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Paris Review - Hoodie in Xanadu
Paris Review - Hoodie in Xanadu
Paris Review - Hoodie in Xanadu
Hoodie in Xanadu
Ann eattie
IU 193, UMMR 2010
Mot night m neighor, a middle-aged man in a red hoodie, would tand on hi front
porch, reaching up ever now and then to knock the icicle Chritma light dangling
from the porch roof ack and forth. He’d urve the treet and uuall moke a cigarette.
When he nihed, he would fumle for hi ke, then open hi front door lightl,
ducking hi head to enter a if the doorframe were too low. If he aw me watching, he’d
give me a deultor wave, or I’d li a hand in hi direction. He didn’t go out at night, and
he eemed ored or not too right or, like man Ke Weter, prett incomprehenile—
at leat, he would have een in an other context. e icicle light urned all night.
ometime I could hear Glenn Gould plaing loudl, and then m neighor—the
drawtring of hi red hoodie tied under hi chin—would emerge and tand with a
lanket wrapped around him, hivering in hi jean and clog, looking forlornl down the
empt treet. If Hoodie had anthing much reemling a life, ou wouldn’t know it hi
chagrined expreion and the wa he agged in the chair on hi porch like a hot duck,
too heav-aed to rie, even when he needed to ign for a package: quite a heav fellow,
for omeone who moked dope—I’ve melled it—and whom I’ve never een carring a
ag from the grocer tore. When, and how, had he put up the Chritma light?
Hoodie—on the night in Januar we ecame etter acquainted—ilentl greeted me
a we tood acro the treet on our porche: “two citizen of planet arth,” a m late
huand ued to a. What doe Hoodie do all da? I’m in m ixtie, o if anone
wonder aout me—which I dout—I’m ure the aume I creak and groan and prout
chin hair. M own on, Roland, appear once or twice a ear for a rief viit, then return
to Miami. He’ never invited me to viit wherever he live. He’ never even given me an
addre. If Roland know that Chritma ha come and gone, he’ given no indication.
M et gue aout Hoodie? He leep late (man in Ke Wet do), then doe errand
(which occup everone, alwa, until the econd ou pitch over dead)—errand that, in
hi cae, might include a certain numer of doctor viit, given hi weight. I aume he
ha a ho, a well, ecaue of the numer of oxe delivered to the houe. I’ve een
aked man time the UP or the Fedx driver to ign in hi aence. One recent rain
a ernoon I’d taken in two oxe, and walked acro the treet with them later that da.
e hipper had name like OxLox, in Newtville, TN, and tarLad in Winche, NH.
e oxe were heav, though not o heav the might contain OxLox or tarLad
themelve. e o en melled nice (though ometime the melled of moke) and were
more or le the ame ize. Once, when a ox wa hipped through the U.. mail, I’d paid
the potage due of thirt-four cent, for which Hoodie had thanked me profuel.
I arrived in ke wet in , leaving a cruie hip that could continue to tranport it
wear jut ne without me: paenger tainted with u; not-quite ex-wive, giving the
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marriage one more tr; geezer under the deluion that the high ea were a water limo
where the could revert to their outh and not take their medicine; hrill entitled, run-
amok grandchildren; the eccentric who came aoard with hi parrot in it cage. M
huand had died in , Roland wa in oarding chool in Connecticut (courte of
hi grandmother), and I’d impulivel reponded to an ad in e Wahington Pot for
dicounted cain on a winter cruie whoe rt top wa Ke Wet, Florida—which alo
ecame m lat.
When I’d le , I’d gotten a jo cleaning at Tra La La Tropic Guethoue (I wa alo
given a teen room there and permiion to wim in the pool). I had
oon ranched out—there’ a pun!—creating dipla for their entrwa from ower
dicarded a er rich people’ partie, or tu ed in orit’ trah can the night efore
garage pickup. Fallen palm frond have alwa een free, and a gold-and-ilver glitter
tick cot next to nothing and reall add panache. I would pinch-hit for the cook
(Zachar “Zit Man” Chiholm) when hi diaete made him too weak to erve the lat
meal of the night. I’ve een retired for ear, living on m—and m huand’—ocial-
ecurit pament.
