“I haven’t done anything.”
“But you’re pretty sure Owen has. Is.”
“I’m pretty sure. Basically, I’m sure.”
“But you haven’t asked.”
“We don’t talk about it. Asking is against the rules.”
“The rules! I love it,” said Sunny. “You do realize this whole thing is completely insane, right?”
“Nothing bad has happened.”
“Yet,” added Sunny Bang. “Nothing bad has happened yet.”
Lucy couldn’t help herself. She was curious. “So, is he, like, a guy from that affair website you told me about?”
“No. He’s just a guy I know. I went to college with his sister. He lives in the city.”
“How do you know he’ll have sex with me?”
“Trust me, he’ll sleep with anyone,” said Sunny. “Plus, you’re gorgeous. Anyone would sleep with you.”
Lucy rolled her eyes. “What’s wrong with him, besides the fact that he’ll apparently sleep with anyone?”
“Nothing.”
“Sunny…”
“Okay,” said Sunny Bang. “He’s not what you’d consider classically good-looking.”
“Here we go,” said Lucy.
“But you know how those not-super-great-looking guys can hit their early forties and develop some character in their faces and become sort of appealing? That’s him. And he works out. He goes to the gym. His body is pretty decent from what I could tell.”
“When did you see him last?”
“At his sister’s second wedding last Saturday. It was at some rent-a-loft in Tribeca,” Sunny said. “GO, TOBIAS! YOU GOT IT! YOU GOT THIS ONE, BABY! GOOD EFFORT!”
“And you talked to him? About me?”
“I didn’t use your name. But I told him about you. I explained your situation.”
“You just said you had a married friend who was looking to have meaningless sex with someone and he was like, Sign me up?”
“What part of this don’t you understand?”
“Just, who would say yes to that sort of thing?”
“Um, a man?”
Lucy looked over at Wyatt. He was dressed in his soccer uniform, everything except the long yellow socks, which were a truly vile wool-polyester blend that he refused to wear because they itched. He was alone, far away from the action, flicking the flag that marked a corner of the field while he flapped his hands and bounced up and down on the balls of his feet. At least he’s on the field, Lucy thought. At least he’s having fun.
“Is he repulsive or something?”
“No. Not even a little bit. I promise you. He’s got a weird sexy thing going. He once slept with Helena Bonham Carter.”
“Really?”
“It was a while ago. But yes. It happened. It is verifiable. I have it from multiple sources. ETHAN, I SEE YOU! STOP PICKING YOUR NOSE!”
“Sunny, that’s not even your kid!”
“So?”
“You can’t yell at other people’s kids!”
“Of course I can. People don’t yell at other people’s kids enough as far as I’m concerned. ETHAN, COME OVER HERE FOR A WET WIPE RIGHT THIS SECOND.”
Sunny started to fish around in her enormous purse for a wipe for the nose-picker. “He’s not looking for anything serious. He just got a divorce. I think his ex did a number on him. They have two preteenish girls together, and they share custody.”
“Why’d they get a divorce?”
“Unclear,” said Sunny. “But I can make a few calls if you want.”
“Please don’t.”
“I’m just saying, he seems perfect for this scenario,” said Sunny.
“Perfect how, exactly?”
“Well, he’s not going to slit your throat in a motel room somewhere. Call me crazy, but I consider that a major plus,” said Sunny. “And he’s smart and he’s funny and he’s a good guy. He lives in the city, so no one in town will find out. And he won’t screw up your entire life.”
“It just feels, I don’t know, not like me,” said Lucy. “But thanks for thinking about me. Thanks for trying to be my pimp.”
“The clock is ticking,” Sunny said, and then she lowered her voice. “And you need to get your dick wet.”
“Jesus, Sunny.”
“I expressed my opposition to this entire experiment, but now that it’s actually happening, it’s not fair that Owen is running around having sex with strangers and you aren’t,” Sunny Bang said. Parents of the opposing team cheered poor-sportsmanship-ly when the ball rolled slowly past Beekman’s goalie and made its way into the side of the net.
“You know me,” Sunny Bang said. “I’m all about fair.”
*
Claire watched Sunny Bang and Lucy’s little confab from about twenty yards down the sideline while she pretended to be paying attention to the soccer game and typing important things into her phone. Normally, Sunny and Lucy would have waved her over and had her join their conversation, but there was almost a bubble around the two of them, the way they were talking to each other so quietly and intently. Something’s going on, Claire thought. I wonder what it is?
It wasn’t until the game was finally over, and Lucy was loading up her car, that Claire found an opening. “I saw Owen on the other side of the river yesterday afternoon,” Claire said.
“Oh yeah? He didn’t mention it.”
“I don’t think he saw me,” said Claire. “He was at Home Depot.”
Lucy looked like she was barely listening. She was wrestling with Wyatt, trying to get him into his car seat.
“You have to be strapped in, honey,” Lucy said to Wyatt. “It’s not safe.”
“I don’t want to be safe!”
Wyatt was arching his back as hard as he could and Lucy was pushing him into the car seat, trying to get the straps buckled across his chest.
“He was buying an air conditioner,” Claire continued. “Owen was. One of those window units. Like we all had in college!”
“Sorry, Claire, I can’t talk, I’ve gotta handle my kid.”
“Of course,” Claire said. “Blake used to hate his car seat too. It’s very normal.”
Just then, Wyatt yelled, “I hate you, Mama!” and spit in Lucy’s face.
Lucy calmly wiped the saliva off her face and went back to wrestling her son. Claire hurried across the parking lot and slipped behind the wheel of her black BMW X5, completely speechless.
*