I don't own the characters and make no monetary profit from this story. Peter Gunn and Edie Hart own each other. My profit consists of the fun I have with them.

A Lifetime in Eight Days

Chapter 21: Tampons and Toothpaste

Pete's Plymouth Fury drove like a dream Frank Gunn discovered, deciding his son had a good eye not only for women but for automobiles. He found his way to Pete's apartment with no problem, retracing the route Emmett took when the young man drove him there several days ago. Just a few minutes after leaving the hospital he pulled the car into the same parking space the piano player had used, carefully locked the doors and made his way into the building and up to Pete's place. As he entered the apartment he had to admit to himself that it would feel good to have a real shower and fall asleep in a real bed.

He had been told by Edie as she accompanied him to the elevator that there was food in the refrigerator, fresh sheets were on the bed and his suitcases had been moved upstairs. She had also mentioned Lieutenant Jacoby's plan to visit with Pete during the afternoon. She'd been diffident about it, not coming right out and expressing any concerns that the visit might entail more than Jacoby had let on. Frank had considered staying but decided he didn't want to be an overbearing parent to his thirty-three year old son. Pete had been on his own since graduating high school, enlisting in the Army while still several months shy of his eighteenth birthday and being thrown headfirst into the conflict in the Pacific. He knew how to take care of himself. Pete wasn't his little boy anymore. He was a grown man living in an adult world. And he had an adult woman by his side to help him through difficult situations. Frank knew all of this in his heart. But he still told Edie to call him if she had concerns that things might get out of hand.

Turning the entryway light on Frank looked around. He hadn't taken much notice of the apartment the other day, hurrying instead to get a quick shower, put on fresh clothes and grab a few of his son's things before accompanying Emmett back to the hospital. It had a fresh open look and was very nicely decorated. But it seemed far too uncluttered to him. Pete was an habitually neat and tidy person, there would be no doubt about that in the mind of anyone who knew him to any extent, but the place seemed far too neat even for him. Then he remembered something Mother had mentioned on the way in from the airport the day he arrived in town, somewhere between lambasting him for the manner in which he'd treated Edie on the telephone and threatening him to within an inch of his life if he tried to rake her over the coals for not contacting him. Edie had stayed here at the apartment all the while Pete was missing and had spent an inordinate amount of time cleaning and organizing and rearranging. To keep herself busy Mother had said. To keep her mind occupied, to keep from dwelling on things and events and circumstances. Frank shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. He could only imagine what she had been going through.

Then he tried not to imagine. Instead he climbed the stairs to the bedroom and lifted his suitcases onto the double bed. The large one was filled with clothing and necessities he had grabbed and tossed in as he scrambled to get things together before heading to the airport. The smaller suitcase was one that had already been packed for the next time he had occasion to visit his son. It was filled with items of sentimental value, things that he wanted Pete to have, as well as things that belonged to Pete but were still at home. His home. It was time they found their rightful place.

Frank opened the smaller suitcase and pulled out several large shoe boxes, lids held in place with brown tape, and set them on the floor next to the dresser. He placed a couple smaller boxes and a cloth bag on top of the dresser then shut the suitcase and shoved it into the walk-in closet. Removing the clothing from the second suitcase, he placed his shirts and pants, underwear and socks on a shelf in the closet, carefully moving aside what was already there. It was as good a place as any to keep his things for the time being until Pete was released from the hospital.

Turning around he raised his eyebrows at the clothes hanging on the rack. How on earth could one man accumulate so many suits? He didn't try counting but he did recognize several as Don Richards suits. A few others looked very expensive and appeared to be personally tailored locally. There were Brooks Brothers shirts, all white and pressed, and ties by the dozen. At the back end of the rack were casual pants and shirts. Frank thought back to himself at Pete's age. He'd owned two suits, one work gray and the other funeral black. He hadn't been a clotheshorse, could not have afforded to be one. His son, on the other hand, certainly was and apparently could. Frank smiled and shook his head fondly. As he stepped out of the closet his glance fell on several dresses hanging at the front of the rack. Dressy dresses. A blue skirt and a white blouse and a ladies slip were nestled between the dresses and Pete's suits. A nightgown hung from a hook on the inside of the door. Frank clicked the closet door shut, grabbed a pair of pajamas he'd left on the bed and headed for the shower.

