pews.”
“Something like that. Maybe Jesus gets down off the cross and stalks the gal through the church.”
“Oh, sick.”
Pete laughed. “Hey, goes after her with a nail in each hand.”
“You guys.”
“That’s good,” Larry said. “Next morning, the preacher shows up and
“God’s gonna get you for that,” Barbara warned.
“More than likely.”
“I’d better put the steaks on,” Pete said. “Feed him quick before a lightning bolt comes down and knocks him out of his shoes.”
After dinner, Pete presented his surprise — a plastic bag containing three videotapes. “Thought we’d have a movie marathon, unless you’re in a big hurry to get home.”
With three vodka tonics under his belt, and the two beers he’d had with dinner, Larry knew he was in no condition to write, make corrections on his copyedited manuscript, or even read the Hutson novel.
Nor was he eager to be alone in his empty house.
“Sounds good to me,” he said. “Let’s see what you’ve got.” He inspected the tapes through their clear plastic boxes:
“Barb phoned me at the shop,” Pete explained. “So I picked these up on the way home.” He looked quite pleased with himself.
“Oh, this’ll be neat,” Larry said.
“These should put you in a great mood,” Barbara said, “for when it’s time to go home.”
“They freak you out, you can spend the night here.”
“I imagine I’ll be all right.”
They started with
When the movie ended, Pete made popcorn. Barbara disappeared for a few minutes. She came back wearing a knee-length blue robe. She filled glasses with Pepsi for everyone. Pete separated the popcorn into three bowls.
Before returning to her place on the sofa, Barbara turned off all the lights.
They munched popcorn, drank their sodas, and watched
Every now and then Larry glanced at Barbara. She was slumped against the back of the sofa, popcorn bowl on her lap, her legs stretched out, feet resting on the cushion she had earlier placed on the coffee table. When she twisted sideways to set her empty bowl on the lamp table, the robe slipped off her left leg. She wore a pink, diaphanous nightgown. It was shorter than the robe. It didn’t reach down much farther than her hip. With a quiet moan of annoyance, she flung the fallen section of the robe back on top of her thigh.
This is sure better than being home, Larry thought.
A few minutes later she took the cushion out from under her feet. She tilted it against the armrest, swiveled herself around and swung her legs onto the sofa. She lay down on her side, head propped on the cushion. “Let me know if I kick you,” she said.
“Maybe I should get out of your way.”
“No, that’s fine.”
Pete looked over. “Oh, here we go. For godsake, Barb, sit up. You won’t last five minutes.”
“I’m wide awake.”
“You won’t be. I’m warning you, I’m not gonna rewind. You drift off, it’s your hard luck.”
“I’m not going to drift off.”
“Famous last words,” Pete said. “Lar, you catch her dropping off, pinch her.”
“Don’t you dare.” She tucked the robe in between the backs of her legs as if to prevent Larry from reaching up inside it for the pinch.
It was the sort of thing that Jean might do.
The casual warning and precaution hinted at an intimacy that was both comforting and exciting.
Larry used the remote to rewind the few seconds of the movie that he’d missed while complaining to Barbara.
She lasted more than five minutes. But not more than ten. Larry realized she was asleep when her legs straightened and one of her bare feet pushed against the side of his thigh. Her touch made warmth flow through him.
He waited for a while, enjoying the sensation. But it made him feel guilty. “Pete,” he finally said. “She’s zonked.”
“Barrr-bra.”
She flinched, lifted her face off the cushion. “No, I’m fine.”
“You dosed off.”
“No, I didn’t. I’m fine.” Her head settled down again. Her eyes drifted shut.
“Forget it,” Pete said. “She can watch it in the morning if she wants to.”
“I’m watching,” she mumbled.
Larry tried to watch the movie. Her right foot made it difficult. So did the way the top of her robe hung open, revealing most of her right breast through the flimsy pink nightgown. The show on the TV screen was good, but the stolen glimpses were better. Sometimes the foot rubbed him.
Near the end of the movie she stretched out her left leg. Its foot pushed across the top of his thigh and rested on his lap. The pressure there made him squirm. He wrapped his hand around Barbara’s ankle and guided her foot down beside the other.
“Huh?” she moaned. “Sorry. Kicking you?”
“It’s all right,” he said.
Pete looked around, frowning. “Christ, Barb, you’re screwing up the movie. Why don’t you just go to bed.”
“Yeah, maybe I better.”
Shit, Larry thought.
She pushed herself up and staggered to her feet. “Night, guys. Sorry I pooped out on you, Larry.”
“No problem. Thanks for the dinner and everything.”
“Glad you could make it. See ya.” She made her way around the coffee table. Larry could see through her robe when she stepped in front of him. Her breasts swayed a little as she bent over and kissed Pete good night.
Then she was gone.
The room seemed empty without her.
During the final moments of
Pete removed the tape from the VCR. He grinned over his shoulder. “Free at last, free at last,” he said. “Thank God Almighty, free at last.”
“If you want to turn in...”
“Are you kidding?” He pushed the tape of
He came back while the screen still showed its warning against unauthorized use of the videotape. He had a bottle of Irish whiskey in one hand and two glasses in the other. He sat next to Larry on the sofa. He filled the two glasses. “Party time,” he said.
“I’m gonna be wasted tomorrow.”
“The cats are away. Gotta live it up.”
They watched the movie until their glasses were empty. Pete refilled them both, then pressed the Stop button on his remote. The horror film was replaced by a black and white John Wayne movie. Larry recognized it
