Fake I.D.

“I’m calling in sick,” I said.

“Really? Well, that’s convenient—and timely too. Because I’m feeling kind of lonely and I was hoping I could come over to visit.”

“What’s that?”

“I said I want to come over to your place.”

“Here?”

“Why not? You’re not trying to avoid me, are you?”

I was starting to fall asleep again.

“Look, I really gotta hang up now.”

“I’m coming over—I just got your address from Information.”

“Don’t come here,” I said, waking up. “I’m serious.”

“Why? You’re too tired? It’s all right—I’ll take a nap with you.”

“Wait,” I said. I remembered that Frank had hired a detective.

“Don’t come here,” I said. “That’s a shitty idea.”

“Don’t you want to see me again?” she said, trying to sound sexy.

“It’s just not a good time right now,” I said. “Trust me, all right?”

“I really want to see you again, Tommy. I don’t know what I did to upset you so much, but I promise I won’t do it again.”

“Maybe some other time,” I said. “I’m really not feeling too good right now.”

“Poor thing,” she said. “Are you sick? Should I bring you over some chicken soup?”

“No, the thing is there’s a detective watching you,” I said. “Frank told me about it the other day—”

“Oh, that’s why you’re so worried. You don’t have to worry about that, darling. That slob was following me around all day yesterday and I had no problem losing him. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll be right there.”

“Come on, Debbie, don’t—”

She hung up. I said “hello” a couple of times then I put the receiver down, still feeling dazed. I closed my eyes, trying to go back to Hollywood Park, but I must’ve fallen asleep without dreaming because it seemed like a second later the buzzer was ringing. I got up to answer it, forgetting where I was. Then I heard Debbie’s voice on the intercom. Now I was really getting pissed off. Why the hell couldn’t she take no for an answer?

I buzzed her up, hoping the detective didn’t follow her. No matter what, I was going to tell her to get the hell away from me and to stay away.

She was wearing a fur coat and black boots. Her fake blond hair was done up like Ivana Trump and she had a load of makeup on. She looked better than she did the other day at her apartment, but she still disgusted me.

I noticed she was holding a white plastic shopping bag.

“It was quite a climb to get up here,” she said. “I can’t believe people actually live in these buildings.”

She moved in to kiss me with her glossy lips and I was too tired to turn my head. I picked up the Scotch odor right away. Then she backed away, making a face like she just stepped into a big pile of dog shit.

“What’s that smell?”

“Me,” I said.

“My God, you’re filthy...what happened to you?”

“I told you, I was in Vegas.”

“Don’t they have showers in Las Vegas?”

“Why did you have to come over here?” I said. “Why couldn’t you listen to me?”

“Because I was lonely and I wanted to see you. Aren’t you happy to see me?”

“This was really stupid,” I said. “If that detective—”

“You don’t have to worry about him,” she said. “I saw that slob following me again when I left my building. I found a police officer on the corner and told him that a man was following me, then I got in a cab and came over here. Oh, but first I stopped at a Chinese restaurant and bought you a couple of containers of hot-and-sour soup. It always does wonders for me when I feel a cold coming on.”

“How do you know he didn’t follow you out of the restaurant?” I said. “Maybe you just didn’t see him.”

“My God, will you stop being so paranoid? The way you’re talking you’d think you did have something to hide.”

She passed by me and went toward the kitchen counter. I closed the door and bolted it.

“I hate to be so blunt,” she said, “but you really could use a shower and a maid.”

“If you don’t like the way I smell, there’s the door.”

She thought about it a second then said, “No, actually I’m starting to like the way you smell. You smell raw. It kind of turns me on.” She put the shopping bag down on the counter. “Now I have a surprise for you so close your eyes.”

I just stood there.

“You’re no fun. Come on, play the game.”

I crossed my arms in front of my chest.

“All right, but it won’t be nearly as shocking.”

She opened her coat and, except for her shiny black boots, she was buck naked.

“Get out of here,” I said. I was looking away, trying not to see any more. “I’m serious.”

“Well, that wasn’t exactly the response I was expecting.”

She came up to me and put her arms around my waist, rubbing against me, then she kissed me on the lips. I pushed her away.

“Just put your coat on and get out of here.”

She took a few steps back. She was shaking a little bit too, maybe because she was so drunk.

“I only came here because I thought you wanted to see me,” she said. “Because I thought we—”

“Look, whatever happened the other day, let’s just forget about it, all right?”

“What’s the matter, you didn’t have a good time?”

“No.”

“I don’t think this is any way for you to treat your future wife.”

“Excuse me? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Frank wants a divorce. He wanted to make an out-of-court settlement with me. At first, I was thinking about trying to milk him for all he was worth, but now I’m thinking about just accepting it. He said something about how he wants to move to Arizona, open a bar there. If I accept the settlement I’ll get the apartment and enough money to live on comfortably, or for us to live on comfortably.”

“How the hell did you get the idea I’d want to marry you?” I said.

“Why wouldn’t you? Not only would you be getting a woman who’d pleasure you like no woman could, but with Frank’s money you’d never have to work again.”

I started to laugh. I couldn’t help it—it was just so damn funny.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Believe me,” I said, “if you were me, you’d be laughing too.”

“I really don’t think you should be treating me this way. I might leave here very angry at you and then there’s no telling what I might do. Maybe I’ll just tell everybody about your dirty little secret.”

“What do you mean?”

I wasn’t laughing anymore.

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said.

“I saw you the other night—stealing that money.”

I stared at her, trying to figure out if she was lying.

“I think you’re drunk and you should go home,” I said.

“I was on my way to the bar to look for Frank and I saw you,” she said, “walking home with that garbage bag. I was wondering why you were taking garbage home from work with you, but the next day it all made sense.”