I till do the ower for Tra La La, which morphed into ea reeze Houe when
traight people ought it in the ninetie—though I don’t Dumpter-dive anmore. I
upplement m income when I’m called upon to make ridal ouquet and—to m
urprie—writ corage, which are epeciall popular in tranexual commitment
ceremonie. Who know what Hoodie made of me, with thee people coming and going
from m apartment.
Well, here’ what he make of me: he croed the treet, a er all thi time, wearing hi
cutomar red weathirt with the hood pulled up, which he untied and puhed o hi
head a if gallantl removing a fedora, and aid, “I’m emarraed to a we haven’t reall
met,” and I aid, “Joe, I know our name ecaue of the package addreed to ou,” and
he aid, “Right, o let me ak: what’ our name?”
Audre Ann wa the anwer, ut no one had ever called me either name, and Annie
wan’t m favorite nickname—Flora wa. It had een etowed on me in Zit
Man, whoe nickname had preceded our meeting. I told Hoodie I wa Flora.
“Happ to know ou,” he aid. “I’m taking a pill called Zolo , and I nd I’m ale to
extend melf to people now, o I think it’ aout time we made each other’
acquaintance.”
i, of coure, made me feel ad. e poor man wa depreed, and I’d never o
much a introduced melf. A er m huand died, I had retreated inward.
“I’d like to ak ou in for tea,” he aid. “I’m feeling much etter thee da. We’ll have
a chat. Not aout anthing in particular, jut a neighorl viit.”
“Joe, that would e a pleaure. What would e a good time to come over?”
“In half an hour?” he aid.
Half an hour! Well—wh not? “Fine,” I aid. “ ank o much.”
I went inide and aw the anwering-machine light linking. e red light upet me
aout a much a eeing a palmetto ug curr under the ink. You can do it, I told melf
ilentl. I hit pla.
“Mom, hi, I’m calling ecaue I’ve ort of got a ituation here. I there an wa ou
could ue our Triple A card to get u towed? I’m in Georgia.” (!) “Yeah, we’re over here
in Marietta, picking up Cind’ daughter, who’ got an iue with chool or omething”
(?) “and where I wa parked in a parking pace over here right on the treet? Yeah, a tree
fell on our car. I’m maxed out on m credit card and I could ue ome help with towing.
Cind’ cell i ve-one-eight—” then ilence. I tared at the anwering machine; if I
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waited, the other digit of the telephone numer might e magicall lled in. Roland had
a girlfriend named Cind, who had a child, and the were in Georgia? Ohh-ka (a the
exterminator alwa aid, when a ug tarted running). urel he would call ack.
ut time paed, and there wa no new meage. I went into the athroom and took a
quick hower, toweled o , put the ame clothe ack on, looked again at the anwering
machine, then headed o acro the treet.
“Pleae come in, Flora,” Joe aid, tepping aide ungracefull in hi doorwa ut not
haking m hand, though he made a move in that direction and then ti ed the impule.
He wa wearing enormou, agg jean. He tried to tu hi unhaken hand into the
pocket and failed. He had on what looked like a red cahmere weater. He’d done
omething to lick ack what wa le of hi hair.
“Oh! In’t thi omething!” I aid. I wa in Xanadu. e front room wa an enormou,
virant, multicolored tent. e material were radiant; ome parkled with tin mirror
that threw o light; other were woven with thread that eemed to li o the urface like
three-dimenional TV tet pattern. I’d never een to Morocco, ut mae thi i what
thing looked like there. Faric wa draped over the wall and wag dipped from corner
to corner. e wall were hung with quilt in variou geometric pattern. Onl the two
front window, with white hade lowered, were not omehow lanketed. Your ee wa
contantl drawn to where the material converged midceiling, punctured a dazzling
pink potlight that looked like it might have jut vaporized a amingo. i mut have
een what had come in the oxe: the quilt and faric, the himmering thread. People
thought the ack garden were the hidden ecret of Ke Wet? e hould ee thi!
