'A lot of American surrogates are military wives,' Tres said, 'having other women's babies to make ends meet while their husbands are in Iraq. I figure we could do our share for the war effort.' To Natalie: 'I vote American.'
'I vote for her,' Andy said.
He nodded at a coed walking toward them. She was blonde and spilling out of her bikini in a good way. She jiggled past them and over to her spot on the bank where she sat and removed her bikini top. Topless sunbathing was legal at Barton Springs. For full nudity, you had to go out to Hippie Hollow on Lake Travis, a bit of a drive, so most coeds opted for topless at the springs.
'Only problem with her,' Tres said, 'is I'd have to manually fertilize the egg.'
Any perceived threat to Tres' trust fund got Natalie's immediate attention. She lowered her sunglasses and gave the blonde one of those brief but thorough head-to-foot once-overs that competitive females mastered by ninth grade. Natalie Riggs could now describe in detail every flaw on the blonde's body.
' Puh-leeze. You or my baby inside her? I don't think so.'
'Maybe I should conduct a pre-surrogacy exam first,' Andy said, 'check out her reproductive system personally.'
'In your dreams,' Tres said.
'Like there's anywhere else?'
'The standard surrogacy contract,' Natalie said, 'requires the surrogate to stop having sex for the entire gestation period. I doubt she could stop for an afternoon.'
'That's what gives me hope.'
'Andy,' Natalie said, 'her hair is bleached, she could stand to lose some weight, and in case you didn't notice, those are implants.'
'What's your point?'
'My God, Andy, she's drinking a supersized soda. That's three hundred forty calories. She'll be a size ten in two years.'
'Two years? Natalie, my relationships usually last two hours.'
Natalie sighed in resignation.
'Then go over and ask her out.'
Andy sat up. He considered doing just that. But she wasn't alone. Rejection would be a painful public humiliation. A train whistle sounded in the distance; the park's miniature train was about to leave the station. Andy lay back down.
'And get shot down in public? I have my reputation to consider.'
Tres laughed. 'What reputation?'
'Andy,' Natalie said, 'you've got to date to have sex… well, maybe not with her, but with classy girls you do, like the kind you meet at Pangaea.'
'That's the place with the safari theme? Girls dressed like Tarzan's mate dancing on the tables? Natalie, I can't get past the velvet rope at places like that.'
The beautiful people of Austin now frequented the trendy new lounges springing up in the warehouse district a few blocks west of downtown. Andy was not and so did not.
'A guy from New York opened Pangaea,' she said. 'They've got tribal spears and shields on the walls, and the ceiling is draped like a tent. It's fabulous.'
'It's expensive,' Tres said.
Natalie rolled lusciously toward Tres and gave him a little kiss.
'But I'm worth it.'
Andy tried not to admire her body in motion, but he couldn't resist. But then, she and Tres weren't married yet, so it wasn't as if he were committing a Ninth Commandment violation.
She rolled back and said, 'So when was your last date?'
'Last year.'
Natalie sat up, squirted a line of suntan oil onto her right thigh, and rubbed it in with long smooth strokes.
'When last year?'
'April.'
'April of last year? Andy, it's August of this year.'
'I'm working on it.'
'Anyone answer your ad?' Tres said.
Natalie now rubbed oil on her left thigh.
'What ad?'
'Andy put an ad in Lovers Lane.'
Lovers Lane was the online dating venue of the Austin Chronicle, the weekly alternative newspaper in town.
'Any responses?'
'Nope. Every 'woman seeking man' wants a guy who's smart, rich, and looks like Matthew McConaughey. They don't want regular guys.'
McConaughey was Austin's resident movie star.
'Which is why they're alone and putting personal ads in the Chronicle,' Tres said.
'Which is why they're not going to answer my ad-I'm not smart or rich and I don't look like McConaughey.'
'Andy,' Natalie said, 'don't sell yourself short. You're sort of smart.'
That amused Tres almost as much as the old lady's 'Does it relieve constipation?'
'I'm a regular Joe looking for a regular Joan.'
'So lie,' Tres said. 'Everyone in those ads lies.'
'But that defeats the whole purpose of personal ads: you can be honest.'
'Andy, no one's honest. I know. I work for the IRS.'
Tres had hired on with the Internal Revenue Service after law school at the University of Texas; he had been a B student, so the best he could do was a government job. But he hoped to parlay his inside knowledge into a big firm job in a few years. He didn't need the money-there was the trust fund-but he needed a station in life.
Andy said, 'I'm honest.'
Tres: 'And poor.'
Natalie: 'With no girlfriend.'
Andy: 'Which requires money.'
Tres shook his head. 'It's a vicious cycle.'
Natalie gave Andy her 'wise mother' look, which told him she was about to offer more unsolicited personal advice. The fact that she was two years older than Andy apparently gave her standing.
'Andy, classy girls don't want slackers.'
She graciously omitted the implied 'like you.'
'They want guys with ambition,' she said. 'Like Arthur.'
'He has a trust fund.'
'Or that. They want someone who can give them the life-the house on the lake, the cars, the country club, the nightlife, the wardrobe, the accessories. Someone with money, or at least the ambition to make money.'
She squirted oil onto her upper chest and smoothed it over the exposed portion of her beautiful breasts.
'Andy, if you want a girlfriend, you need ambition.'
Andy turned away from Natalie's oily body and said, 'I need a beer.'
TWO
La cerveza mas fina.
Andy drained the Corona longneck and waved the bottle in the air until he caught their waitress' attention at
