She closes her eyes, shivers.
I leave my mangled hand limp, let her manipulate it. She moves it faster, finds a rhythm that’s familiar to me. In another minute her body shudders. She gasps. Her orgasm sounds like a
surprise – the noise a woman makes when she’s been told someone has died.
After she comes, she closes her eyes. She keeps my half-pinky inside her. Another minute, and I climb on top of her, slide inside. We fuck slowly. She keeps her eyes shut.
Outside, the rain falls. A crack of thunder rolls off the ocean.
I pump faster, keeping rhythm with the rain tapping the window. Libby is barely moving, I realize, too late. Probably wants me to come already, and climb off.
I do. I give a little grunt, let her know I’m done.
I stay on top of her for a moment, because it’s unseemly to dismount too fast, like a gymnast from a pommel horse. After a ten-count, I roll off. Libby is staring up at the teak ceiling
fan, which is rotating slowly, squeaking.
‘I missed you, Libby,’ I say.
‘Now you have me,’ she says.
I cannot tell if these words are plain and sweet, or if there is bitterness underneath. I kiss her lips, roll off the bed, and pad to the bathroom.
When I return, she’s under the covers, with her back to me. Outside the rain has slowed. Thunder sounds – muffled, distant. The storm is leaving.
I look at Libby’s shape under the covers. It’s moving strangely, shaking.
‘Libby?’ I say. ‘Are you crying?’
‘No.’
But she is. I walk to the foot of the bed. I reach down, touch her calf through the sheet. She turns with a start. Her eyes are tear-streaked.
‘What’s wrong, baby?’ I say.
She shakes her head. ‘Nothing. I’m sorry.’
‘Tell me.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ she says again.
‘You’re not happy we came here.’
‘I am happy,’ she says dully. She sniffles.
‘I’ll make it worth your while,’ I say, but immediately regret it. It sounds like something you say to a whore. I try again. ‘What I mean to say is... ’ I take a
breath. What
do
I mean to say? ‘Libby, this is a big deal for me. This is my chance.’
‘I know it is.’
‘It’s not easy for you. I understand that. I’m grateful you came with me. I’m grateful you’re still here, after everything that I’ve... ’ I stop.
‘Everything that happened.’
She says: ‘I love you, Jimmy.’
Those are the right words. I’m glad she says them. But there is something odd about her tone. Her words don’t sound like love at all; they sound like lines from a script that she is
being forced to read.
My cellphone rings.
I’m relieved by the jarring sound. It gives me a chance to leave her, a chance to walk away without speaking any more, without hurting her, without being forced to remember the things that
I’ve done.
CHAPTER 5
I retrieve my cellphone from my pants, which are crumpled in a ball on the floor. I answer on the third ring. I leave the room, pressing the phone to my ear.
‘This is Jim,’ I say.
‘How’s it going, hotshot?’
It’s Tad Billups. He’s my oldest friend. Probably my
only
friend, come to think of it. The rest gave up on me. Somehow, preposterously, Tad not only stuck with me; he also
gave me this job at Tao. Which makes him more than my friend. He’s also my boss.
With the phone under my chin, I pull the door closed behind me, so that I don’t disturb Libby. I walk down the hall. ‘How’s it
going
?’ I repeat.
‘It’s going to hell, Tad. It’s a crappy company, with crappy people, and a crappy product that no one wants to buy. And it’s burning a million dollars a month. And
there’s only seven weeks of cash left.’
‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘I probably should have mentioned all that, before offering you the job. Any good restaurants down there?’
‘Restaurants? How would I know?’ I pad down the stairs. ‘Remind me again. How did you convince me to come here?’
‘I didn’t convince
you
. You convinced
me
. You begged. You were
I leave my mangled hand limp, let her manipulate it. She moves it faster, finds a rhythm that’s familiar to me. In another minute her body shudders. She gasps. Her orgasm sounds like a
surprise – the noise a woman makes when she’s been told someone has died.
After she comes, she closes her eyes. She keeps my half-pinky inside her. Another minute, and I climb on top of her, slide inside. We fuck slowly. She keeps her eyes shut.
Outside, the rain falls. A crack of thunder rolls off the ocean.
I pump faster, keeping rhythm with the rain tapping the window. Libby is barely moving, I realize, too late. Probably wants me to come already, and climb off.
I do. I give a little grunt, let her know I’m done.
I stay on top of her for a moment, because it’s unseemly to dismount too fast, like a gymnast from a pommel horse. After a ten-count, I roll off. Libby is staring up at the teak ceiling
fan, which is rotating slowly, squeaking.
‘I missed you, Libby,’ I say.
‘Now you have me,’ she says.
I cannot tell if these words are plain and sweet, or if there is bitterness underneath. I kiss her lips, roll off the bed, and pad to the bathroom.
When I return, she’s under the covers, with her back to me. Outside the rain has slowed. Thunder sounds – muffled, distant. The storm is leaving.
I look at Libby’s shape under the covers. It’s moving strangely, shaking.
‘Libby?’ I say. ‘Are you crying?’
‘No.’
But she is. I walk to the foot of the bed. I reach down, touch her calf through the sheet. She turns with a start. Her eyes are tear-streaked.
‘What’s wrong, baby?’ I say.
She shakes her head. ‘Nothing. I’m sorry.’
‘Tell me.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ she says again.
‘You’re not happy we came here.’
‘I am happy,’ she says dully. She sniffles.
‘I’ll make it worth your while,’ I say, but immediately regret it. It sounds like something you say to a whore. I try again. ‘What I mean to say is... ’ I take a
breath. What
do
I mean to say? ‘Libby, this is a big deal for me. This is my chance.’
‘I know it is.’
‘It’s not easy for you. I understand that. I’m grateful you came with me. I’m grateful you’re still here, after everything that I’ve... ’ I stop.
‘Everything that happened.’
She says: ‘I love you, Jimmy.’
Those are the right words. I’m glad she says them. But there is something odd about her tone. Her words don’t sound like love at all; they sound like lines from a script that she is
being forced to read.
My cellphone rings.
I’m relieved by the jarring sound. It gives me a chance to leave her, a chance to walk away without speaking any more, without hurting her, without being forced to remember the things that
I’ve done.
CHAPTER 5
I retrieve my cellphone from my pants, which are crumpled in a ball on the floor. I answer on the third ring. I leave the room, pressing the phone to my ear.
‘This is Jim,’ I say.
‘How’s it going, hotshot?’
It’s Tad Billups. He’s my oldest friend. Probably my
only
friend, come to think of it. The rest gave up on me. Somehow, preposterously, Tad not only stuck with me; he also
gave me this job at Tao. Which makes him more than my friend. He’s also my boss.
With the phone under my chin, I pull the door closed behind me, so that I don’t disturb Libby. I walk down the hall. ‘How’s it
going
?’ I repeat.
‘It’s going to hell, Tad. It’s a crappy company, with crappy people, and a crappy product that no one wants to buy. And it’s burning a million dollars a month. And
there’s only seven weeks of cash left.’
‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘I probably should have mentioned all that, before offering you the job. Any good restaurants down there?’
‘Restaurants? How would I know?’ I pad down the stairs. ‘Remind me again. How did you convince me to come here?’
‘I didn’t convince
you
. You convinced
me
. You begged. You were
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