Joe reentered the room—I’d hardl noticed he wa gone—wheeling a two-tier cart
carring a ilver tea ervice. A lovel aroma mingled with the room’ other mell: a it
mut, omewhat cinnamon, lemon-tinged. “White room drive me craz,” he aid
traight-faced, a if delivering the punch line of a joke. He poured tea into a china cup
and handed it to me, the cup teetering on a mimatched aucer. “Cream and ugar,” he
getured. He poured a cup for himelf. Hi free hand wept in the direction of two lack
utter chair, which of coure hadn’t een apparent amid the riot of color. We
retreated to the chair. “Lad Gre,” Joe aid, ighing the word, and at rt I entertained
the notion that it might e a new nickname for me—that he could e making a remark
aout the color of m hair. He held up the tea ag’ paper tag, like a little magnifing
len, or a it of unre ective mirror, or a tin hape from one of the quilt: Lad Gre.
“ ank ou for coming,” he aid.
A ou would imagine, we talked aout how he created the room. It took a ear, he
told me. He had the AC re-vented at hi own expene. He called the room “m peronal
viion.” i wa the gu who tood outide moking, gazing at nothing? I felt like I wa a
hard inide a vat kaleidocope. “It’ for rent, now that it’ exactl the wa I want it,” he
aid. “To e perfectl frank, it’ omething I hoped to interet ou in.”
“Me, rent our living room?”
“No, no. ut I’ve een our talent for ower arranging, and I thought that when ver
pecial people came, I might call on ou to arrange ome ower.”
“pecial people? What do ou mean?”
“Flora, if ou promie to keep thi in the trictet con dence, I can e peci c aout
the rt arrival,” he aid.
In the econd efore he whipered their name I wondered: might the e the ueen
of Heart and the White Rait? e rt name, the woman’, I recognized, ut I wan’t
ure I could pick her out of a lineup. e man’ name meant nothing to me, ut he wa,
apparentl, the huand.
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“You know, thi i jut incredile,” I aid. “Are the—I mean, the’re checking in?”
“I’d a checking out,” he aid, pleaed with hi turn of phrae.
“You want me to do the ower?” I aid. “Where would ou put them?”
“I have a tale in the other room,” he aid, ounding a it hurt. “I’ll ring in the tale.”
We ipped our tea in ilence.
“o thee celeritie are on their wa?” I aked. “When?”
“aturda. e rented it from noon to midnight.”
“I have to do the ower for a wedding on a catamaran thi aturda, Joe.”
“Won’t the low awa?” he aid.
“ e vae have rick in the ottom. I undle the tem together and put ink
weight on them.”
“I’ll give ou ve thouand dollar,” he aid.
“Well . . . do we know what kind of ower the like?”
“I can ak.”
I nodded. “I feel like that would e taking advantage, though,” I aid. “It’ too much
mone.”
“It in’t a lot of mone to them, I gue.”
I thought aout it for a moment. Five thouand dollar wa more than I’d make in
man month of doing wedding arrangement.
“Well, I can’t ver well a no, can I?”
“Good. More tea?”
“No, thank ou. ut it’ deliciou.”
“I’m glad ou like it.”
“No one could poil upect that walking through our front door, thi i what
he’d nd.”
“I never raie the hade,” he aid.
“How did ou get the word out that—”
“Craiglit.”
“ e were reading Craiglit?”
“ eir people were. It’ an anniverar. Not a wedding anniverar. e da their child
wa conceived, or omething.”
“hould I allude to that in the ower arrangement?”
“I wouldn’t a o, no. I think that information wa jut peronal. For ome reaon,
the ecretar felt he had to explain herelf.”
“And ou reall do elieve—”
“ e depoit cleared.”
“Wow. All right. Well, I’ll have to give thi ome eriou thought. I’m glad I’ve got
time to get ower own in from Miami. i i reall incredil kind of ou, Joe.”
“I jut look like a fat chmuck, don’t I?”
e quetion tartled me. If there’d een anwhere to put m teacup, I’d have et it
down.
“No worrie,” he aid, geturing to the wall. “ i i de nitel the revenge of the
nerd.”
“It’ trul amazing. To think thi exit right acro the treet from me! o—can I
come up with ome ketche? How would that e?”
“You don’t have to how me ketche. You’re a geniu.”
“Oh, far from it,” I aid. “And ou’ve arel een m work.”
