It's mostly her that does the ear-bending. Always wants to know when I'm going to get married and give her grandchildren.
And your dad?
We get along. He smiled, but with a hint of sadness. When I was a kid, we were real tight. Horsed around, went to the Hurricanes games. We took the boat down toward Elliot Key nearly every weekend. Came back with our limit every time, it seemed. He paused. After I got out of school, though, it was more formal - you know, brisk handshake and how's the business going, son?' That sort of thing. But we're always there for each other.
Jack thought of that picture he'd seen on his father's bookshelf the night of the Fernandez execution. Deep-sea fishing. Just the two of them.
Waiter, he called out. Two more over here, please.
Driving back from South Beach at 1:45 that Saturday morning, Cindy leaned over, turned off the A. C. in Gina's car, and opened her window to let in some warmer air.
Why'd you do that? Gina said petulantly.
Because it's getting cold in here.
I like the cold air. It keeps me awake - especially after I've had a few drinks. Besides, these pants I'm wearing are hot.
Cindy looked over at her girlfriend. Oh, they were hot all right, but not in a thermal sense. The clingy black spandex molded Gina's body perfectly - a body that could get her anything from dinner at world-class restaurants to full service at self-service gas stations. She was gorgeous, and she worked at it, still striving at age twenty-four for the fresh look that had earned her a thousand dollars a week as a sixteen-year-old model.
They'd first met six years ago in college, two eighteen-year-old opposites who were thrown together by the administrative fiat of dorm-room assignments. Cindy was the more serious student; Gina, the more serious partyer. For the better part of a semester they simply put up with each other. Then late one Saturday night Gina came back to their room in tears. It took until dawn, but Cindy finally convinced her that no college professor, no matter how good a lover, was worth a fifth of bourbon and a bottle of sleeping pills. Cindy was the only person who ever learned that a man had pushed Gina Terisi to the edge. A friendship grew out of that night's conversation, and over the years Cindy had witnessed the slaughter of countless innocent men who came along later and paid for the sins of Gina's first and only true love. Cindy knew that the predatory Gina wasn't the real Gina; but it was hard convincing others who hadn't seen her at her most vulnerable.
Have you ever driven a car with your eyes closed? Gina asked.
Can't say I have, said Cindy as she fiddled with the buttons on the car radio trying to find something she liked.
I have. Sometimes when I see there's a car coming at me, I get this feeling that I want to hold the wheel steady, close my eyes, and wait for that whooooooosh sound as the car whizzes by.
Cindy rolled her eyes. Just drive, Gina.
Gina made a face. You're in one hell of a mood.
Sorry. I guess I don't feel like I should be out partying tonight. I'm having second thoughts about telling Jack I want to break up.
We've been over this a hundred times, Cindy - you're getting out of that relationship.
Cindy blinked. It's just that we were so close. We were even talking about making it permanent.
Which means that I rescued you without a moment to spare. Believe me, it's no accident that the word married rhymes with buried, she said, mashing the pronunciation. Life's no dress rehearsal, okay? Find some excitement without standing on the side-lines and living your life through me. You've got a great opportunity right in front of you. It's not every twenty-five-year-old photographer who gets hired by the Italian Consulate to go traveling around Italy taking pictures for a trade brochure. Jump on it. If you don't - if you stay behind because you think you're gonna lose Jack - you'll end up hating him for it someday.
Maybe, Cindy said. But that doesn't mean I have to dump
And your dad?
We get along. He smiled, but with a hint of sadness. When I was a kid, we were real tight. Horsed around, went to the Hurricanes games. We took the boat down toward Elliot Key nearly every weekend. Came back with our limit every time, it seemed. He paused. After I got out of school, though, it was more formal - you know, brisk handshake and how's the business going, son?' That sort of thing. But we're always there for each other.
Jack thought of that picture he'd seen on his father's bookshelf the night of the Fernandez execution. Deep-sea fishing. Just the two of them.
Waiter, he called out. Two more over here, please.
Driving back from South Beach at 1:45 that Saturday morning, Cindy leaned over, turned off the A. C. in Gina's car, and opened her window to let in some warmer air.
Why'd you do that? Gina said petulantly.
Because it's getting cold in here.
I like the cold air. It keeps me awake - especially after I've had a few drinks. Besides, these pants I'm wearing are hot.
Cindy looked over at her girlfriend. Oh, they were hot all right, but not in a thermal sense. The clingy black spandex molded Gina's body perfectly - a body that could get her anything from dinner at world-class restaurants to full service at self-service gas stations. She was gorgeous, and she worked at it, still striving at age twenty-four for the fresh look that had earned her a thousand dollars a week as a sixteen-year-old model.
They'd first met six years ago in college, two eighteen-year-old opposites who were thrown together by the administrative fiat of dorm-room assignments. Cindy was the more serious student; Gina, the more serious partyer. For the better part of a semester they simply put up with each other. Then late one Saturday night Gina came back to their room in tears. It took until dawn, but Cindy finally convinced her that no college professor, no matter how good a lover, was worth a fifth of bourbon and a bottle of sleeping pills. Cindy was the only person who ever learned that a man had pushed Gina Terisi to the edge. A friendship grew out of that night's conversation, and over the years Cindy had witnessed the slaughter of countless innocent men who came along later and paid for the sins of Gina's first and only true love. Cindy knew that the predatory Gina wasn't the real Gina; but it was hard convincing others who hadn't seen her at her most vulnerable.
Have you ever driven a car with your eyes closed? Gina asked.
Can't say I have, said Cindy as she fiddled with the buttons on the car radio trying to find something she liked.
I have. Sometimes when I see there's a car coming at me, I get this feeling that I want to hold the wheel steady, close my eyes, and wait for that whooooooosh sound as the car whizzes by.
Cindy rolled her eyes. Just drive, Gina.
Gina made a face. You're in one hell of a mood.
Sorry. I guess I don't feel like I should be out partying tonight. I'm having second thoughts about telling Jack I want to break up.
We've been over this a hundred times, Cindy - you're getting out of that relationship.
Cindy blinked. It's just that we were so close. We were even talking about making it permanent.
Which means that I rescued you without a moment to spare. Believe me, it's no accident that the word married rhymes with buried, she said, mashing the pronunciation. Life's no dress rehearsal, okay? Find some excitement without standing on the side-lines and living your life through me. You've got a great opportunity right in front of you. It's not every twenty-five-year-old photographer who gets hired by the Italian Consulate to go traveling around Italy taking pictures for a trade brochure. Jump on it. If you don't - if you stay behind because you think you're gonna lose Jack - you'll end up hating him for it someday.
Maybe, Cindy said. But that doesn't mean I have to dump
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