Dr. Carson gave his patient a good-natured smile and shook his head for a second time. Just because he'd been able to get out of bed, walk as far as the bathroom with the help of a nurse and take a shower with help from his girl didn't mean Peter Gunn was ready to go home. Not right this minute anyway. Besides, Carson wasn't planning on signing release papers for anyone on what was technically his day off. If things went well he'd consider releasing Pete sometime tomorrow morning. Another twenty-four hours should tell the story of whether he would be able to function satisfactorily outside of a hospital setting. But he wasn't about to tell the man that. It would most likely just make him antsy and he was already starting to get restless and fidgety. He would stop back by later this evening and have a talk with Miss Hart and with the elder Gunn to touch base as there would be several caveats related to his patient's possible discharge.

Both men looked up as Edie Hart came through the door after accompanying Pop to the elevator, making certain he went to Pete's apartment to get some sleep in much the same way as he had made her go home the previous evening. The blonde had one of those big smiles on her face, the one that said she was as happy as life would allow and nothing anyone could do or say would make her feel otherwise, which made Pete smile and want to jump up from his wheelchair and grab her and kiss her senseless. The smile remained on his face as Mother followed Edie into the room, Dr. Carson sneaking out at the same time after a smile and a nod for his patient. Pete pushed himself to a standing position slowly and carefully, Edie hovering close to his side, so he could wrap his arms around Mother as she gently grabbed him and held onto him.

"Hello, you rascal," the old woman said into his ear, tears quite evident in her voice. She patted his back and sniffled and as soon as she released him grabbed for the hankie in the big pocket of her dress to blow her nose.

Pete felt the stabbing prick of tears behind his own eyes. Mother wasn't the crying type, not on the outside anyway. In all the years he had known her he'd seen a tear slip down her weathered cheek twice, maybe three times. All those times following the deaths of long-time friends. For her to cry on his behalf...

Pete's eyes slid sideways to meet Edie's stare, her blue gaze encouraging as she read his slowly growing realization. He had been told he'd been in bad shape physically when he was admitted to the hospital. He'd asked questions about his condition and Dr. Carson had answered them. As had Edie, because she'd never lie to him or try to hide the truth from him. If he asked her something she gave him a direct answer, whether she wanted to or not. But seeing the tears on Mother's face suddenly had his mind grappling with the knowledge that things must have been much worse than be had thus far been able to comprehend. Something else he would have to blame on that fuzziness in his brain.

His attention was diverted by the warm feeling of Mother's hand under his chin and her gruff voice telling him how much better he looked than the last time she had been in to see him. He looked almost human she said. Pete smiled and admitted she could thank Edie and the doctor and nurses for that, he had nothing to do with it. When the woman pshawed him and patted his cheek he just grinned. He reached back for the arm of the wheelchair and sat down with the aid of Edie's hand guiding him. She pulled a chair close for Mother and one for herself right next to Pete.

"She shaved my face," he told Mother with a wink, running his fingers along his smooth cheek, deftly avoiding a few cuts that remained tender.

"Did a real good job too," Mother nodded, leaning forward and inspecting him closely. "If she ever loses her singing voice she'll have a career she can fall back on. I can just see the sign." The woman spread her hand out in a sweeping gesture. "Edie's Tonsorial. In big bright neon letters, cursive style, not like my old sign. She'd have the fellas lined up around the block." She smiled smugly at the frown that brought to Pete's face.

"Very funny." Edie's tone was sarcastic but she was smiling.

Mother chatted on and on, handing out gossip about Barney and waitress Wendy Iverson as well as Emmett and the new girl he was dating. "We'll see how long this one lasts," she quipped. Emmett needed to find himself a nice girl who'd stick around, not like these flighty ones he always seemed to be going around with. He needed to find a girl like Pete, she said, drawing raised eyebrows from the other two. "You know what I mean! Someone not in the business. Someone who'll help him broaden his interests, give more meaning to his life, get him away from that piano every once in a while." Mother gave a knowing smile when she saw Pete's hand creep across to Edie's where it rested in her lap but she didn't seem to notice when the PI lost interest about halfway through her discourse. His gaze became restless and wandered to the cards on the wall next to the bureau and then to the stack of envelopes that had been brought in earlier by one of the nurses and finally to the people bustling past the open door. He began to fidget and Edie turned her head to look at him when his hold on her hand tightened to the point that it became almost painful.

