Time After Time by Kay Hooper

shout from her loft saved Alex the necessity of responding, and she was soon busy inside the building. The painters were working quickly to get the first two lofts finished, and a crew of carpenters had started the finish work on two of the other lofts. The foreman of the crew had to consult both Alex and Noah on the placement of walls anddoorways since Noah had discovered that his architect had taken liberties with the plans, rendering them almost useless.
    Decisions made, the crew got down to work. Alex was kept busy between the painters and carpenters, especially since Noah had approved several inexpensive additions she had suggested to individualize each loft. She spent an hour dashing up and down the stairs with the sketches she’d drawn up for the workers’ benefit, busy out of habit, interest in the subject, and a desire to avoid thinking about anything else.
    As usual, she did more than her own work. Union representatives would most likely have been appalled, but not a single member of either crew objected.
    In the middle of everything Noah went upstairs, unpacked and loaded one of his cameras, and then came back down to literally blend in with the woodwork until no one noticed him. It was innate, that ability, but also one he had worked to perfect; both people and animals, he’d found,responded much better to a camera they weren’t aware of.
    So Noah made himself virtually invisible, the soft sounds his camera made undetectable in the general melée. And at several points during the afternoon he wished he had a tape recorder as well, because the process whereby Alex turned herself into both a painter and a carpenter boasted sound effects and dialogue every bit as amusing and fascinating as the images he was steadily capturing on film.
    “Who told Alex she could use pliers to get nails out of the walls?”
    “She didn’t ask, boss, or I would’ve—”
    “Never mind. Here, Alex, take this hammer. No! Don’t—It’s all right, Alex, I’m sure you didn’t break Willie’s toe. No, he’s always that color. Aren’t you, Willie?”

    “You said
green
for this room, Alex. What? That
is
green! Well, maybe not
green
green, but—All right, all right. Just get off the ladder, please.”
    “Here, Alex, wear these coveralls. Because I’m paying my men to
work
, not look at your legs, that’s why.”
    “Boss, we’d never—”
    “Shut up, Willie. You were looking harder than anybody. See, Alex, I told you he was always that color.”
    “Sam? Sam? Alex, what’d you do with Sam? Well, what’s he doing in the closet? Hiding from you? Nonsense. Sam, come out of there. Where’d you get the shiner? Oh. Well, it isn’t Alex’s fault you ran into her elbow; you shouldn’t have been in her way.”

    “Alex! Where’d you learn words like that? Wipe that grin off your face, Willie!”
    “The wallpaper isn’t upside down, Alex, I promise. I’m sure. I’m
positive
. Do the flowers in my garden do what? Oh. No, I guess they don’t grow upside down at that. Fix the wallpaper, Sam.”
    “Get off the ladder, Alex. Because my insurance doesn’t cover you, that’s why. Look, I don’t care if you did trapeze work in a circus—What? You did? Well … there’s no net. Get down from there.”
    By the end of the afternoon Noah had used several rolls of film. He had also come to a better understanding of the bewildered expressions two of Alex’s former clients had worn. Throughout the day he had watched her win the exasperated affection of a dozen working men, had heard her tiny voice swearing with the cheerful fluency of a sailor,and had seen her throw herself into the work with enthusiasm—never mind that she didn’t know what she was doing half the time.
    Any of these workmen, Noah thought in amusement, would have been happy to go out and slay dragons for her. But after a day in her company, each would have made certain she was locked in the castle before they sallied forth to do battle for her.
    Otherwise