“I didn’t exactl level with ou efore: the UP gu told me our name, ecaue
ou’re alwa o nice aout igning for m package, and I’ve got a ook aout deigner
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who’ve done amazing Ke Wet interior, o I realized intantl who ou were. I aw one
arrangement where ou wrapped lace around amoo hoot and cattered nail on the
tale! It took a while to get up m courage to approach ou.”
“ e UP deliver peron know who I am?”
“He ued to have a deign tore with hi wife in Marathon. Hi wife ued to e a gu.
he wa the roommate of a cook who ued to e a friend of our at Tra La La? I think he
took photograph of our ower arrangement for their rochure, right? e cook?”
“Ye, he did do that. You know, I fell out of touch with him. I didn’t know he had a
roommate. I mean, except for work, I gue I didn’t know him ver well.”
“I heard he’ working at a retaurant in outh each. Hi health i apparentl much
etter. Ha ome pump in hi chet, or omething.”
“I ee. o the UP man married Zachar the cook’ roommate, who had ex-change
urger?”
Joe nodded.
“ at’ a ver Ke Wet tor.”
“It’ wh we’re all here, right?”
I momentaril conidered the poiilit that he’d een referring peci call to ex-
change urger. “What do ou mean?” I aid.
“o that everthing can e a Ke Wet tor.”
Relieved, I found melf on m feet, preparing to leave. “ i ha een quite the
da!” I aid. “To e continued.”
He roe alo, on the econd attempt. He aid, “I’ll e-mail their ecretar and get
information aout what ower the like.”
“Good. Let me know.”
He reached out, ut it wa for m teacup, not to hake hand. Neverthele, he did
hake m hand ecaue it wa extended. en he took the teacup and aucer and returned
them, with hi, to the cart. He aid, over hi houlder: “In’t it reall ad when ou loe
touch with people ou once cared aout? Technolog ha made everthing wore,
ecaue ou feel like ou could potentiall get in touch, o ou aume ou will, and then
intead of writing a letter, ou’re looking for omeod on Faceook, and half the time
the’re not there.”
He opened the door enough to let me out. A kid ew down the idewalk on a
kateoard, with all the dexterit of a edgling. When the o paed, Joe quickl
tepped out ehind me, unlit cigarette in hand, and pulled the door cloed. “Now ou
know,” he aid.
e word echoed in m head a I reentered m apartment, which looked more than a
little ha, with an afghan thrown over an old chair and a picture hanging crooked. ut
who lived like Joe? ere wa omething ver odd aout it—well: of coure there wa.
e anwering-machine light wa linking, and I knew who’d le the meage:
Roland, calling to get m help o hi car could e towed. “Mom,” he aid the econd I
puhed pla, a if hi voice had een waiting to jump out of the machine. “He, Mom, we
had that little troule there, ut ome good amaritan gave u a ride to the chool, o we
met up with Frieda, no prolem, ut when we got ack to the car it’d een towed, o I
wa wondering if ou could call the towing compan and point out that a huge tree fell
on our car and it wan’t jut a matter of not repecting the rule moving our car ve
o’clock. We had no wa to do that with ome tree crahed down on it. I’ve got the name
of the place here. e thing i, we’re all going to have to get ack to Miami, like get a u
or omething, and the cah machine won’t take Cind’ MaterCard. If ou—” e line
went dead.
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I alread felt like Alice expelled from Wonderland, ut Roland’ phone call wa too
much of thi world. I would have loved to have een ale to tell m huand aout m
adventure, though if he’d lived, we’d till e living in Wahington, DC. I had heard on the
Weather Channel that Wahington had gotten two feet of now. now that deep would
paralze the place. I undreed and tepped out of m hoe to lie down and take a nap. I
la on m ide, pulling the edpread from the far ide of the ed over me for a little
warmth. What a ad little chenille cover it wa, alding a it here and there a if a caged
animal had it it fur, a gloom eige to egin with. Joe would didain uch a cover,
though under it warmth I fell quickl aleep.