"Pete?" When she didn't get his attention the first time Edie said his name again, flexing her fingers where they were laced between his to try to get him to release his hold on her hand. His eyes met hers and he stared at her blankly.

"What?" A little frown shadowed his gaze and his fingers tightened further.

"Pete, you're hurting my hand." She spoke gently and wiggled her fingers. His gaze dropped to their clasped hands and he abruptly released hers upon realizing how tightly he was holding it. Pete rubbed his hand slowly along his leg, drying his perspiring palm on his pajama pants.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Is your headache back?"

"It really doesn't go away," the man shrugged. "Sometimes its just not as bad as others."

"Is there anything I can do?" Edie shifted a little in her chair to face him better, lifting her hand to the back of his neck and massaging the tense muscles she found there with gentle fingers. His chin found her shoulder and his forehead rubbed against the silkiness of her hair.

"You're here, that's enough." His eyes opened and followed Mother as she quietly got up from her chair and began taking the get well cards down from the wall, shuffling them together and placing them on the table with the others after giving the two of them a few minutes to themselves.

"I'll bet you haven't had a chance to look at all those," the woman gruffly said, lifting her big purse from the floor and hitching it over her broad shoulder in readiness to leave. "I need to skedaddle. I have some shopping to do and I want to stop by Gussie Warnecke's place before I head back to the club. I expect to see you back there real soon," she told Pete with a wink and an affectionate chuck under the chin.

Edie stood up, telling Mother she'd walk her to the elevator, and both women eyed Pete as he pushed to his feet and said the same thing. Knowing it would do no good to argue with him Edie curved a hand around his elbow and walked along beside him slowly up the hallway to the elevator. They watched the doors close behind Mother before making a left turn, Pete tugging Edie along to walk a circuit of the floor. As they turned the final corner and got close to the desk Edie looked up to find the eyes of a half dozen nurses watching their progress. Mrs. Henry leaned her arms on the counter, her eyes twinkling. The dark haired PI had his arm slung over the young woman's shoulders and was moving at a slightly slower pace than when he had started out, his slippers dragging a little on the hard linoleum floor, but he had a smile on his face as he listened to something the pretty blonde was saying. Some of the bruises around his eyes were beginning to turn lighter shades of blue and gray and the cuts and abrasions were healing.

"You don't look half bad underneath all that scruff you had on your face," Mrs. Henry smiled indulgently, coming close to batting her eyelashes at the detective. "I forgot to mention that earlier when you were trying to hide behind Miss Hart," she teased.

With a smile of her own and a roll of her eyes Edie directed Pete toward the door of his room, giving a little backward flip of her hand when the middle-aged nurse said lunch was on its way up. A giggle from one of the other nurses followed the two of them into Pete's room. Edie shook her head, wondering not for the first time how her fella always managed to set the hearts of women aflutter without knowing or trying. Then she looked at him and didn't have to wonder. She knew. Her own heart had been aflutter since the moment she first laid eyes on the man. Pete wondered at her broad smile as she helped him settle into his wheelchair before grabbing the pile of get well cards and pulling her own chair closer to his. A giggle! Her eyes narrowed. It better not be that little redhead.

What in Sam Hill was a tampon? Frank Gunn held the small pink box closer and took a curious look at it. The cardboard was embellished with the picture of a pretty woman wearing a long flowing evening gown and the brand name Modess was printed in several places. In the lower right corner of the front of the box the contents were identified as Modess Tampons. Obviously one of those womanly items he wouldn't be acquainted with having been a widower for over fifteen years. Things certainly changed over time he idly thought as he opened the box and peered inside. Hmm. Suppositories? No, that couldn't be it. He pulled at a little folded sheet of paper and deftly removed it from the box. As he unfolded it he wished he had thought to bring his reading glasses upstairs with him instead of leaving them down on that little table along with Pete's keys. Glasses or not, Frank quickly scanned what turned out to be an instruction pamphlet. It might take a little time and patience... easy to insert... fully relaxed... slide gently into the – What?! A small illustration caught his eye. Oh my goodness! He quickly stuck the paper back inside the box and shoved it into the cabinet where he had found it, right next to to another box proclaiming to be Kotex, catching a glance of his own embarrassed face in the mirror as he did so. Frank took a deep breath and loudly released it.

