Fake I.D.

“That’s what I’m gonna do. I’ve thought about it before, but now I know, I really know I need it. I’m gonna go to Gamblers Anonymous—quit once and for all. Please, Janene. I don’t know why I did it. I mean I liked you—I thought we had something special going. Then, as usual, I fucked everything up. But please, I’m begging you, please don’t tell my boss any of this. I can’t afford to lose my job. I’m begging you.”

She was looking at me like I was her kid that she’d just spanked, and now she felt bad about it.

“How could you steal from me?” she said. “How could you do something like that to me, Tommy?”

“I was out of control—what can I say? But I have some good news—I won at the track with your money and I can pay you back for everything. If you come to my apartment I’ll give you the money right now. Just tell me how much you think that jewelry was worth and—”

“The money doesn’t matter,” she said. “It was the sentimental value.”

“Jesus, you don’t know how sorry I am about all this,” I said. “Just tell me the amount—any amount and I’ll give you the money. Please—it’s important that I do this.”

“I have no idea what it was worth.”

“Give me a ballpark figure.”

“I don’t know—maybe a few hundred dollars.”

“No problem,” I said. “I’ll give you the money right now—three hundred for the jewelry and the hundred I owe you—but you have to promise not to talk to my boss or the police.”

“Do you have the money with you?”

“Wait one second,” I said.

I went back into the bar and asked Frank if he could cover for me for about fifteen minutes, a half hour tops. He said it was no problem and I came back out wearing my leather coat.

“Where are we going?” Janene asked.

“To give you your money.”

“I thought you had it with you.”

“No, it’s in my apartment.”

“I don’t want to go to your apartment.”

“Why not?”

“Why don’t you just send me the money?”

“Put cash in the mail? Come on, it’ll take two minutes. I really want to make up for what I did to you.”

She looked away, trying to make up her mind, then she looked back at me and said, “All right, let’s go.”

It was weird walking next to her. She had her arms crossed in front of her chest and she didn’t say a word. I didn’t say anything either. I was pissed at her for threatening to call the cops. After what Rodrigo pulled in the kitchen, I was getting sick of people trying to blackmail me.

We turned on to Sixty-fourth Street. When we got to my building, I headed up the stoop, but Janene stopped on the sidewalk.

“You coming up?”

“No,” she said, “I think I’ll just wait out here.”

“Come on, it’s freezing out.”

“It’s okay,” she said.

“What? You don’t trust me?”

“I just feel like waiting down here on the street.”

There was a group of teenagers across the street, smoking cigarettes and laughing.

“Whatever,” I said.

I went upstairs and came back down with the four hundred dollars. She put the money away in her coat pocket.

“I really hope you quit gambling,” she said, “for your own sake.”

I watched her walk away toward York Avenue, hoping she was out of my life for good.

Twelve

Walking home after work, I didn’t feel like being alone. Remembering how Susan Lepidus had asked me to call her sometime, I stopped at the nearest phone booth. The phone rang four times and then her answering machine picked up. I was about to hang up when she said, “Wait—hold on,” then she turned off the machine and, sounding tired, said, “Hello.”

I realized that one-thirty was probably kind of late to call somebody.

“Hey, Susan,” I said, “it’s Tommy. You know, from O’Reilley’s.”

She didn’t say anything for a few seconds then she said, “Oh, hi, how are you?”

“Hope I didn’t wake you,” I said.

“No...I mean I was just getting into bed...what time is it?”

“About one-thirty,” I said. “I just got off work. I know it’s late to be calling, but I want you to know it was really nice seeing you again the other night. I’ve been thinking about you a lot since then.”

“That’s sweet. It was nice seeing you again too.”

“I know this is short notice, but I figured I’d be spontaneous. You want to go out for a late drink?”

“Now?”

“Why not? There are a few places still open.”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I mean I have to go to work tomorrow.”

“That’s right,” I said. “I always forget how normal people work in the morning.”

She laughed.

“Maybe we could go out some other time,” I said. “Unless...nah, that’s a stupid idea.”

“What is?”

“I was thinking, I could come by your place, if you want. Just to say hi, have a quick drink and leave.”

“I don’t know,” she said.

“Forget about it then,” I said. “I told you it was a stupid idea. I’ll call you some other time. I’m off on Tuesdays. Maybe tomorrow night we can do something.”

“I have plans tomorrow.”

“Some other time then.”

“Wait,” she said. “I guess you could come over now.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah...why not? Do you remember where I live?”

“I sure do,” I said. “Should I bring over some beer?”

“That’s all right, I have some in the fridge.”

“See you in a few.”

I started to walk, but my feet were cold in my motorcycle boots, so I jogged up First Avenue with the stiff wind in my face. Susan lived on Eighty-third Street between Third and Lex. It was about twenty blocks from the phone booth, but it only took me about ten minutes to get there.

I’d walked Susan home that night after we went out dancing, but I’d never been up to her apartment. It was a doorman building, but not nearly as nice as Frank’s. The doorman buzzed her and I took the elevator up.

Susan looked good, especially for two in the morning. She was wearing jeans and a long black T-shirt and she’d put on makeup—lipstick and blush.

After I kissed her hello on the cheek, she invited me into the apartment. It was a small place—bigger than my dump, but so was just about every other apartment in the city. It had an L-shape with a little kitchen and a living room in the big part, and the bedroom area was off to the right. A U2 poster was hanging on the wall above the couch.

She took my coat and put it on the back of a chair.

“Why don’t you sit down?” she said.

She pointed toward a seat at the kitchen table.