The Grand Finale by Janet Evanoich Page B

tip of her tongue, but she was being rendered senseless by his thumbs.
    “The curlers were faulty and the company will be responsible for damages, including cleanup,” Jake said. “I think we should gather up the clothes and linens and take them all back to my house to be washed. The rest of this you can leave to the professionals.”
    Berry squeezed her eyes shut and a tear popped out. “It makes me sad to see it like this.”
    “Me too,” Jake said.
    “I think I’d feel better if I cleaned it a little.”
    Jake held her a little tighter. “Me too.”
    “Really?”
    “No,” he said, “but I’ll do anything to prevent another tear from sliding down your cheek.” He turned and rummaged through the drawers by the sink. “Where are your big garbage bags?”
    “One drawer down.”
    He located the bags and tossed them to her. “Here you go. Stuff the clothes and linens in these. I’m going to get the rug up before it ruins the floor.”
    Berry filled the station wagon with the bagged laundry and looked up at her open windows. Jake was stuffing part of the waterlogged rug through one of them. “Bombs away,” he called, catapulting the rug onto the sidewalk below.
    “Jake?”
    He leaned out the window and grinned. His shirtsleeves were rolled to above the elbow, and a black smudge slanted across his cheek.
    “Thanks,” Berry called up to him.
    “Are you looking for a way to show gratitude?” he asked.
    Berry smiled in spite of herself. She had to admire his tenacity.
    An hour later Berry returned with Mrs. Fitz and Miss Gaspich. She unlocked the door to the Pizza Place and was relieved to see only a few water stains creeping down the walls.
    “Just as good as new,” Mrs. Fitz commented.
    Miss Gaspich set a bunch of wildflowers on the counter. “I picked these this morning in the woods behind Jake’s house. Don’t they look nice?”
    Berry smelled the flowers. “They look great.”
    Mrs. Fitz wrapped a snow-white apron around her middle. “We can handle this. You go on upstairs and help Jake with the apartment. Sounds like he’s having a party up there.”
    Berry looked at the ceiling. It did sound like a party upstairs. There was music blaring from a radio and the sound of at least a dozen feet scuffing around. She took the stairs two at a time and found her apartment filled with people. Mrs. Giovanni stood at the sink, up to her elbows in soapsuds. Several adult Lings were scrubbing walls and scouring floors. Ling children ran from bedroom to living room ina game of tag. A tall, rawboned man turned from a sparkling-clean front window. He held a bottle of glass cleaner and looked pleased. “They’re pretty clean, now. Now you can see Mama Giovanni’s geraniums when they bloom, and down the street my Caribe Restaurant.”
    Berry caught Jake by the arm as he hauled a load of trash to the stairs. “What are all these people doing here?”
    “They just showed up, one by one. You were right. This is a nice neighborhood.”
    “They came to help me?”
    “Mrs. Ling said you were the reason her daughter won her class spelling bee last month. Said you tutored her free for weeks before the contest. Mrs. Giovanni tells me you drove her to the hospital every day for almost a month this winter when her husband had a heart attack.”
    “The tall man cleaning the windows,” she whispered. “I’ve never met him.”
    “Apparently you’ve befriended his wife.”
    Berry looked confused.
    “Anne Marie.”
    Berry’s eyes opened wide. “Anne Marie?” She burst out laughing. “Anne Marie is a six-foot-tall platinum blond who only speaks French. She gets lonely when her husband is at work, so she visits me. I speak English and make pizzas, and she sits on the stool, knitting and speaking French. Neither of us can understand anything the other says.”
    Jake shook his head. “How can you find time to do all these things, run a business, and go to school?”
    “I’ve eliminated sleeping and only eat once