I Came Out for This? (19 page)

“He reminds me of Ted Bundy,” Kimba said.

“Honey, that man makes Ted Bundy look like Jeffrey Dahmer,” Nicky said.

At that moment, Jerome sashayed in, covered with snow. He wasn't even wearing a coat. He had on brown corduroy pants and timberland boots and a yellow shirt and a yellow scarf, and he looked like John Shaft. My first thought was that Kimba would leave.

“Hello, ladies,” Jerome said, grinning.

“What are you doing here?” Nicky said coldly. Jerome
slid in the booth next to me and said to Nicky, “Hello, darling.” Nicky's face softened, and then he turned to Kimba, his next victim. “Hello, Kimba, my love,” he said. “I brought you something.” He took a small box out of his pocket and pushed it across the table. “What is it?” Kimba said. Ordinarily she would be suspicious, but after a potent whisky sour she had kind of a dopey smile on her face. Jerome had probably waited until he knew we would be inebriated before descending on us.

“Open it and see,” he said.

Inside the box was a stunning grasshopper pin, with a tiny diamond between the wings. “Only the best for the best,” Jerome said in his buttery baritone. Kimba stared at it.

“What did you do, steal it from one of your whores?” snapped Nicky.

“No, I didn't steal it,” replied Jerome. “My sister gave it to me. It was my mother's. I went to my sister's in Virginia last week and I saw it in her room. I remembered that Kimba liked grasshoppers, so I told my sister my mother promised that pin to me and she gave it to me.” Most likely his mother had promised no such thing.

Kimba smiled at the grasshopper, then she took it out and pinned it on her vest. It looked beautiful. The way to her heart is through
stuff
. She collects colored glass and sports memorabilia and bears, but her passion is grasshoppers, because her first toy was a stuffed grasshopper. “Thank you,” she said to Jerome. “That was sweet.”

Nicky sneered. “You are so shameless,” he said to Jerome, and Jerome smiled proudly.

And then we proceeded to have the most marvelous
time. Jerome told Nicky he had put a down payment on a large-screen TV for them, and Nicky said, “What makes you think I want to cohabitate with you after all the shit you put me through?” and Jerome said, “It's mutual.” Kimba said, “Nicky never put you through any shit,” and Jerome said, “Kimba, you don't know. He plays with my heart like it's a toy mouse.” Of course, that was a lie too, but it made Nicky smile, thinking that maybe he had some power in this relationship after all.

After we ate some appetizers and were midway through our third drinks, Kimba leaned across the table and said to me, “You look radiant tonight. Why don't you ever wear that shirt?”

“I was saving it for a special occasion,” I said. Kimba had this look on her face, and even though I knew it was from the whiskey it was delightful. It made me feel good. It occurred to me later that I didn't think about Terri once the whole night. We were having too much fun. Jerome got into a conversation with the straight couple next to us, and we all ended up laughing hysterically about the absurdity of human body parts, like fingers and toes, and then we got into how funny noses were. We were even laughing too loud for the rest of the people in the bar, who were looking at us askance. It reminded me of my family in a restaurant, being noisier than everyone else.

When midnight approached, we stood up with our champagne glasses except Jerome, who sat at the table like the family patriarch, drinking his club soda and lime. When the ball went down, the straight couple kissed and Nicky kissed Jerome and Kimba kissed me and it wasn't a “friend”
kiss. Then I kissed Nicky and Kimba kissed Nicky and I kissed Jerome on the cheek and he sat there looking very pleased with himself, after having accomplished his mission of winning us over. We capped off the ceremony with Nicky and me hugging the straight couple.

