one thing I should never have lied about. And the fact that the lie was one of omission, rather than commission, and that lying was more or less a way of life with me, would not lift me off the hook a fraction of an inch. Not with Manuela Aloe. She would regard my lie as inexcusable, as, of course, it was.
In saying that I was unmarried on my PXA loan application, I hadn't meant to harm anyone. (I have never meant to harm anyone with what I did and didn't do.) It was just a way of avoiding troublesome questions re the status of my marriage: were my wife and I living together; and if not, why not, and so on.
But I knew that Manny depended on that application for her information about me. And I could have and should have set her straight. For I knew-must have known-that I was not being treated with such extravagant generosity to buy Manny a passing relationship. She wanted a husband. One with good looks, good breeding and a good name-the kind not easily found in her world or any world. Then she had found me, and oh-so-clearly demonstrated the advantages of marriage to her, and I, tacitly, had agreed to the marriage. She had been completely honest with me, and I had been just as completely dishonest with her. And, now, by God-!
Now…?
But a man can be afraid just so much. (I say that as an expert on being afraid.) When he reaches that limit, he can fear no more. And so, at last, my pajamas wet with cold sweat, I returned to bed and fell into restless sleep.
In the morning, Mrs. Olmstead brought me toast and coffee and asked suspiciously if I had mailed a letter she had given me yesterday. I said that I had, for she was always giving me letters to mail, and I always remembered to mail. Or almost always. She nagged me, with increasing vehemence, about the imminent peril of rats. And I swore I would do something about them, too; and mumbling and grumbling, she at last left me alone.
I lay back down and closed my eyes… and Manny came into my room , a deceptive smile on her lovely face. For naturally, although she had learned that I was married, she showed no sign of displeasure.
"But it's all right, darling, and I understand perfectly. You needed the money and you were dying to sleep with me. And-here, have a drink of this nice coffee I fixed for you."
"No! It's poisoned, and-yahh!"
"Oh, I'm so sorry, dear! I wouldn't have spilled it on you for the world. Let me just wipe it off-"
"Yeeow! You're scratching my eyes out! Get away, go away…"
My eyes snapped open.
I sat up with a start.
Mrs. Olmstead was bent over me. "My goodness, goodness me!" she exclaimed. "What's the matter, Mr. Rainstar?"
"Nothing; must've been having a nightmare," I said sheepishly. "Was I making a lot of racket?"
"Were you ever! Sounded like you was scared to death." Shaking her head grumpily, she turned toward the door. "Oh, yeah, your girlfriend wants you."
"What?" I said.
"Reckon she's your girlfriend, the way you're always pawing at each other."
"But-you mean, Miss Aloe?" I stammered. "She's here?"
"Course, she's not here. Don't see her, do you?" She gestured exasperatedly. "Answer the phone, a-fore she hangs up!"
I threw on a robe, and ran downstairs.
I grabbed up the phone, and said hello.
"Boo, you pretty man!" Manny laughed teasingly. "What's the matter with you anyway?"
"Matter?" I said. "Uh, what makes you think anything's the matter?"
"I thought you sounded gruff and strained. But never mind. I want to see you. Be at our place in about an hour, okay?"
I swallowed heavily. Had she decided that something was wrong? That I was hiding something?
"Britt…?"
"Why?" I said. "What did you want to see me about?"
"What?" I could almost see her frown. "What did I want to see you about? "
I apologized hastily. I said I'd just gone to sleep after tossing and turning all night, and I seemed to be coming down with the flu. "I'd love to see you, Manny, child, but I think it would be bad for you. The way I'm feeling, the farther you
In saying that I was unmarried on my PXA loan application, I hadn't meant to harm anyone. (I have never meant to harm anyone with what I did and didn't do.) It was just a way of avoiding troublesome questions re the status of my marriage: were my wife and I living together; and if not, why not, and so on.
But I knew that Manny depended on that application for her information about me. And I could have and should have set her straight. For I knew-must have known-that I was not being treated with such extravagant generosity to buy Manny a passing relationship. She wanted a husband. One with good looks, good breeding and a good name-the kind not easily found in her world or any world. Then she had found me, and oh-so-clearly demonstrated the advantages of marriage to her, and I, tacitly, had agreed to the marriage. She had been completely honest with me, and I had been just as completely dishonest with her. And, now, by God-!
Now…?
But a man can be afraid just so much. (I say that as an expert on being afraid.) When he reaches that limit, he can fear no more. And so, at last, my pajamas wet with cold sweat, I returned to bed and fell into restless sleep.
In the morning, Mrs. Olmstead brought me toast and coffee and asked suspiciously if I had mailed a letter she had given me yesterday. I said that I had, for she was always giving me letters to mail, and I always remembered to mail. Or almost always. She nagged me, with increasing vehemence, about the imminent peril of rats. And I swore I would do something about them, too; and mumbling and grumbling, she at last left me alone.
I lay back down and closed my eyes… and Manny came into my room , a deceptive smile on her lovely face. For naturally, although she had learned that I was married, she showed no sign of displeasure.
"But it's all right, darling, and I understand perfectly. You needed the money and you were dying to sleep with me. And-here, have a drink of this nice coffee I fixed for you."
"No! It's poisoned, and-yahh!"
"Oh, I'm so sorry, dear! I wouldn't have spilled it on you for the world. Let me just wipe it off-"
"Yeeow! You're scratching my eyes out! Get away, go away…"
My eyes snapped open.
I sat up with a start.
Mrs. Olmstead was bent over me. "My goodness, goodness me!" she exclaimed. "What's the matter, Mr. Rainstar?"
"Nothing; must've been having a nightmare," I said sheepishly. "Was I making a lot of racket?"
"Were you ever! Sounded like you was scared to death." Shaking her head grumpily, she turned toward the door. "Oh, yeah, your girlfriend wants you."
"What?" I said.
"Reckon she's your girlfriend, the way you're always pawing at each other."
"But-you mean, Miss Aloe?" I stammered. "She's here?"
"Course, she's not here. Don't see her, do you?" She gestured exasperatedly. "Answer the phone, a-fore she hangs up!"
I threw on a robe, and ran downstairs.
I grabbed up the phone, and said hello.
"Boo, you pretty man!" Manny laughed teasingly. "What's the matter with you anyway?"
"Matter?" I said. "Uh, what makes you think anything's the matter?"
"I thought you sounded gruff and strained. But never mind. I want to see you. Be at our place in about an hour, okay?"
I swallowed heavily. Had she decided that something was wrong? That I was hiding something?
"Britt…?"
"Why?" I said. "What did you want to see me about?"
"What?" I could almost see her frown. "What did I want to see you about? "
I apologized hastily. I said I'd just gone to sleep after tossing and turning all night, and I seemed to be coming down with the flu. "I'd love to see you, Manny, child, but I think it would be bad for you. The way I'm feeling, the farther you
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