The Red Car by Marcy Dermansky Page A

out in the middle of the episode.
    â€œAre you sleeping?” Hans would ask, and I would say no, because I actually wasn’t. My eyes were closed, but I could hear still Lauren Ambrose’s voice, complaining about something. I did not have to actually see her, actually watch the show. It was enough to listen. I always thought I would like to be friends with Lauren Ambrose.
    It was odd to be alone in Diego’s apartment. I wandered back into his living room with the idea that I would look at the books on his bookshelf. He had no bookshelves. He had no books. On closer inspection, I found a travel guide to Paris. Paris. I had been to Paris once, with Hans, for a long weekend. It had been a wonderful trip. Until I met Hans, I had never beento Europe. I had not backpacked Europe during college. We went to Venice together. We kissed in a gondola.
    â€œYou see,” I said to Judy.
    She did not answer.
    She was dead.
    Judy.
    I ran water for a bath.
    D IEGO SEEMED MILDLY ANNOYED WITH me.
    â€œYou know one way to end a date fast?” he asked.
    His hands were under my armpits and he was gently lifting me from his wonderfully fancy bathtub. When I was standing up, balanced on my own two feet, he dried me off with a white fluffy towel.
    â€œThis is a gorgeous towel,” I said.
    â€œIt’s called a bath sheet,” Diego said.
    When I was dry, I lifted my arms and slid into the men’s T-shirt he handed me.
    â€œYou are a Giants fan,” I observed.
    â€œYou root for the home team,” Diego said.
    I remembered that he had asked me a question.
    â€œHow do you end a date fast?” I asked him.
    â€œBring home a woman. She goes into the bathroom, to get ready, if you know what I mean, and she finds a naked woman passed out in your bathtub.”
    â€œI was passed out?”
    â€œMaybe a little bit.” Diego laughed. “You know you can drown that way?”
    â€œBut I feel so happy right now,” I said.
    I leaned forward and kissed Diego. He returned my kiss. The only way to make any progress with Diego was to be ina state of intoxication. It was so easy really; I was essentially naked, wearing only Diego’s T-shirt.
    â€œI have always wanted you,” I said.
    â€œI know that,” Diego answered.
    I reached into his pants for his penis and it was already hard. It was smooth in my hand, long, different than the other penises I had known.
    He did not match my declaration of longing. But he seemed entertained by me, which was a good thing. I felt like this was as close as I would ever come. Without clothes, without inhibition. Without guilt, even. There in his bathroom, Diego let me stroke his penis. I pulled on it gently. I was too tired to remain standing. I got down on my knees. I licked the tip of his penis. Diego moaned. I knew from years of experience, from Hans, and Daniel, from my Republican boyfriend in high school whose name I could not remember. This was what a man wanted.
    â€œOh, Leah,” Diego said.
    This was what I had not been able to do for the other Lea. I wish I had. I wondered if it would take a long time, because I was starting to feel cold, uncomfortable, on his tiled bathroom floor. I realized too late that what I wanted, in fact, was for Diego to make love to me. I sensed that would not happen. I did not want to be gently rejected. Not now. I remembered that other time, so many years ago. How much it had hurt, though I had pretended not to care.
    So, I sucked Diego. I cupped his balls with my fingers. Diego pulled my hair. He came in my mouth, without warning, and I swallowed.
    D IEGO WAS GONE WHEN I woke up the next morning, not in his bed, but in the guest room. The guest room, actually, was quite lovely. He had done the coffee preparation in advance, too, with a note that said: Push me .
    Somehow, I doubted Diego had any knowledge of Alice in Wonderland . I pushed the button and waited. The coffee was good. I did not know if I had a