Nicky and Jerome went off into the flying snow and Kimba and I walked home, holding hands. Usually I sleep in her guest room, but she invited me into her room. Once we were in bed we started kissing, and laughing, and kissing, and laughing. I pulled up her silky white undershirt and licked her one nipple, and then we rolled around and kissed some more. Then we started talking about those two irritating women at the Adams-Morgan bar, and Kimba made this face, imitating the gray-haired woman, that totally cracks me up. I started singing, “If I Were A Rich Man,” because her favorite movie is
Fiddler on the Roof
, and she joined in, and I taught her the Yiddish word “klepkeh,” an angry thought that gets stuck in your head. She said, “Is Lucille a klepkeh?” referring to her boss, and I said, “No, no. A person can't be a klepkeh.” But that cracked me up too. We didn't go all the way, but that was fine. We fell asleep with my arm curled around her.

In the morning Kimba made us a big fluffy-egg-and-bacon breakfast, with coffee for me and tea for her. I didn't have a hangover, and I wondered why. I always feel pain after a night of heavy drinking. The only time I didn't was after spending a night with Terri. That makes me think maybe I'm falling for Kimba, but I can't be, because I don't feel at all about Kimba the way I felt about Terri. It's just that she's my first really close, intimate friend
since I came out, so it's kind of like she's been with me since I was born. I have the kind of love for her that you have for a girlhood friend. When she called me yesterday and said how much fun she had, I kind of melted. I can't explain it.

Everything is a big mess now. Terri called about an hour ago and everything I have accomplished over the past three months is in tatters. She called to inform me that things are not working out between her and Dee. She said Dee is superficial and boring.

“I didn't get the impression that Dee was superficial and boring,” I said. “I thought she was charming and intelligent.” I couldn't believe how disgusting Terri was, trashing someone's entire personality just out of spite, and at the same time I was ecstatic that Terri was getting rid of Dee. In fact, as soon as I heard her voice—“Knadel?”—I almost swooned. I couldn't help it. I think the woman's done something unalterable to me.

“She has some minor redeeming qualities,” Terri said.

“Like what?”

“To tell the truth, I can't think of any at the moment,” Terri said. “They're inconsequential.”

“I suppose you think Dee Williams is completely devoid of any positive qualities because you behaved like a selfish bitch with her and she got sick of it,” I said.

“That is unfair,” Terri said, sounding amused. She loves it when I tell her off.

“Well, are you done with her or what?” I said.

“We're going to have a talk on Friday. But as of now we're not seeing each other.” She told me that last weekend the two of them went to a resort in the Shenandoah Valley and it did not go well. Every time Terri travels with a woman, it doesn't go well. She has to do everything her way, and if the other person wants to do something else, she becomes furious.

“What happened?” I asked.

“She was two hours late, and you know I hate to be late,” Terri said. “On Saturday, she wanted to go on a hike through the mountains when it was 10°. I told her to go ahead, but she wouldn't. She just stayed in the room and sulked. And then I wanted to have the five-course meal at the resort and she wanted to drag me to a barbecue shack out in the boondocks that her relatives told her about.”

I had to concede that a barbecue shack was not the best choice for a vegetarian. “What did she expect you to eat at this barbecue shack?” I asked.

“I don't know, Knadel.”

“Well, it's strange that she would want to drag you to some barbecue shack that had no vegetarian food,” I said, suspecting there was more to the story. “But I can't blame her for not wanting to go on some hike through the mountains all by herself.”

“It was 10°, honey,” Terri said.

I started to get irritated with the whole conversation. Why am I discussing Terri's relationship with her, I
thought. This has nothing to do with me. But I couldn't stop. “I suppose you refused to have sex with her, after she did all the wrong things,” I said.

“True,” Terri said. “I didn't feel like it.”

I had lifted off into this ridiculous euphoric state and was tumbling through the air like a stunt plane with Buddy Hackett at the controls, like in the movie
It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World
. I needed to get a grip. I needed to get off the phone and call Dr. Bobb, or Kimba, or Bette, or my mom, or someone who could ground me.

“Well, if Dee Williams is such a loser, then just tell her on Friday that you're done,” I said.

“I think that's where it's going,” Terri said.