Her favorite ower were anthurium, ird-of-paradie, and protea. Mixed in with
thee would e white irie, which, when I ordered them, I requeted have the tightet
ud poile, ince once the open, the die in a da. It wa rik, I knew, ut it worked
out. I found ome white rion with red parkle at the dollar tore out on the highwa
and aked a friend if I could prune hi ougainvillea—awful, thorn tu , ut it would
jut e at the ae of the arrangement, and what wa eaut without a little danger? I
found ome gallon milk container in people’ reccling and rined them and cut o the
top with pruning hear. I would ue rick a platform of variou height to upport
the gallon ottle, and diguie them under eard of panih mo. Under cover of
darkne, I graed panih mo from a tree on White treet. I aked Joe if I could come
in aturda morning to aemle the ower on-ite. ere were man ower, rought at
little expene, ecaue Manolo’ aitant (Manolo owned the orit’ in Miami) would
e driving to Ke Wet anwa, to deliver orchid to the Marquea Hotel and to ee hi
girlfriend. Manolo had a ver entre nou wa of talking. He thought two hundred dollar
to deliver them wa more than generou. If ou’re wondering whether the check to me
cleared, there wa no check. I had ve thouand dollar cah, which Joe had handed me in
a ank envelope the da a er we poke. It wa a perplexingl large amount of cah to
have, ut I eemed unale to depoit it in m ank account. I jut kept looking at the
envelope, which I tucked in the ellow page and put in a cainet drawer in the kitchen.
Joe told me I could come whenever I wanted that morning, and we agreed that I would
egin around ten.
e night efore, I had lept adl, and it took two epreo to get me going. I had
hoped Joe would volunteer to help me carr the oxe—the ird-of-paradie had een
too long-temmed to keep in m emptied-out refrigerator, o the’d een in the ink
overnight, oaking in the porou inert of the aparagu teamer—ut he eemed o
nervou, I didn’t want to do more than hint, making it a point to tagger during the three
trip I made carring the ig oxe.
I arranged and arranged, repoitioned, plucked and tucked, and when I wa nihed,
I ued the tip of m hedge clipper to pick up the ougainvillea ranche, feeling a
powerful, ut a humle, a a lackmith dipping into the forge. It wa a trul
magni cent arrangement. ig-headed protea dowed aove the ougainvillea. ird-of-
paradie hot upward like torche. e delicate, wax anthurium, in white and pink,
added an odd texture and were perfectl interpered with the white irie. I alternated
the two, like the rail of a curving taircae ette Davi would decend. elow the aket I
cattered gold tar (appropriate!) I’d gotten at CV and muical note I’d cut from lack
contruction paper, conulting one of m on’ ohood ongook—it page perforated
ilver h—to make ure I’d gotten them right. Move over, Martha tewart. At exactl
eleven a.m., Joe again pronounced me a geniu. He had centered the tale under the
potlight. It wa reall riveting. We hated to leave, ut we did, Joe dropping hi ke in the
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“I’ll ring it to ou,” I aid.
“Ye, pleae, o orr, thank ou,” he aid.
I ran up onto the front porch and folded the wooden chair and carried it to where he
tood, weat running down hi face. I’d found the chair curide, then worried it might
have termite, o I’d never taken it inide. Joe at down and rued hi hand over hi face,
then down the leg of hi jean. “o orr,” he aid. Hi reathing wa le frantic, ut he
tared traight ahead. If he’d een uperman, he would have een looking through the
clapoard into the gorgeoul wirling tent, where m ower at center tage. I tood at
hi ide with m hand on the top of the chair. I felt a little rattled, melf. I no longer
eemed ale to think eond the next minute.
Time paed, and he got etter. I went in to get him a gla of water. We chatted aout
hi guet’ arrival—how oon the’d e there, that ort of thing. “I wa going to it in the
reading room of the lirar,” he aid, tilting hi head to look at me.
“Well, when ou feel read, we’ll have ome tea, or whatever ou’d like.” I tried to
ound encouraging, ut I wan’t ure he’d ever make it into the houe. I wa worried that
the famou people would how up and we’d e there, gawking.
