“I bellyached, true. So we didn’t do that so well together, nor your foyer. Like to stop for a bite together? Empire Cafe on your right.”
“No, just want to go home and go to bed.”
“Mind if I ask how your work’s going, just to keep us compatibly on the road together?”
“Enough already with together. And fine. Curating fine?” We’ve stopped for a light. He didn’t answer. I look over at him. He’s looking pretty seriously at me. “Yipes, what’s coming next?”
“What do you expect? You’re so fucking great looking.”
“Now now.”
“Now now nothing. Fucking exciting great. I have got to kiss you. This is a long light. I know it from other nights. This one and another on Riverside and Eighty-third. I have got to, Helene.”
“Not to distract you, but did you put aftershave on in the men’s room?”
“Okay, why?”
“Just curious. You carry it in or was some left there?”
“On the sink shelf. The manufacturer of it put a few atomizers there as a test of a new scent, a note said on the mirror. I was supposed to take a prestamped card and send it in as to what I thought of it. You like it? I don’t mind it but I won’t ask for it at the store, which is what their real intention was.”
“It’s all right. Not alluring, not repelling. But I don’t especially like fake scents on men as you might have remembered, nor any strong work scent either, though I can appreciate the latter more.”
“I don’t remember. I should have, shouldn’t I? What I actually thought was that you liked men’s cologne. I couldn’t have been thinking of anyone else. But what about it?” and he makes little kissing noises. “I want to, mucho.”
“Then don’t make a big thing of it or hit me with the dirties or chipmunk sound effects. But do it before the light changes.”
“You’re not doing this just to keep the journey safe?”
“Oh sure, some safe journey. But I’m not. I’d like to kiss you.” A car honks behind us. Light’s changed. “Too late. I knew you were stalling. Next red light and no blab about how you have got to and my exciting nothingness. Just lean over. I’ll be here, maybe a few inches closer, and ready.”
“We should also go to bed.”
“Now stop. One thing at a time and now’s not that time.”
“If it leads to it?”
“What’s got into you? You were never so unwilling to just kiss nor exacting for future promises from it. So let’s at the next red and if it leads to that other thing, it does. I could do it. I’m pretty ready for that too. Truthfully, it wouldn’t be because I was in any but maybe an old memory way touched with unfulfilled feelings for you. You’re still attractive to me. And I know what we could usually do once we got around to it even in some of our worst moments, and that you wouldn’t make a big deal of it. And you wouldn’t, would you? That is, if we did ultimately do it — because that wouldn’t be like you. It’s not smart to sleep with ex-boyfriends if they’re going to put you through things after you’ve slept with them again for one night.”
“We were almost engaged.”
“The light coming up is about to turn red. Are you still game for just starters?”
“There won’t be a problem.” We’re driving along the alternative road for the highway. River’s on our left and not too far ahead an enormous liner is docked, with all its lights on it seems and one of its smokestacks going. We’re a few blocks from the elevated part of the highway if that part hasn’t been torn down too. Didn’t a moving truck sink through what became its razed part somewhere around here which started this whole multibillion dollar removal? Light’s red. We’ve stopped, he moves closer to me, I stay still, we kiss. Feels good. “Nice, huh?” he says. “You always had the softest lips existent, except when you got a sore or two on them. Mind?”
“Another kiss? No.”
He kisses me harder, tries to pry my lips open with his tongue and I fight him. Oh let him, so I let him. We go at it like that, his hand on my thigh, mine on his, both stroking, lips not parting, my skin jingling and head back to boozy. Honks, like a boop-boop-be-doop, behind us. He releases me and the handbrake and we drive on. “Come to my place,” he says when we’re passing the liner and going up the highway ramp too fast for me to catch its name. I always wanted to see the QE2 up close, and maybe I just did, but only with a bit of rummaging through today’s or tomorrow’s newspaper about ship arrivals and departures will I know. “You don’t have to stay the night, but stay if you want to. In fact if you do come you should stay. But come — that’s the important thing. Helene?”
“I’m here; I was just thinking. Was that the QE2 we passed?”
“I didn’t see it.”
“It was several blocks long and had three smokestacks and a dark hull.”
“I once sailed on the Queen and in the six or seven days it took to Bremer-haven — seven, since Le Havre was six — I don’t ever remember observing how many stacks it had. But sounds right. Most liners have two. Huge ships like the Queen, probably three.”
“I’d love to sail on it, but only to Europe. I’ve never gone by ship.”
“We could this summer. Fly one way, return by ship, or the reverse. The Queen still does.”
“Please, we will not. And your place? Also not a good idea. I don’t care what I said about old boyfriends or even near-fiancés, it’s different with ones I loved, and I loved you, you jerk.”
“And this jerk loved you. So it stopped for us both. But we could still fuck tonight, because look at that kiss.”
“You have to say it that way? I’ve nothing against curse words, but that’s all acting on your part. Turning-me-on talk that’s turning me off.”
“Pigshit. Scumbags. Fistfuckers. Cocksucking. It’s a great idea, not a good one, and you have a great body, not a good one, and I want to fuck it. I want to fuck you. I want to screw you and lay you and perform the act of love with you and grab your ass with me on top of your ass and big tits with me on the bottom and I want to suck, fuck and pluck and really plow you. I want to very badly. So, that’s so bad? Fuck it and too fucking bad, for that’s what the fuck I feel and want to do.”
“Thank goodness there are no red lights on this.”
He pulls over to the right, puts the hazard lights on and starts coming to a stop.
“Don’t! That’s insane! You’ll kill us!”
“Sorry,” and he pulls into the driving lane. “And I’m a dummy and also sorry for my talk if it repulsed you.”
“It didn’t repulse. It—”
“Whatever, I’m sorry, and you know what I still want to do. We’d do it for the pure kicks of it and because we once loved and now very much like and respect one another, at least you can be assured I still do with you and even if that respect part sounds contradictory after my fuck talk. Or for no other reason but — no, no reason at all or not one we—”
“Oh—”
“Please, Helene.”
“Oh, I’ll come up. I can’t seem to — oh, I can but I don’t want to argue, because why not? — sure. But only if you promise to give me a good back massage and a glass of seltzer.”
“I’ll massage you anywhere and all night if you want and I only have club soda.”
“I thought I could always get seltzer at your place.”
“Maybe I have some. I probably do, put away for special occasions.”
“And just my back. Don’t get so enterprising. I doubt my body could take more than that tonight. Now I’m going to doze off but not so deeply where you can’t wake me when we arrive.”
“You want to have a baby badly, don’t you.”
“Whuh?” My eyes had been shut five seconds.
“Not by me, but you really still do. Just answer me, then doze.”
“Why that out of nowhere?”