HER BUILDING was a co-op in the Thirties, near the river. We watched it for a couple of days, seeing how it worked. The doorman handled both ends of the building. No problem. On Friday, the Prof rang the service bell at the rear. When the doorman left his post, Max and I stepped inside, past the sign that said "All Visitors Must Be Announced." I took the elevator to the sixteenth floor, Max took the stairs. He was there before I was. We walked up five more flights to the top floor. He stood off to the side as I knocked. I heard the peephole slide back. The door opened. "It is you," she said.
I didn't know the woman. Candy had been a slim, dark-haired child. Her body hadn't caught up to her hormones then. But I'd never forget her eyes: yellow, like a cat's, tipped at the corners, glowing under heavy dark lashes. This woman looked about thirty- ten years younger than she should have been. Her black hair was as short as a man's, soft and fine, framing her face. Barefoot, she stood as tall as my jaw. Her eyes were a bright, china-doll blue. The woman had an hourglass figure- the kind where the sand takes forever to get to the bottom but has plenty of room to spread out once it arrives. She was wearing a pair of ragged blue-jean shorts and one of those little T-shirts that stop around the diaphragm. Pale flesh covered her stomach, muscle rippled just below the skin when she spoke.
"It's me, for real."
I shook my head. "Who gave you my name?"
"Burke! It's me. You don't recognize me?"
I let my eyes travel over her. "Not a line."
She fluffed her hair, ran her hands quickly over her face, across her breasts, down past her hips, patted the front of her thighs. "It's all new."
"Some things you can't change," I told her, reaching behind me for the doorknob.
"You don't remember me at all," she said, sadness in her voice.
I closed one eye, watching her with the other. Tapped the closed lid. It was the only chance she'd get.
"Oh! Damn! I forgot. Wait a minute."
I didn't move. She put a hand on my arm. Nails cut short, no polish. "Please."
I watched her walk over to the window, tilt her head back, reach into her eyes. Pull something away from each one. "Come here, Burke. Just for a minute… okay?"
I went to the window, the carpet soft under my feet. The late afternoon sunlight came through the window. "Take a better look," she said, her voice soft.
The yellow cat's eyes watched me.
"Contact lenses." A little girl's whisper, giggling at soft conspiracies.
Candy.