listen to baseball games.
"You can't hide forever," she said.
He almost winced as he turned to face his uninvited guest. Nicky Porter stood in the doorway to the living room, a plate of muffins in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. Perry had been exerting all his will power to ignore the pleasant aroma of the muffins baking.
"I'm not hiding," he said patiently (how many times had he said that since her arrival?).
She was probably about sixteen (she was evasive on this point), around 5'2" and (ahem, he thought) shapely. He was uncomfortably aware that she was certainly naked under the white terry cloth robe she wore. Her long, ash-blonde hair was wrapped up in a towel after the shower she had taken while the muffins were baking.
He caught a sudden whiff of shampoo and damp flesh through the smell of the muffins.
"I'm not hiding," he repeated. "Just waiting. Why are you in such a hurry?"
She sighed and sat in the other chair, placing the plate of muffins on the small table between them. She stretched out her tawny legs, then tucked them under her in the chair.
Aging "Boy Wonder" Novelist
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"You think this place is so well hidden," she said. "It's not. If we don't get moving soon, we'll miss our chance."
He sighed as she picked up a muffin. By this time he had given up on reminding her that his travel plans didn't include her.
After a moment, she waved the half-eaten muffin at him. "These are for you, too, you know," she said.
He snorted quietly and leaned forward to take one. Still warm. Blueberry. He took a bite.
"Pretty good, I must say. Nice to have a woman's touch around here."
She sighed, not even rising to the bait. She suddenly looked right at him. "I've been thinking," she said.
Just after dark that night, there was a crack of thunder
and the rains started all at once.
Perry and Nicky were sitting across the low coffee table from each other in the living room. He was sitting on the sofa, his feet up on the coffee table, reading a newspaper that was a little over a month old. She was lying on the day bed, reading one of his novels (the second, Distance and Time) and periodically making notes on a small pad. He wondered if she knew how crazy this was making him.
He looked up suddenly. "Did we close the car windows?" he asked. Before he could continue with, "I'd better go check," she was rushing to the door. She grabbed his yellow rain slicker from the peg as all the windows on that side of the house lit up as if God had flicked a huge light switch so that He could take a quick look around.
The door slammed shut behind her as the thunder came. Two seconds at most, Perry noted absently. And here he was with the perfect opportunity to peek at the notes she had been making while reading his novel.
Feeling virtuous, he stood up and went into the kitchen. There was another flash of lightning and all the lights in the house went out.
"Oh, fine," he said quietly to himself. He stood in the center of the kitchen and waited for the next flash, which was bright enough and long enough for him to locate his flashlight and turn it on. He got his tin of kitchen matches and lit the stove, putting on a kettle of water for tea.
perry has unexpected visitors