Tim nodded, reached for his coat. "Can we meet another time?"
There was fear in Judy's eyes. "I don't know, Tim," she said. "It might be dangerous. For you, I mean, not for me."
"I don't care about that," Tim said fiercely. "I have to see you again. I have to…"
Judy saw the passion in his eyes, heard it in his trembling voice. It made her afraid, but it excited her too. She began to think about Tim's hands, to feel them stroking her breasts, reaching into the warm wet darkness of her pussy. "We'll see," she said, smiling. "We'll see. You know where to find me."
Tim nodded slowly. He was on fire with love for her, wanted her body more than he had ever wanted anything. Nothing was going to come between them; not Jay, not Slackjaws, nothing.
He put on his coat, stared deep into Judy's eyes for a moment, then turned and walked out the door. He stood there, very still, breathing deeply, trying to think. Something new had come into his life, something new and tremendously exciting, this beautiful girl with her full ripe body, this girl named Judy. Maybe this is it, he thought, maybe my luck's finally changing. He felt that with Judy beside him he could do anything, quit Jay, go out on his own, maybe even find a way to get into college and become a doctor. Anything was possible now.
He began walking down the street, lost in his fantasies, in dreams of a solid and glorious future with Judy, his wife. He was so wrapped up in plans that at first he didn't hear her voice calling him, or if he did hear, he assumed it was part of the dream. "Tim," she called. "Tim, wait."
Then he heard footsteps behind him. He turned around and there she was, panting, her hair wild on her shoulders, her eyes burning with passion. "Wait," she said, breathlessly. "I changed my mind."
"You what?"
"I changed my mind," she said. "To hell with Jay, to hell with all of them. I want to be with you."
Tim could scarcely believe what he heard. She was going to forsake Jay, to put herself in danger just to be with him? "You want to what?"
"I want to be with you."
Tim's mind stopped. He embraced Judy, holding her as tightly as he could, his arms trembling. He could feel the firmness of her breasts as they pressed against him, and the smooth bones of her pelvis moving along his loins. Her arms circled his neck, her hands ran wildly through his hair. "Hold it," he laughed, "or we're going to be doing it right here on the street."
"I wouldn't mind," Judy said, her voice shaking with desire. She let go of him and they started walking, not quite knowing where they were, arm in arm, no sounds but their footsteps, no thought except to get to Judy's place, to get to bed.
Judy made a scotch and water for each of them. Once inside the apartment, Tim had become nervous; Judy hoped the drink would calm him down a bit. She didn't quite understand his nervousness – maybe it had been a long time since he'd been with a woman, maybe he was afraid that he wouldn't be able to make love. Or maybe he had some disease and was ashamed to tell her about it. Men were strange, she thought; they got upset about such trivial things.
But Tim was thinking about something else: he was thinking about Judy's job, about all the men she'd been with in the past. Maybe, he thought, maybe she's even been with someone else earlier today, or this evening. The thought of Judy lying naked in bed with some anonymous john made Tim burn with anger and jealousy. He wanted to ask her about it, wanted to know exactly how many men she'd had, what their names were, their occupations, what they'd said to her. He especially wanted to know if she'd ever enjoyed fucking any of them, and if she'd ever brought anyone else up to this place, her own apartment. He wanted to ask her all these things, but at the same time he felt a little childish, so he kept quiet.
Judy brought the drink over, smiled at him, knelt down on the floor in front of him. She began to rub the inside of his thigh, leaving trails of electric sensation as she ran her fingernails up his crotch. Tim felt his balls swell, his penis begin to come to life. He reached out quickly and grabbed her hand, pulled it away from his legs. "Wait!"
"Tim, what's wrong? Why don't you tell me?"
"Nothing's wrong," he said.
"Sure there is. Please tell me about it maybe I can help."
Tim glared angrily at her. "Maybe you can help? Sure you can help. Just like you help all your customers. It's all part of the job, isn't it, all in a day's work – make them relax, make them feel special, make them forget that you're a whore."
"So that's it," Judy said quietly.
"You're damned right that's it." Tim was almost shouting. "How many men have you had this week? How many today? You say you wouldn't take me to your place of business, but how do I know if you're telling me the truth? How do I know? What if I'm just another john, and all this is a set-up; what then?"
"Have I asked you for money?"
"No, not yet at least. But what's going to happen when we're through? How do I know you won't say 'Tim, darling, I need to buy some stockings; could you give me a hundred dollars?'"
"You don't know."
"You're damned right I don't know. Back there in the bar you made me believe that I was something different, something new in your life, something special. But now we get up here, and what do you do? You make me a drink, just like I was one of your tricks, some scared little guy who was too afraid to make love to you without being full of booze first. Then you come over and start rubbing my leg, just like you'd do for any of your customers. Oh, it felt good, very good. You must have had a lot of practice. Well, practice on someone else. I can buy a whore anytime. With you I was hoping for something a little different."
Judy was hurt by this speech, but she understood Tim's feelings, knew that the problem would have to be dealt with sometime, and that now, before they actually got involved, would be as good a time as any. "Tim," she said softly, "this is something different. You are special. I knew that as soon as we started talking. You're the first man I ever met who gave a damn about me, who cared about anything except my body. Of course you're special. There's no way I can prove that to you, not now, certainly not with words. You'll just have to trust me. You'll have to believe that I'm not lying to you." She took his hand. "Here," she said. "Look at me."
Tim raised his eyes to meet hers. Immediately he knew that she was telling the truth – her eyes were clear and strong, without the slightest trace of deceit. This was his woman, her eyes made him understand that, made him forget all his doubts.
"OK," he said. "I believe you. I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry." Judy smiled at him. "Just talk to me."
Tim got up, began striding happily around the living room. The apartment was not luxurious, but Judy had made it a comfortable place to live: soft pillows lay on the floor, and the obviously second-hand furniture had been covered with bright fabrics. There were paintings on the wall, and posters from other countries. One poster in particular caught Tim's attention – it was from Italy, showed a small village set high in the Dolomite Alps. All the houses were made of native stone, the sky very blue, the light on the village crisp and clear.
"You know what I think?" Tim said.
"What do you think?"
"I think maybe we should go there." He pointed at the poster.
Judy laughed. "Dreamer."
"Sure it's a dream, but we could do it. We could save some money, quit Jay Snyder, and go to someplace like that to live. Once we were out of the country Jay couldn't touch us." He looked back at the poster. "Sure," he said softly, talking as much to himself as to Judy, "we could do it. Look at that place. So peaceful. We'd have nothing at all to worry about."
Judy was still laughing. "Which would you rather do first," she said, "go to medical school or go to Italy?"