“It’s Zinnie who’s going to be surprised.”
“She’s not going to find out.”
“Carmela. You’ve got a head-sized hole in the windshield and Freddy the torn up head that fits in it. She’s not stupid, you know.”
“Freddy’s going to have the car towed to his garage in the morning.”
“And what’s he going to say about his head?!”
“I don’t know. He’s going to make up some story. I’m not supposed to know. I’m not supposed to have seen him.”
“Cozy. Very cozy.”
“Claire. They’re not married anymore.”
“Oh, right. That changes everything. I suppose that’s why you’re being so clandestine about it. Because it’s perfectly all right. Suppose Zinnie started dating Arnold. I suppose that wouldn’t bother you a bit?”
“Zinnie sceeves Arnold. She thinks he smells like a corpse.”
“That has nothing to do with it.”
“You have nothing to do with it, either.”
This was good. “You woke me up to tell me this?”
“Tch. What a mess. It’s all a mess. I never should have started up with him.”
“You’re damn right you shouldn’t have. And what about AIDS? Just where do you think he’s been since he’s out of the closet?”
“Claire. There are such things as prophylactics.”
“Oh. And you’re sure that that’s enough? I mean is it worth it? You and Mom were telling Zinnie you didn’t want him around Michaelaen, for God’s sake.”
“I know, I know, I know.”
“I mean, it’s your business what you’re up to, but you can’t be pleased with yourself. You can’t.”
Carmela snorted. “I haven’t been pleased with myself since I was in school.”
“Because you were challenged there. You only got mixed up in this nonsense because you’re bored. Why don’t you quit that stupid job and sit down, I mean like really sit down, and write something good. You know you’ve got to sooner or later. You know it’s in you. Don’t you owe anything to the talent you were blessed with?”
“No.”
“Don’t be a jerk.”
“Oh, Claire. You talk like a high school guidance counselor.”
“So? What’s wrong with that?”
“What about you? You could get a job in some terrific studio in the city and work hard and eventually open your own. And what do you do? You wander around here like some refugee from the third world who’s too proud to go on welfare.”
“That’s just what I don’t want. A job in the city. A job in a studio. Any studio. That would be the same as your job at the magazine. Being soothingly polite to arrogant clients who you’d just as soon smash in the teeth. I know how those people are and I don’t want to turn into one of them. They act so big. They act so … so … cool. You just want to put them in a black and white film from the fifties and turn off the sound. I’d rather sell cookies in a shop. And keep my photography the way I like it: pure.”
“Nothing’s pure.”
“Yes, some things are. Saving yourself for someone you love is pure.”
“I don’t know why I bother to talk to you. You’re screwing your brains out with that Polack and that … that pig cop.”
Claire flushed. “Michael was one of those ‘pig cops.’ And I haven’t slept with either of them, for your information.”
“Oh, come on.”
“I haven’t.”
“Well, then you’re more of a dope than I figured.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’d love to be there in the morning when the Traceys wake up and see their sticker bushes gone.”
They both laughed, Carmela harder than Claire, whose heart had gone light and then lead at the mention of Johnny. Her first instinct was joy, but her reason told her bluntly it would never work out. She remembered what Iris had said, and she hugged her knees with grim hope. Carmela’s hearty convulsion was just trailing off in a high, windy note of amusement. She focused her rather bloodshot eyes back on Claire. “Oh, I get it,” she said. “You’re in love. But with which one?”
“Which do you think?”
“The poor one.”
“Bingo.”
“Figures. You always were the one to bring home the mutts.”
“He’s not destitute, Carmela. He has a house. A horrible house, but a house. He’s not some cokie, he’s—”
“That’s all horseshit. What you mean is that he makes your juices run.”
“You’re so poetic. I always liked that about you.”
“Hey. A spade’s a spade. So what’s the plan?”
“Sit back and wait. Either he’ll come after me or he won’t.”
“You wanna borrow something ravishing to sit back and wait in? Like my strapless jewel green?”
Somewhere in the depths of Claire’s mind, preoccupied with the image of Johnny coming across her suddenly in the dazzling green dress, an alarm went off. But Carmela was taking her hand. “Listen, kid,” she said kindly, “if I were you, I wouldn’t sit around and wait for anyone. I’d go after him with big guns.”