“We don’t need to sniff,” she says. “We have eyes for that.” Her eyes widen and she looks around.
“I’d like to do that,” I say.
“What?”
“Just do it out in the open. On a street, in a park. Everyone could be a witness to it — or maybe a participant.”
“You have exhibitionist tendencies?”
“No,” I say. “I just want something different. I hate the standards.”
“Are you unsatisfied?” she asks.
“Always,” I reply. “Everyone is.”
“No — not everyone. There are people—”
“Are you?”
“What?”
“Satisfied.”
“I don’t think I know what that word means,” Amelia says.
“Um.”
“Hey,” she says, “look at that girl over there.”
“Which one? There’s—”
“The one by that pool table, in the tight, tight, tight black dress.”
“Yeah,” I say, seeing this girl. “It looks painted on her body.”
“Do you think she’s satisfied?”
“No.”
“But she’s so gorgeous.”
“Yes.”
“She could have any man in the world she wants.”
“Possibly. Unless—”
“She probably has a good job,” Amelia says, “if she even has to work. Maybe she’s a model. She probably has lots of money, from the way she dresses, and that jewelry—”
“Maybe, yes.”
“Drives a sports car.”
“Maybe.”
“She’s satisfied,” Amelia says.
“Nah,” I say.
“Why can’t I look like that?” Amelia says. “Why can’t I look like her?”
“You look fine.”
“Why can’t I dress like that?”
“You really want to dress like that?”
“I want a lot of things,” she says. “I want a leather jacket like that girl over there has on.”
I find the next girl in question. “The leather jacket with all those zippers on it?”
“And I want a motorcycle!”
I start to hum the tune to “Born to be Wild.”
She leans forward and whispers, “I want to be fucked all night and come a million times and be drenched in a sea of sweat.”
“I think that can be arranged,” I say.
She straightens her back. “I want to try bungee-jumping.”
“Now that sounds like fun.”
“I want—” She thinks about it. “I want a new car.”
“No, you don’t. Bank loans, payments, credit reports.”
“I want a new dog,” she says, “a little puppy to replace my old dead dog. I miss my old dead dog.”
“I know you do.”
“I loved my dog.”
“She loved you.”
“I wonder what she’s doing now.”
“Flying around in doggie heaven.”
“I miss my life,” she says.
“What happened to your life?”
“Dunno. It’s not the same, not since Nick moved in.”
I smile. “So you live with some guy now.”
“He lives with me.”
“I’m surprised.”
“So am I.”
“This relationship seems very sudden,” I say. “You and Nick.”
“I met him at my summer job. We seemed to get along okay. We went to bed on our second date. The next thing I knew, he’d moved in. We were making love a lot and I liked that and I guess — well, he needed a place and I sure needed help paying the rent.”
“Oh. Just a convenience? Half the rent and groceries and a dick to put in you from time to time?
“He doesn’t even do that anymore,” Amelia says. “He’s only been with for two months and already the sex is dead. The Death of Sex! What a bad thought. Yikes. I think life would be horrible.
“Sometimes, yes,” I say, drinking.
“But you know.”
“I know.”
“My parents have been married twenty-five years.”
“Quarter of a century.”
“They sleep in the same bed, but they don’t fuck.”
“They did at one time. They made you.”
“Well, yeah, they fucked once, maybe quite regularly at some time, but they don’t anymore.”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
“It’s impossible! I just can’t picture my parents doing the nasty. No, no, no — too weird.”
“Mine did it all the time. The walls were thin and I could hear them at night.”
“They don’t even kiss good-bye,” Amelia says. “After all these years, it’s become a routine for them. If the routine were disturbed, the cards would fall. Life would no longer make sense. Weird and bizarre things could happen. I don’t ever want to wind up like that.”
“Then don’t.”
“I have to watch my step.”
“Things could creep up on you.”
“Grab you and gobble you up,” she nods. “Then you’re really trapped!”
“A victim.”
“No way out.”
“No escape.”
“A narrow passage.”
“The clock keeps ticking,” I say.
“God, I really do miss my dog,” she says.
“Get another.”
“I don’t know if I want another pet.”
“How about a fish?”
“Maybe a fish.”
“Get a fish.”
“I hate fish.”
“Elaine and I have a fish,” I say. “It’s a really big ugly fish with huge bug-eyes and it just sits in the water doing nothing but being a big ugly fish with huge bug-eyes sitting in the water doing nothing.”
“Listen—”
“Yeah?”
“I want to say,” she says, “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? For what?”
“I was kind of rude to you the last time we talked.”
“Yes,” I say, “you were just a little bit rude.”
“I didn’t know what to say to you. With Nick moving in.”
I nod and say, “Every time I called or saw you, you brushed me off.”
“I didn’t mean anything by it. I guess — I was a little embarrassed.”
“Why?”
“About Nick.”
“You jumped into it too fast,” I tell her. “Not the best thing to do when you feel lonely. When you’re needy. It’s not a remedy. Not always. Once in a while, maybe.”
Silence. Amelia looks around the bar, then says, “Hey, that girl!” She points. “She got up and went to the bathroom and left her leather jacket right on that chair with no one around to watch it for her.”
“So?”
“No one’s around.”
“Yeah.”
“I want a jacket just like that one.”
“Um.”
“I would do anything for a jacket like that,” she says.
“Oh?”
“Well, heck, I could just go over there and take it and leave the bar quickly and no one would probably notice.”
“Ha!”
“I could.”
“You could.”
“I should.”
I say, “There are no rules when obtaining something you really want.”
“Or need.”
Chapter 10…
“I took it,” Amelia says, smiling and sipping her beer.
“You what?” Lisa says. “You took the leather jacket?”
“Yep.”
“You stole it!” Sheila laughs. “I love it!”
“You didn’t,” Tasha says.
“I did,” Amelia nods. “We got outta there fast, laughing and scared. I was giddy with the adrenaline rush. I was a thief — a leather jacket thief! We both had our cars there, but we took mine — mine was the closest — and we got out of there. And what with all the excitement, of course I wanted him, I knew I wanted him, and so we went back to my place.”
“But Nick was there, wasn’t he?” Cara asks.
“Yeah, that’s what he asked me. I told him Nick was asleep by now. I’m not sure why I wanted to take David to my apartment. We couldn’t go to his — and we could’ve gotten a room, I guess, or fuck in my car, but I wanted him in my home. After all, it was my home and I could do whatever I damn well pleased, right? Maybe I just wanted Nick to see him, and Nick did. It’s weird.