That bolt on their bedroom door. Doesn’t know what its original purpose could have been. The elderly couple they bought the house from and whom they’d never met were the only previous owners, so they had to have put it on. Maybe they feared burglars — they might even have been burglarized before they got the bolt — and used it when they went to bed. They had no children, the real-estate agent said. The kids’ bedrooms had been this couple’s studies and Gwen’s study had been their TV room. Gwen and he only used the bolt when they were about to make love, or knew sometime beforehand they were going to make love, and the kids were home. Didn’t want one of them suddenly opening the door on them in bed, which Maureen did once and saw Gwen on top of him. She was seven or eight, and she said “Oh,” and ran out. “What was that?” Gwen said, still on top of him but no longer moving, and he said “Maureen; she’s gone.” “Good God,” she said, getting off, “what she must have thought,” and he said “That’s what I was thinking. We can tell her you were massaging me for something that aches…a sore muscle,” and she said “Massaging the front?” “The shoulders, or you’d fallen asleep reading on my side of the bed and were climbing over me to get to yours. That’s why the light was on,” and she said “But why would I have no clothes on? Do you think she was sick? That’s why she came in? One of us should check. And no, we’ll say nothing about what happened, unless she asks. If she does, we’ll say…we’ll come up with something by morning. If she saw your erection, then I don’t know what, but it makes it even worse. I don’t want her not only confused but frightened.” “She didn’t. I was inside you the two seconds she was in the room,” and she said “Not all the time. All the way in, half out; that’s how it works,” and he said “I think this time I was all the way in when I saw her. And your hair was spread out and covering a lot of me, so she might not have seen anything.” “From now on,” she said, “we should use the door bolt every time we go to bed, or when we know there’s a good chance we’re going to make love. And if we don’t know, but start to make love, one of us will get up and very quietly slide the bolt in.” He was going to say, but didn’t. Too stupid a joke. “Should I bolt it now?” and she said “Her seeing us has taken whatever there was out of me.” “I’ll be extremely quiet and go on top; make it as easy for you as can be,” and she said “Tomorrow. Will you see if she’s all right?” and he put on his bathrobe and went into Maureen’s room and she was sleeping or pretending to.
They were in bed, watching Key Largo on Maryland Public Television for the second time that year. She was laughing and said “The dialog really kills me. ‘All right, you guys, I’m Johnny Rocco, see? See?’” and he said “I think the ‘see’ part of your impersonation is from another Edward G. Robinson movie. And the ‘All right, you guys,’ is James Cagney, if he ever said it in a movie. But let me watch it, will ya? It’s a good picture, good acting, and some of the lines are classic.” She sat up against the headboard and made as if she were chomping on a big cigar and then holding it and flicking its ashes to the floor and said “Listen, wise guy, nobody tells Johnny Rocco what to do, see? You think you’re a big war hero, but you’re nobody compared to me. I’m Johnny Rocco, king of the rackets, once. That’s who I am. And after my deal goes through I’m gonna be on top again, you wait and see.” “Okay, Johnny, but the movie—” and she said “Okay, nothing, wise guy. Mess with Johnny Rocco and his boys and you’ll get what’s coming to you, or what’s coming out of you, your last breath, see? See?” when the phone rang. “Late,” he said, and got out of bed, lowered the television sound and picked up the receiver. “I’m sorry for calling at this hour,” their real-estate agent said, “but I have good news. The Hendricksons have taken your offer”—he raised his fist above his head and said to Gwen “They’ve taken our offer” and she yelled “Hurray”—“and if there are no unexpected setbacks,” the agent said, “—mortgage, financing, deed; you know — the house is yours.” “Oh, that’s wonderful,” he said. “Call anytime you want with such great news. My wife and I are very happy,” and she said “Have a good weekend.” He hung up and said “That was Mrs. Blinkova, of course. They actually took our low offer. We’re in,” and she pretended to puff on a cigar and blow smoke out of her mouth and said “Know how we got the house, wise guy? Hey? Because Johnny Rocco told them to. Nobody says no to Johnny Rocco and lives to tell it. Nobody, you hear? or they’re dead meat.” “Okay,” he said, “we can see the movie anytime,” and turned it off. He sat on the bed and put his arms out and they hugged. “You can be very funny sometimes,” he said, “did you know that?” “Well, as my mother likes to remind me—” and he said “You’ve told me, you’ve told me, but it just ain’t true. You were always clever and had a great sense of humor and flair for mimicry. I had nothing to do with it. It’s just, once you got rid of your suspicions about me—” and she said “And what were they?” “That I was a bit of an oddball or strange. Just the way I approached you the first night we met. ‘You probably won’t want to speak to me—’” and she said “You keep saying you said that. I forgot what you did say when you first spoke to me, but it wasn’t that. I admit I was a little leery of you. First of all, the shirt you wore to the party,” and he said “I’ve told you. I didn’t know it was going to be a party. I thought—” and she said “I know, but it was such an ugly shirt. And the way you stared at me every chance you could, without coming over and introducing yourself. Or just coming over and standing there and saying nothing would have been better. And that you waited to speak to me till I was at the elevator. Strange, really; as you said, odd behavior. I’m surprised I didn’t think you were a little creepy.” “Then I’m lucky you even consented to meet me the first time,” and she said “Oh, you were nice looking, and when you finally did speak, you spoke well. Those were pluses, and you seemed smart. Besides, it was only an hour out of my time — on my way home from my therapist — and if it didn’t work out, no great loss for either of us. But after our first date — or after the second. No, the first, for coffee, the Ansonia, I was no longer leery of you and thought you were just fine.” “That’s what I meant. You relaxed. And you were funny, showed a terrific sense of humor, or one I certainly appreciated, from the second or third date on. But what are we talking about this for? The new house, Gwen. Baltimore County. More land and trees around us and the nearest neighbor a few hundred feet away. A carport. A garden shed. Cheaper real-estate taxes and auto insurance than in the city, I hear, and better schools for the kids. A screen painting on the front door. And a complete house, not semidetached, so windows on all sides and everything on one floor and no more going up and down stairs.” “A ranch house,” she said. “An unfinished basement we’ll have to pour several thousand dollars into it to make it habitable.” “As my father would probably have said: ‘You own a ranch house, you could buy a horse.’ But this is great. We got what we wanted, and at a steal. Let’s open a good bottle of wine to celebrate. I’d say champagne, but we haven’t got one that’s cold.” “No wine for me — too late for it — but you have,” and he said “I don’t mind if I do,” kissed her and went downstairs and got an expensive bottle of wine from the wine rack in the dining room, opened it and poured himself a glass. He should bring up a glass for her too, he thought. He drank his glass, poured himself another and one for her, sipped at his because he’d filled it to the brim and he didn’t want to spill any carrying it, and brought the glasses upstairs. “Do you want to go back to the movie?” she said. “It still has a long ways to go. The hurricane; the two dead Indians; Bogart knocking off the whole gang in the boat,” and he said “I’ve had enough. How about you?” and held out a glass for her and she said in her Johnny Rocco voice “Johnny Rocco told you he didn’t want a drink, din’t he? Din’t he? Why you always got to do what Johnny Rocco says he don’t want you to? But okay, he don’t want to ruin your fun, so he’ll let you get away with it today,” and she took the glass.