He concentrated on his cigar and scotch and felt oddly satisfied. He was getting somewhere, even if he wasn't sure where.
It had to be soon. A person could wait only so long, could only fight off such a compulsion so long. Not to give in to it was to be devoured by it. He'd never dreamed it could be like this, that the need could come on so suddenly and be so powerful.
The bothersome thing was that the times, the women, were coming closer together and without predictable intervals. Predictable intervals made it easier to plan. To be in control.
Control was what it was all about. Control bestowed by destiny. Once begun, if it was meant to happen, it would.
Not to give in to it was to be devoured by it.
Joyce House had been the best. She'd struggled with her fate enough to make it interesting, to satisfy the need, but not so much as to make things truly difficult and perhaps more dangerous.
The change in her eyes hadn't occurred too soon, and when it came it was complete. She was already dead and knew it. All that was necessary then was the acting out, and she readily gave herself up to that. She was ready to end it, to end herself, to end the future, past, and present, and to begin the forever.
Perhaps because Joyce had been so satisfying, the need was back sooner than anticipated. Not a demon fully formed, but forming.
Joyce's image played on the screen of the mind, her eyes when she saw the knife and understood the inevitability of the blade, when she felt the caressing point of the blade, the course of the blade.
The blade.
Her eyes.
Her eyes.
It had to be soon.
44
They'd had dinner and red wine at Orzo's, near Pearl's apartment. She'd had the four-cheese ravioli special, and Yancy the lamb and new potatoes. Before leaving the restaurant, Yancy had gone to the bar and bought a second bottle of merlot. He carried it in a plain brown paper bag as they walked toward Pearl's apartment.
Pearl let Yancy set the pace, which was moderate. It was a calm, cool evening, with a light fog that had settled in while they were inside the restaurant. The glow of streetlights was starred, and there was a halo around the service lights of cabs. Pearl thought it would make a nice illustration for a don't-you-wish-you-were-in-New York card.
When they came to an intersection and stopped walking to wait for a traffic signal, Yancy shifted the paper bag to his other hand, as if it was heavy.
'There gonna be a celebration?' Pearl asked, nodding toward the bag.
Yancy grinned down at her. 'Could be. I've got a surprise for you.'
The signal changed, and they crossed the street.
'I'm glad you didn't ask what,' Yancy said.
'I don't believe in pointless questions,' Pearl said.
'I'll ask most any kind. Is your mother getting any more used to the idea of me?'
'She doesn't get used to ideas. She's still dismayed that I'd take up with a scoundrel like you, and frankly so am I. But we don't always have a choice in these matters.'
'Good thing for scoundrels like me.' They were silent for a few paces. 'Did she really call me that-a scoundrel?'
'I don't think so,' Pearl said. 'It might have been wastrel.'
'Ah. Better.'
'You are a lobbyist,' Pearl said.
'For green power.'
'Does it really matter to you what kind of power you represent?'
'Actually, not in the slightest. I'm a hired advocate. I believe everyone should have the chance to have his or her case made. Every organization or special interest group. I do that professionally. Like a lawyer.'
'There are a lot of lawyer jokes.'
'Lots of cop jokes, too.'
'Ouch.'
Half a block of silence followed. It was a silence heavy with expectation. Pearl realized the palms of her hands were sweating. Something about that damned Yancy. Maybe her mother had a point.
They were almost to Pearl's apartment.
Yancy said, 'A good dinner, some wine…I thought it would lighten the mood.'
'The mood is light,' Pearl said.
'Doesn't feel like it.'
Pearl stopped walking and moved around in front of Yancy. She kissed him on the lips, used her tongue, felt his hand close tightly on the nape of her neck.
She drew back, smiling up at him.
'There's the mood,' she said.
He bent and kissed her on the forehead. 'Perfect.'
They held hands the rest of the way.
As soon as they entered the apartment, Pearl kicked off her shoes.
Yancy stooped and placed the bag with the bottle of wine on the floor and then pulled her to him, and they kissed as they had out on the sidewalk. He worked the zipper in the back of her dress as smoothly as if he'd practiced it hundreds of times.
With a faint rustling sound, the dress slid down, and she lowered her arms so it would fall all the way and puddle at her feet. He hugged her to him again, and his right hand slid beneath her panties and over the smooth contours of her hips and buttocks. His left hand was at her back. Her bra strap came undone, and the bra slid down and almost off her breasts.
Jesus! Does he have three hands?
The bra slipped all the way off seemingly of its own volition, so its straps were at the crooks of her elbows, and he bent his body and kissed both her nipples. He stepped back, smiling at her, and she lowered her arms so the bra dropped to the floor with the dress.
Yancy left her panties on-for now. Before she knew it, he'd picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. She heard the soft crinkling sound of paper and realized that somehow he'd managed to pick up the bag containing the wine bottle.
After laying her gently on the bed, he removed the bottle from its bag. She saw that it had already been uncorked to the point where the stopper would slide from the neck with minimal effort. Two plastic wineglasses from the restaurant were also in the bag.
'For later,' he said, arranging the bottle and glasses on the nightstand.
'Let's think about later…later,' Pearl said.
For a brief moment she wondered again if her mother might be right.
Then she forgot all about her mother.
Afterward Pearl lay on her back, gazing sideways across her pillow at Yancy. He was still breathing hard from the exertion of their lovemaking, staring up at the ceiling as if in deep thought.
'We've reached later,' Pearl said.
He looked over at her and smiled. Then he sat up and swiveled on the mattress so he could reach the wine bottle and glasses. He poured one glass, for her. She sat up and scooted so her back was against her wadded pillow