Toothpaste. All he wanted was toothpaste. Why oh why had he forgotten to throw a tube into his travel case? So far he had found everything he wasn't looking for. Deodorant, cologne, Listerine mouthwash, soap, a tube of Prell shampoo, Kleenex, dental floss. He sighed in exasperation. You'd think the toothpaste would be with the mouthwash and the floss. But no. Or next to the glass with the two toothbrushes in it. Again, no. Because that would be just too easy wouldn't it? Maybe the medicine cabinet? He pulled open the door and peered inside. A tube of hand lotion, cough medicine, Vicks, eye drops, several straight razors, Vaseline, nail polish, Blue Star ointment, a small tin he thought might be aspirin but turned out to be Trojans... He returned it to the shelf. A prescription bottle with Edie Hart's name on the label. Frank squeezed his eyes tightly shut. He wasn't going to look. It wasn't his business. He wasn't that nosy was he? Especially not after those other things he'd found because he'd just had to investigate. He couldn't help himself. He knew that. Inordinate curiosity was one of his biggest failings and often tended to get him into trouble. Just like his boy. Pete most certainly had inherited that trait from him. He opened his eyes and picked up the little bottle and looked at it. An antibiotic for an inner ear infection to be taken twice a day for seven days. He sighed in relief and didn't know why. The bottle was empty and the prescription had been filled on June 29th. He set it back on the shelf in the medicine cabinet and closed the door. On the counter near the sink was a bottle of aftershave and a Sunbeam electric shaver. Still no toothpaste.

He frowned as his thoughts returned unbidden to the prescription bottle. If she'd been taking the antibiotic twice a day for seven days what was the empty bottle doing in Pete's medicine cabinet? It was one of those pills that was taken with food. She would have been taking it at breakfast and- Stop! Don't go there, Frank told himself. Not your business. Good grief! It wasn't as if he was unaware that the relationship between his son and the pretty blonde was intimate in nature. They were sleeping together. They were having sex. There! He could say it to himself without flinching. He just didn't want to know about it. Not this close up anyway. When he was at his own home a thousand miles away he wasn't reminded of it, didn't think about it, wasn't concerned about it because it didn't stare him in the face at every turn. But here it was obvious. Like at the hospital this morning when she had helped Pete shower. And it wasn't as if he was a prude either. He just hadn't been brought up that way. Good boys and good girls waited until they were married. Of course that was easy enough if you got married at an early age like he had.

But Pete was thirty-three and Edie had turned twenty-nine in May... and he really needed to talk to his boy about his intentions toward this girl and when he planned to make an honest woman out of her... and whether they were being as careful as they could be because he didn't want to become a grandpa before he was a father-in-law... and were the problems Pete had told them they were having over with or would they come back to haunt them in the future... and was that the telephone ringing...? Frank attempted to put a stop to his mental rambling as he grabbed at the phone on the bedside table.

It was Edie. Should he apologize for finding her tampons? Frank rolled his eyes in disgust at himself. He could really be a goofus sometimes. She was talking again so he decided he'd better listen.

"Did I wake you up?" He thought he could detect a thread of worry in her voice.

"No, no, I was just-" He cleared his throat. "I just took a shower and put my pajamas on and and was looking-"

"Lieutenant Jacoby is here. He's in visiting with Pete."

"By himself?" Frank ran a hand through his hair.

"No. Dr. Carson is in the room with them. I came out to the nurses station to call you." A low hum filled the line for a few seconds. "I'm worried about Pete. He was doing really well until the Lieutenant showed up. We looked through his get well cards and after lunch we tried playing some rummy. But when Lieutenant Jacoby came in it was like Pete just closed up. He stopped smiling and stopped talking and just seemed to- to- crawl into himself. I don't know how to explain it and I don't know what to do."

"I'm on my way." Frank picked up the telephone and carried it with him as he headed for the closet to grab fresh clothes.

"I didn't want to bother you but I'm afraid the Lieutenant might say something-"

"I'm on my way," the elder Gunn repeated. "Calling me was the right thing to do. I'll be there in just a few minutes." He tossed socks and underwear onto the bed and began to unbutton his pajama shirt. "Oh. And Edie?"

"Yes?"

"Where's the toothpaste?"