“Did we?” I asked the woman, who showed some signs of stirring.
It was odd that I could remember the major events of what hadn’t happened yet but no telling details from the recent past.
“What time is it?” she asked. “I must have fallen asleep. I never intended to stay the night.”
When she emerged from the bed — I had my back turned so as not to reveal the extent of my vain unappeasable need — she was fully dressed. “Do my parents know you’re here?”
“You told me they were away,” she said.
Did I? They almost never went anywhere — my father liked to sleep in his own bed — so it was hard to imagine where they might be if not somewhere in the house. “Did I mention when they’d be back?” I asked.
“It doesn’t matter, sweetheart,” she said, caressing my face. “I’ll be on my way.”
I searched the files of memory for her name and the only thing that came to mind was Mrs. Andsons, who was the local pharmacist’s wife. I spoke it under my breath so she could avoid responding if it wasn’t her own.
“Yes?” she said.
I had no question for her or none I felt comfortable asking, but I couldn’t let this opportunity pass unventured without losing respect for myself. “You might think this is a weird thing to ask,” I said, “but I must have had too much to drink because I don’t remember what we did last night. What did we… do?”
“You have nothing to reproach yourself with,” she said. “Nothing.”
If she intended her comment to ease my mind, it served in fact to exacerbate my uneasiness. “Nothing?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she said. “You’ll have to excuse me now, Jack. I really have to get home and make nice. When I’m not in the old tyrant’s bed overnight, he’s subject to evil thoughts in the morning.”
I tried to think of something to say that would keep her with me a little longer but nothing I came up with sounded quite right. At the last, I made the worst of several possible choices. “Give me another chance,” I said.
She took a step toward me which she instantly nullified by taking a step back. “Sweetheart, I can’t,” she said. “It’s so sweet of you to ask and I am tempted, but no, no I can’t. Maybe another time. You never know. The gift-wrapped package of Trojans I brought over, darling, are in the sock drawer of your dresser.”
She blew me a kiss and escaped through a series of doors into the street and I watched her ruefully from the window. She seemed to morph into Molly as she hurried away.
Even in my dreams, even with a willing partner, I couldn’t get it right.
I went back to bed and closed my eyes with renewed resolution.
This time when Hannah and I made love for the first time, it would not be in the backseat of my father’s Dodge.
This time I would not have sex with Anna’s friend, Yvonne, in an airport phone booth.
This time I would not disappoint Molly, betray Anna, run from Mina. I would continue to love them no matter how badly we treated each other. If you refuse to acknowledge disillusion, love can survive anything.
No matter, I would wake in the morning an old man in Mina’s bed.
Nevertheless at fifteen years and a day, setting hypocrisy aside, all I really wanted in this life — the be-all and end-all of my childhood aspirations — was to get my ashes hauled, get laid, get screwed, get fucked, get going.
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