“What about it?”
She beamed at him. “I’m gonna be on it, Brian.”
“On the show?”
“Yes! They’re doing a series about … you know, the best local talk shows. And they want me! Isn’t that fabulous?”
He nodded, doing his best to echo her excitement. “That’s really great.”
“They wanna tape us here for part of it.”
“Me, you mean?”
“Sure, you.” She did a sort of Loretta Young twirl around the room. “You and me and Puppy and our drop-dead apartment high atop the city.” She burst into triumphant giggles, flinging her arms around him.
He patted her shoulder and said again: “That’s really great.”
“I’ve been mentally decorating all day.” She broke away from him and began to pace. “I think we need lots more flowers. Orchids, maybe … in those planters made out of twigs and moss.”
He scarcely heard her.
She stopped pacing and scolded him with a little smile.
“Somebody looks out of it. What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” he said.
“Are you still having those headaches?”
“No. I’m fine now.”
“Good.” She surveyed the room, obviously checking camera angles. “I want everyone back in Cleveland to be eating their crummy little hearts out. Oh … Jed stopped by this afternoon.”
He grunted. He’d completely forgotten about the kid.
“Hey,” she said gently. “I thought you were gonna give him a second chance.”
“He’s not worth it,” he said.
“Well, he’s leaving tomorrow afternoon. If you’re gonna talk to him at all …”
“Look,” he snapped. “I’ll go see him—all right?”
She recoiled a little, shaking her hand as if she’d scorched it on a stove. “Somebody needs supper and a back rub,” she said. “I’ll fix us a drink.”
The back rub meant what he thought it would mean. When he felt the pressure of her knees, the cool rivulet of cedar-wood lotion against his back, he knew she intended this as a prelude to sex.
“Guess what my show is about tomorrow?” She smoothed the lotion across his shoulder blades, then swept downward toward his ass.
“What?”
“Foreskin reconstruction. Is that gross or what?”
He laughed into the pillow.
“I have a book I’m supposed to read, but to hell with it.”
He grunted.
“I’d rather play, wouldn’t you?” She leaned down and kissed the left cheek of his ass.
He smiled at her and petted her head and looked at her as lovingly as he knew how. “I’m not up to it, babe. I’m sorry.”
“That’s O.K.,” she said brightly, nuzzling his neck. “I like it up here too.”
“Mmm. So do I.”
“You’re the best company, Brian.”
“Thanks.”
“We have the best time.” She tightened her grip on him and sighed. “I can’t believe it, really. All this and Entertainment Tonight.”
They lay there for a while, drifting off together. Then Mary Ann retreated to the armchair with her circumcision book, peering around it from time to time to catch his eye sympathetically.
He slept fitfully, waking all the way when she turned off the light and climbed into bed next to him.
“What time is it?” he asked.
“Almost midnight,” she replied. “Go to sleep, baby.”
It felt later for some reason. It should have been morning. He turned over several times, trying to find a position in which his muscles wouldn’t ache.
“Are you all right?” she asked, snuggling against his back.
“Just … kinda warm.”
“You’re burning up.”
“If you could just … move over a little.”
She did so. “I’m gonna take your temperature.”
“No. Forget it. I’m O.K.”
“But if—”
“I want to sleep, Mary Ann!”
A wounded silence followed. Finally, she patted his butt and rolled over. “Feel better,” she said.
He slept straight through until her alarm went off. She silenced it by saying “O.K.,” then sat bolt upright in bed. “Brian, these sheets are soaking wet!”
He felt the covers. She was right.
She pressed his forehead, reading his
She beamed at him. “I’m gonna be on it, Brian.”
“On the show?”
“Yes! They’re doing a series about … you know, the best local talk shows. And they want me! Isn’t that fabulous?”
He nodded, doing his best to echo her excitement. “That’s really great.”
“They wanna tape us here for part of it.”
“Me, you mean?”
“Sure, you.” She did a sort of Loretta Young twirl around the room. “You and me and Puppy and our drop-dead apartment high atop the city.” She burst into triumphant giggles, flinging her arms around him.
He patted her shoulder and said again: “That’s really great.”
“I’ve been mentally decorating all day.” She broke away from him and began to pace. “I think we need lots more flowers. Orchids, maybe … in those planters made out of twigs and moss.”
He scarcely heard her.
She stopped pacing and scolded him with a little smile.
“Somebody looks out of it. What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” he said.
“Are you still having those headaches?”
“No. I’m fine now.”
“Good.” She surveyed the room, obviously checking camera angles. “I want everyone back in Cleveland to be eating their crummy little hearts out. Oh … Jed stopped by this afternoon.”
He grunted. He’d completely forgotten about the kid.
“Hey,” she said gently. “I thought you were gonna give him a second chance.”
“He’s not worth it,” he said.
“Well, he’s leaving tomorrow afternoon. If you’re gonna talk to him at all …”
“Look,” he snapped. “I’ll go see him—all right?”
She recoiled a little, shaking her hand as if she’d scorched it on a stove. “Somebody needs supper and a back rub,” she said. “I’ll fix us a drink.”
The back rub meant what he thought it would mean. When he felt the pressure of her knees, the cool rivulet of cedar-wood lotion against his back, he knew she intended this as a prelude to sex.
“Guess what my show is about tomorrow?” She smoothed the lotion across his shoulder blades, then swept downward toward his ass.
“What?”
“Foreskin reconstruction. Is that gross or what?”
He laughed into the pillow.
“I have a book I’m supposed to read, but to hell with it.”
He grunted.
“I’d rather play, wouldn’t you?” She leaned down and kissed the left cheek of his ass.
He smiled at her and petted her head and looked at her as lovingly as he knew how. “I’m not up to it, babe. I’m sorry.”
“That’s O.K.,” she said brightly, nuzzling his neck. “I like it up here too.”
“Mmm. So do I.”
“You’re the best company, Brian.”
“Thanks.”
“We have the best time.” She tightened her grip on him and sighed. “I can’t believe it, really. All this and Entertainment Tonight.”
They lay there for a while, drifting off together. Then Mary Ann retreated to the armchair with her circumcision book, peering around it from time to time to catch his eye sympathetically.
He slept fitfully, waking all the way when she turned off the light and climbed into bed next to him.
“What time is it?” he asked.
“Almost midnight,” she replied. “Go to sleep, baby.”
It felt later for some reason. It should have been morning. He turned over several times, trying to find a position in which his muscles wouldn’t ache.
“Are you all right?” she asked, snuggling against his back.
“Just … kinda warm.”
“You’re burning up.”
“If you could just … move over a little.”
She did so. “I’m gonna take your temperature.”
“No. Forget it. I’m O.K.”
“But if—”
“I want to sleep, Mary Ann!”
A wounded silence followed. Finally, she patted his butt and rolled over. “Feel better,” she said.
He slept straight through until her alarm went off. She silenced it by saying “O.K.,” then sat bolt upright in bed. “Brian, these sheets are soaking wet!”
He felt the covers. She was right.
She pressed his forehead, reading his
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