“All right, Bumble Bee,” I said. “Let me know what happens.” Immediately I screamed at myself, “Why are you call-ing her an endearment, Joanna? What's the matter with you?”

As soon as I hung up, the phone rang and it was Kimba. I told her what had just happened and she said, “What are you going to do when they break up?”

“What do you mean?” I said. “Do you think they will?”

“Of course they will.”

“Well, what do you mean, what am I going to do?”

“How do you feel about Terri and Dee breaking up?”

“Well, I'm not exactly heartbroken. I mean. You know.”

“Well, then,” Kimba said. “You just have to bide your time.”

“Oh fuck her,” I said. “She's dead meat. I'm done with her.”

“No, you're not,” Kimba said in a tiny little voice. “You're not done with her at all.” I heard her cell phone ring and she said, “Gotta go,” and hung up.

I called Dr. Bobb. “Come in right now,” he said. “I am not talking about leaving in five minutes. I am talking about hanging up the phone, picking up your keys, walking out the door, and driving to my office. I will expect you here in fifteen minutes.”

That was a half hour ago, but instead of immediately going to Dr. Bobb's office I decided to write this. I need to process Terri's call so I can contend with Dr. Bobb, who will try to impose some mandate on me. But writing this isn't doing any good because I still feel like that crazy Buddy Hackett in the stunt plane, and I'm worried that Kimba is angry at me, and goddammit, there's the phone. I'm sure it's him. I'd better go see him before he sends one of those psychiatric ambulances out here to fetch me. It will ruin my whole reputation around here.

Dr. Bobb was waiting for me with a toy top, one of those things you spin around and around and it floats into the air and then settles back down into the base. When I walked in, I saw the top float up and hover, and Dr. Bobb looked at me and smiled. “Come on in!” he said, standing up. “How do you like my toy?”

“It's cool,” I said. “I haven't seen one of those things since I was a kid.”

“That's how long I've had it,” he said.

“Does it have some significance?” I said. The hovering top seemed suspiciously metaphoric.

“Everything has significance,” Dr. Bobb smiled. “Would you like to try?”

I spun the top in its base and it flew up and actually hit the ceiling. Dr. Bobb cracked up. He leaned back in his leather chair and laughed until tears came. “I've seen you hit the ceiling before, Joanna, but not quite like that,” he said between gasps of laughter. “The man is crazy,” I thought. I sat down on his love seat. “Let's try again,” Dr. Bobb said, and started playing around with the top again.

“What's
wrong
with you?” I said. “Why are you playing
around with that top? I'm losing my marbles here and you're playing with a top.”

“We're waiting for someone,” Dr. Bobb said.

“Who?” I said. “I don't want to see anyone. It's not Terri, is it? Did you call Terri?” I leapt halfway out of the sofa.

“Relax,” Dr. Bobb said. “I don't even know Terri's number.”

“Well, who is it, then?”

Dr. Bobb picked up the base of his top and examined it. “Hmm,” he said. “Interesting aerodynamics.”

I heard the elevator open, and two seconds later in walked Nicky. “I got here as soon as I could, Dr. Bobb,” he said, with this “emergency response” look on his face.

“Oh, for God's sake,” I said. “What is
wrong
with you two?”

“Nothing is wrong, Joanna,” Dr. Bobb said. He and Nicky hugged. “How have you been?” Dr. Bobb asked, his eyes gleaming.

“Uh,” Nicky waved. “You don't want to know.”

“Yes, you don't want to know,” I said. “The person you have summoned to restore my sanity has fallen in love with a sociopath who cheats on him with a different man every day, extorts money from him, and thinks safe sex is a quaint notion invented by silly alarmists.”

Nicky fell into the love seat next to me. “She's right,” he said.

“Nicky!” Dr. Bobb said. “This is true?”

“It's true, Dr. Bobb,” Nicky moaned. “But the man is a sexual Svengali. I am helpless in his spell.”