We did make it inide, we had tea, and a erward Joe agreed to lie down for a minute
to ret. He tretched out on the ofa and fell aleep. He nored a it. e un came out
from ehind the cloud and I thought the light would awaken him, ut he threw hi
hand over hi ee and continued to leep. A the da went on and it got colder, I
conidered putting on the pace heater, though the thing made an awful crackling noie,
and I wa afraid it might wake him. I lightl placed the afghan over Joe. I picked up the
ook I wa reading, In Tranit Mavi Gallant. e torie were ver involving, though
ever now and then I’d look up to ee if anthing wa happening acro the treet.
Graduall I let the worr I’d tried to uppre take over: What if the never came at all?
ough he did—we did—have the mone, at leat. What would it matter if Xanadu at
there, uneen? I went on to the next tor. I wa o engroed that I forgot aout dinner,
a I’d forgotten aout lunch. To e honet, I might have een reading a it deperatel, a
a wa not to think aout what wa—or, more accuratel, what wa not—going on.
When Joe woke up, we had tomato oup and we moved one of the chair o we could
it ide ide in the dark, watching a it of late-night TV, tring to pretend to each
other that we weren’t watching hi houe. Not long efore midnight, an enormou white
hape appeared in front of the window: a white tretch Humvee limo. We couldn’t have
een more urpried if Mo Dick had eached himelf. We ucked in our reath. We
raced to the window in union and cloed the curtain, then peeked from either ide, a if
we’d reheared thi. “ ere the are!” he aid. “M God! e’re here!” I whipered. It
wa like eing a little child looking in on anta Clau. i wa no anta, though. A I’d
read in the taloid at the checkout line, he wa ver curvaceou. he had on a long
white traple gown, plunging in the ack and looking I don’t know what wa in front,
ecaue he got out on the ide near the cur and I never aw anthing ut her coxcom
of fancifull upwept hair, her long neck and ack. A fur tole wa handed out of the car
and then, on the ame ide from which he’d diemarked, with the chau eur now
holding open the door, the huand emerged, quite a it horter than hi wife, reaching
up to place the fur around hi wife’ houlder, though he didn’t top walking, o intead
he carried the tole like a pet. I wa tring to rememer ever detail, a if it had egun
happening hour ago: for intance, that he’d gotten out of the limo efore the chau eur
had managed to get to her door. “Look for them, the’re in there!” Joe whipered. e
chau eur wa reaching around in the mailox for the ke. He pulled out the da’ mail
—hadn’t thought aout that a an impediment to nding the ke!—then he found the
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ke, we could ee that. He and the huand tepped in front of the woman, who had on
ver high heel, proal a high a the could e made. he took everal perfect
ackward tep, and nall wept up her tole and toed it over one houlder. en the
were all three inide and the door wa cloed. e chau eur wa in there with them.
ehind the limo, omeone tried to inch pat, gave up, and egan acking up. e limo
glowed rightl under the lamplight. We aid nothing. ome people paed ,
commenting on the limo. e topped and tared, ut ince nothing wa going on, their
loud voice dri ed awa a the continued walking.
e chau eur came out, cloing the door ehind him, putting on hi cap. He went
quickl to the trunk and took out an ice ucket and a tand. “ e didn’t a the wanted
anthing,” Joe whipered, hurt. Our ee met, ut we didn’t want to mi anthing. With
a ottle of omething—champagne?—tucked under hi arm, the chau eur went ack in,
carring the ice ucket in it tand. “ ere’ no ice,” Joe aid. “I locked everthing ut the
athroom.” I hrugged. “Well, ou aid the didn’t tell ou the wanted anthing,” I aid
uneail. e chau eur exited in aout three minute. He tood on the porch looking le
and right, much the wa Joe did at night, and then, removing hi cap, he ounced down
the tair and got in the driver’ eat and pulled awa, ome car honking ehind him, a
icclit, alone, liding through the narrow pace etween Humvee and parked car.
en there wa darkne.
“Did ou ee the height of thoe heel? You don’t ee thoe down here, unle it’
tourit from New Jere or drag queen,” I aid.
He looked at hi watch. “he had a phenomenal a, if that in’t too crude to a,” he
aid. “It’ a er midnight. How long do ou think the’re going to ta?”
“At leat a long a it take to drink a ottle of champagne.”
“Let’ open the curtain,” Joe aid. “ e won’t ee u if we turn o the TV.”
