“It was just one taste,” Yuri said.

“Just one?” Connie questioned. “You didn’t put the spoon in and out a bunch of times?”

“Just once,” Yuri said. “Open it up and look.”

Connie grumbled as she pushed the flaps open. The ice cream bulged from the container with a smooth, unblemished surface.

Yuri couldn’t think of any excuse to take the phone out of the room without raising Connie’s suspicions.

“I don’t see where you ate any,” Connie said.

“Because I took such a small amount,” Yuri said. “For crissake, forget it! Just enjoy it!”

“All right,” Connie said. “Leave me in peace.”

“Gladly,” Yuri said. “Just give a yell when you want me to come in here and take the container.”

Connie raised her unswollen eyebrow in disbelief, glared at Yuri suspiciously, then redirected her attention to her movie. “Maybe I’ll call you and maybe I won’t,” she said.

Yuri backed out of the room. He saw Connie absently take her first spoonful and swallow before he pulled the door partway closed. Retreating back to the sitting area he found that by positioning himself at the very end of the sofa, he could see into Connie’s room. It was only a narrow swath, but it included the foot of the bed and the tips of her toes.

Time dragged incredibly slowly for Yuri. He couldn’t be sure that Connie was eating the ice cream, although he would have been shocked if she didn’t once she’d started. The movie seemed to go on forever despite the numerous times the soundtrack seemed to come to a concluding crescendo. He was hoping that Connie would get up and go into the bathroom, giving him time to get the phone off her bedside table.

Finally, forty-five minutes later, Connie obliged him when the movie concluded.

Yuri moved quickly. He pushed open the door. The ice cream container was on the floor next to the bed with the spoon sticking out the top. Unfortunately, the door to the bathroom was not completely closed. A commercial was playing on the television. It was the only source of light in the room.

With his pulse racing, Yuri stepped over to the bedside table. From that angle he could see a portion of the bathroom but no Connie. He picked up the phone and pulled the connecting wire taut to lead him to the wall plug. The trail led behind the table laden with dirty dishes and glasses.

As Yuri slipped his hand down the wire, he nudged the table. Several of the glasses toppled off and shattered on the floor. The noise was louder than the high-volume commercial on the TV.