congealed.
“Good evening,” came this sexy voice from the stairs.
She stood there for a moment, and I couldn’t believe my eyes. I knew she had been digging out some old rags of Conchetta’s, but I hadn’t expected this. She was wearing a white dress with two million ruffles and a neckline that was the lowest she’d ever worn… and makeup and high heels and an ostrich feather in her hair. She looked just like one of those unknown actresses you see on the TV summer-replacement programs.
“You look beautiful!”
“Do you mean it?”
I let out a growl and started toward her, imitating Bobo. She squealed with laughter and ran back up the stairs with me right after her.
“Stop it, John!”
“I am a handsome European businessman, and you are in love with me!”
She tried to hold the bedroom door shut, but I forced it, and she ran to the far side so there was only the bed between us.
“Come to me, my darling!”
We were both laughing so hard we could hardly speak.
“One kiss is all I ask!”
I caught her and threw her on the bed. I could hear the sound of the cameras clicking away on the set.
“One kiss!”
“John, stop it now. I’m not kidding.” She started laughing again right in my arms, but I stopped it by putting my lips on hers. It was the first time we had ever kissed. When I moved my lips away from hers, we just looked at each other, and somehow we were not acting anymore.
“I think we’d better go downstairs,” Lorraine said.
“All right.”
“Dinner is served,” she announced, carrying this big plate of congealed spaghetti. We each sat at opposite ends of the table with the candles burning away. I poured us some wine in these long-stemmed glasses, and for a few moments we just sat looking at each other—her with the feather in her hair and me with my moustache.
“To the Pigman,” I said softly.
“To the Pigman.”
She lifted her glass, and she was lovely.
12
I wish this one would hurry up and croak because her husband has been getting a little too friendly lately.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Any man who can even think of flirting with another woman while his wife is on her deathbed deserves to be shot.”
“Can I have seventy-five cents to get my blue dress out of the cleaners?” I asked, though I could tell by the way she was fidgeting with her hairbrush that she was not finished with her own topic.
“Get it out of my pocketbook, and hand me my compact while you’re at it.” She loosened the knot on her bathrobe and sat down at the kitchen table.
“He calls me out into the hall and asks how his wife is doing, and all the time he’s got his hands in his pockets and is giving me this wink. I don’t know what he heard about nurses, but I think I set him straight.”
I went into the bedroom and started straightening up, hoping she’d stop repeating herself.
“I looked him right in the eye, and I said, ‘Mr. Mooney, I think it would be a nice gesture if you went in and held your wife’s hand. It might help her forget the pain from her cancer.’”
“I have to leave for school now, Mother,” I said, wondering what she’d do if she was taking care of Mr. Pignati. “Give me a kiss.”
“Be careful…. Lorraine, don’t you think that skirt is a little too short?”
“It’s the longest skirt in the sophomore class.”
“Don’t be fresh. Just because all the other girls have sex on their minds, doesn’t mean you have to.”
John wasn’t at the bus stop that morning, but we finally got together during third-period lunch. His hair was combed for the first time in months, and he actually had on a clean shirt. I could tell he was still charged up over our having the Pigman’s house to ourselves.
“I didn’t get in until the start of the second period.”
“How come?”
“Bore wanted to know how I could be missing
forty-two
homework assignments in Problems in American Democracy, and I told him it was because I can’t concentrate with the
“Good evening,” came this sexy voice from the stairs.
She stood there for a moment, and I couldn’t believe my eyes. I knew she had been digging out some old rags of Conchetta’s, but I hadn’t expected this. She was wearing a white dress with two million ruffles and a neckline that was the lowest she’d ever worn… and makeup and high heels and an ostrich feather in her hair. She looked just like one of those unknown actresses you see on the TV summer-replacement programs.
“You look beautiful!”
“Do you mean it?”
I let out a growl and started toward her, imitating Bobo. She squealed with laughter and ran back up the stairs with me right after her.
“Stop it, John!”
“I am a handsome European businessman, and you are in love with me!”
She tried to hold the bedroom door shut, but I forced it, and she ran to the far side so there was only the bed between us.
“Come to me, my darling!”
We were both laughing so hard we could hardly speak.
“One kiss is all I ask!”
I caught her and threw her on the bed. I could hear the sound of the cameras clicking away on the set.
“One kiss!”
“John, stop it now. I’m not kidding.” She started laughing again right in my arms, but I stopped it by putting my lips on hers. It was the first time we had ever kissed. When I moved my lips away from hers, we just looked at each other, and somehow we were not acting anymore.
“I think we’d better go downstairs,” Lorraine said.
“All right.”
“Dinner is served,” she announced, carrying this big plate of congealed spaghetti. We each sat at opposite ends of the table with the candles burning away. I poured us some wine in these long-stemmed glasses, and for a few moments we just sat looking at each other—her with the feather in her hair and me with my moustache.
“To the Pigman,” I said softly.
“To the Pigman.”
She lifted her glass, and she was lovely.
12
I wish this one would hurry up and croak because her husband has been getting a little too friendly lately.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Any man who can even think of flirting with another woman while his wife is on her deathbed deserves to be shot.”
“Can I have seventy-five cents to get my blue dress out of the cleaners?” I asked, though I could tell by the way she was fidgeting with her hairbrush that she was not finished with her own topic.
“Get it out of my pocketbook, and hand me my compact while you’re at it.” She loosened the knot on her bathrobe and sat down at the kitchen table.
“He calls me out into the hall and asks how his wife is doing, and all the time he’s got his hands in his pockets and is giving me this wink. I don’t know what he heard about nurses, but I think I set him straight.”
I went into the bedroom and started straightening up, hoping she’d stop repeating herself.
“I looked him right in the eye, and I said, ‘Mr. Mooney, I think it would be a nice gesture if you went in and held your wife’s hand. It might help her forget the pain from her cancer.’”
“I have to leave for school now, Mother,” I said, wondering what she’d do if she was taking care of Mr. Pignati. “Give me a kiss.”
“Be careful…. Lorraine, don’t you think that skirt is a little too short?”
“It’s the longest skirt in the sophomore class.”
“Don’t be fresh. Just because all the other girls have sex on their minds, doesn’t mean you have to.”
John wasn’t at the bus stop that morning, but we finally got together during third-period lunch. His hair was combed for the first time in months, and he actually had on a clean shirt. I could tell he was still charged up over our having the Pigman’s house to ourselves.
“I didn’t get in until the start of the second period.”
“How come?”
“Bore wanted to know how I could be missing
forty-two
homework assignments in Problems in American Democracy, and I told him it was because I can’t concentrate with the
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