she came out, turning off the bathroom light.
'I took a Seconal. I've got to get that scene out of my mind and sleep.' She turned off the lamp and got in bed.
'You'll wait, though, huh, till after?'
'Don't worry, I'm up for it if you are.' She reached over and grabbed him and said, 'Yes, you are,' and away they went, kissing and touching, making adjustments and finally getting into a slow groove, Terry looking at Africa, misty hillsides and tea plantations, houses of red adobe, bats swooping out of the eucalyptus trees to help him stay in the groove and not become frantic; but as he looked at Ah-fri-ca and the sky at dusk, a thought came to him, a question:
If he tore up the check, why is he making sure you go back?
She said, 'What's wrong?'
'Nothing. No, we're fine.'
And they were. They made love and finished. Debbie reached for a Kleenex and fell asleep while Terry stared at the ceiling in the dark.
Why doesn't he want you around?
You can't hurt him. You're not gonna tell on him, say the photo's a fake. No-he's doing it for her. Getting you out of her way, not his.
It wasn't even his money. Something to make grand gestures with.
Tear up the check and write another one to wave in front of little Debbie. He reached over to get his drink, finished it and looked at Debbie asleep, breathing, her cute nose letting little Debbie snores slip out now and again. The guy tore it up in front of her. She said she should've known. She said he wasn't a show-off. But what was tearing up the check if it wasn't putting on a show? Part of the show. Why else go to all that trouble? He likes her and wants to impress her and makes her an offer, like the one in the movie, and she accepts it, it's only for her and she doesn't want to face you, she'll go to bed and hide. You want me to stay? If you want to. What else can she say, she has a headache? She thought you'd call first. Annoyed. She thought at least you'd call first. She didn't want to talk about it, but then wanting him to believe she's being open and honest said more than she had to.
But she didn't ask about your leaving.
They'd talked about it before going in to see Tony, told her they were making sure he went back, but now it wasn't on her mind. Or if it was she wasn't bringing it up; it would happen and he would never know what she got from Tony.
She was wearing a kimono he had never seen before and it made her look different. Or she was different and it had nothing to do with the pink kimono with a deep-red border. He didn't believe she was in the bathroom when he buzzed. He didn't believe it because she told him she was in the bathroom. Picture it. She hears a buzzer she doesn't expect. Then another buzz. She decides to wait it out. But then hears him call her name and looks out-a mistake, but too late, she knows you saw her and if you're coming up she wants to get whatever Tony gave her out of sight, if it isn't already. He buzzes again and has to wait before she lets him in. She's putting it somewhere, whatever it is. I thought you'd at least call first-not sounding happy to see him, not sounding much like his love, his little schemer, his ex-con con-artist girlfriend of what, five days?
Ain't love grand-She goes to sleep because she wants it to be over, behind her, what she's doing to you. She does like you. He believed that. But does she like you enough to trust you?
She said she was in the bathroom when he buzzed.
Maybe she went in after he buzzed.
She went in the bathroom for a Seconal and turned the light off when she came out. The first night he was here she left it on, so they could see each other while they made love.
He stared at the ceiling.
Did she hide it?
Or does she trust you, Fr. Dunn, to remain innocent and believe her?
Where does she hide things?
Didn't she tell you one time…?
He stared at the ceiling.
He listened to her peaceful breathing.
He slipped out of bed…
Debbie woke up a little dopey but knew enough to turn her head on the pillow, see if he was still there. Nope. She sat up before looking the other way, at the clock: 9:25. She wanted to brush her teeth, yuk, get the sticky taste out of her mouth, but decided to make the call first. She expected Mary Pat to answer and she did.
'Hi, it's Debbie. Did Terry get off all right?'
'He was picked up, if that's what you mean. There were two of them.'
'They're reliable,' Debbie said. 'I mean there's nothing to worry about, really.' She said, 'I don't know how much he told you…' and paused to see if Mary Pat would tell her.
Mary Pat said, 'Well, Terry didn't seem worried, so I don't think I will.'
Debbie said, 'Oh.' And said, 'Okay then. Nice talking to you, Mary Pat.'
She tried to imagine Terry's frame of mind as she walked in the bathroom to brush her teeth, walked in and saw fresh rolls of toilet paper, nine of them, stacked on her makeup counter, the plastic bag they came in lying on the floor. The sight came as a shock and postponed brushing her teeth for several more minutes.
It meant he didn't believe her. Her buddy, her partner, didn't fucking believe her. He looked for it but couldn't possibly know what he was looking for. He looked here because, shit, she must've told him about Randy snooping in her bathroom.
But she didn't hide it here. She didn't hide it anywhere. She had thought about it in a panic between door buzzes and thought, Wait.
Why? It's Terry. What reason would he have to snoop around?
No, she left it in her bag, in the kitchen. She went in there and that's where the bag was, on the counter, the check in a plain white envelope inside…
But it wasn't.
28
RIGHT AFTER THE TRIO FINISHED their set the piano player would say into the mike, 'And now, to tickle your funnybone and your fancy, here is that rising star of comedy, Detroit's own Debbie Dewey.'
It reminded Debbie of the bored voice on the PA system in M*A*S*H announcing the movie for that evening and what it was about. She said to the piano player after the first time he brought her on, 'Carlyle, I don't tickle funnybones.'
Carlyle said, 'I know you don't, girl. But this is the only game in town for us, you dig? The man, dumb as he is, tells me what to say, I say it.'
That fucking Randy. She said, 'Well, could you not sound so bored?'
'The man say keep it gentrified, meaning to him low-key. Meaning to us, you right, boring.'
The meeting that made it happen-Vito Genoa giving Randy the word-reminded Debbie of a sentencing hearing.
'Tony wants her to work your room three nights a week.'
Randy, in his manner, said, 'I don't run a comedy club. This is a four-star restaurant.'
Vito said, 'You pay her five gees a week, guaranteed ten weeks.
After that you can do what you want.'
'Pay her fifty thousand,' Randy said, 'on top of what I've already given her?'
'Five gees a week,' Vito said, 'you can write off. Also during the ten weeks you don't have to pay the commission on the ladies. Tony's giving you a break.'
Randy said, 'I'd love to know what she's giving him.'
Debbie spoke up. 'What if I don't want to perform?'
