It can’t be, I thought. I watched it ring three times, then I picked it up and said hello.
“I knew you’d be there,” she said.
“You’re getting pretty smart in your old age.”
“It’s what I’d‘ve done not so long ago. When you buy your first big piece, you can’t wait to see how it looks in its new home. Even if it’s midnight.”
“For the record, it looks great.”
“You’re allowed an hour to gloat. After that, it’s unbecom-ing.”
There was a long pause, what I was starting to think of as a Ritalike white space. Then she said, “I called to tell you something but I don’t know how.”
“We could play twenty questions. Is it animal, vegetable, or mineral?”
“Animal,” she said. Her voice sounded thick, lusty.
“I kind of thought it would be.”
Another pause. I didn’t know what to do but fill it with more comic relief.
“Does it walk on two legs, four, or slide on its belly like a reptile?”
“This is difficult,” she said. “I know you think I’ve been manipulating you, but I haven’t. I’m just not very consistent sometimes.”
“Hey, if I want consistency I’ll buy a robot. So you give off mixed signals. That’s all part of the human comedy.”
“You’re angry.”
“Just confused, Miss McKinley. First you tell me, in barely couched terms, to break a leg and go blind. Then you call and invite me up. You fix me a dinner but act like I’m the butcher of Auschwitz when I ask you for a date. You’d already read that newspaper, you knew full well that I stomp puppies to death for a hobby, but do I worry? Nah! I’m just glad I got to see your books.”
There was white space, of course: a ten-second pause. I thought of whistling
“You are one strange bird, Janeway,” she said.
“I’m fascinating as hell, though, you’ve got to admit that.”
“Yes,” she said, and I felt that buildup in my throat again, and I hoped I’d be able to get through this conversation without croaking like Henry Aldrich.
“I have a dark secret,” she said. “If I tell you what it is, will you promise not to try to see me again?”
“I never bet on a blind. Only fools and bad poker players do that.”
“I guess I’ll tell you anyway. I don’t want you going away thinking I’ve been playing with you.”
“What difference does it make, if I’m going away?”
“I told you before, don’t be so goddamned analytical. Take a few things on faith.”
“You haven’t said anything yet.”
“It’s very simple. I hate violence, but all my life I’ve been attracted to violent men.”
“That’s very interesting,” I said, struggling past a pear-sized obstruction in my throat.
“So the reason I didn’t want you to come up here today is the same reason I finally did ask you up. The same reason I didn’t cancel when I read the paper. The same reason I wouldn’t go out with you. Does that make any sense?”
“No, but keep going. I like the sound of it.”
“You wear your violence on your sleeve. It goes where you go. You carry it around like other men carry briefcases. It’s like a third person in the room. I can’t help being appalled by that.”
I listened to her breathe. My pear had grown into a grapefruit.
“And yet, I’m always a sucker for a man who can make me believe he’ll do anything, if the stakes are big enough.”
I gave a wicked laugh.
Gotcha, I thought.
“I don’t want to see you again,” she said. “I just wanted you to know why.”
“I’ve got a hunch we’ll see each other.”
“I’m engaged, Mr. Janeway. I’m getting married next month.”
“Then it’s a good thing I came along when I did.”
“Good-bye,” she said, and hung up.