We did, then continued to it in the dark. I wondered whether the two of them might
e in there all night, and what that would mean in term of Joe.
en the ig white limo pulled up again, and the chau eur, putting on hi cap, got
out and went around to . . . what? He li ed a ig ag of ice from the oor. He carried it in
the crook of one arm, and I aw how powerful that arm wa. He went into the houe and
wa out in another few minute, in time to move efore the car ehind him with it
puling, deafening ound tem ounded it horn again.
Joe awned. I got up and turned on the pace heater. I o ered him the afghan, ut he
inited I have it. I pread it over m leg. I had never known it to e thi cold in Ke
Wet. he mut e freezing, in her low-cut dre. And doing what, inide? e didn’t
eem like the tpe who would get down on the oor, ut ou never could tell. I
wondered if Joe wa thinking the ame thing.
“melling the ower, drinking champagne, dancing,” Joe aid, a if reading m mind.
en: “I hope neither one of them moke. e ad ver peci call aid no moking. I go
outide, melf. e’re proal not moker, though,” he aid. “Although a lot of thoe
people are.”
“Did ou make it clear that the had to leave at midnight?”
“It wa ver clear. Con rmed with the ecretar.”
“Wh do ou think the came o late?”
“ oe people have no ene of time,” he aid.
Wait! e huand wa tanding on the treet, talking on hi cell phone. He wa
hunched over in the wind, hand to hi ear, then he wa reaching ehind him for the hand
of the woman decending the tair, who threw the ottle into the uhe! Good God, it
diappeared right into the hiicu. Joe and I looked at each other. e man and hi wife
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claped hand a he leaned her head, with it ig tower of hair, on hi houlder—having
to duck down a it to do o. e tole wa fatened around her collarone. he ent a it
to ki him. He lid hi hand down her ack a their lip locked. He clutched her, ut
kept looking over her houlder. en he tepped out of her hoe and handed it to him.
He dropped hi cell phone in hi jacket pocket and held her hoe. Hi other hand
remained around her wait. he umped down again and handed him the other hoe,
and he tried to give it ack, ut he put her hand ehind her ack. e dre had to e
atin. Her huand tood there with hi funn little pencil mutache, holding the hoe
their heel, earching the treet. e limo pulled up and the driver jumped out with
another ottle of—I gue—champagne, ut the huand put hi hand up like a tra c
cop and turned and pulled open the ack door. Hi wife’ hin, amazing a tipped into
the air for a econd, then he wa in, head rt. He toed her hoe on the oor,
rearranged omething, and cloed the ack door. He hopped in the front eat and the
limo idled for a minute, then the chau eur got out, went up the tair, put the ke in the
mailox, returned, and drove awa.
Joe and I were oth o tired, we were ruing our ee. e quetion wa: could he
make it ack acro the treet? Or: would I reall prefer that he ta, jut in a neighorl
wa, of coure. Or did I impl dread taking the chance and eing caught out in the cold
again, with Joe unale to take another tep? e ame thought had to e going through
hi head.
“Your on that ou were telling me aout earlier? You think he get cared and can’t
continue peaking. Did ou mean he uddenl eize up, or—”
“I don’t know. I gue I don’t want to think he’ drunk or toned.”
“He could e having panic attack, ou know. It ound like he’ nding himelf in
ome trange ituation—not that the mot ordinar thing can’t provoke an attack. I
could talk to him. e have a lot of new drug for that. Not that the’ve done me an
good.”
He’ forthcoming, and he’ willing to addre m prolem, and I like that. Mae thi
i it, I thought. How much do I need to go out gallivanting, when I’m happ to take an
a ernoon nap and am awning midnight, even in the midt of a fair tale? Alo, he’
proven he’ no deadeat. etween u, we’ve jut made what ued to e m entire ear’
alar. You mi out on life for ear and ear, and then ou meet the gu acro the
treet, who think ou’re a geniu, and ou’ve got mone again, and love . . . well, it wa
hardl love with Joe, ut it wa clear that even though thi wa the lat thing I expected, it
wa the wa thing did conclude for two citizen of planet arth, and in pite of all odd,
I had a partner. I had a partner on a night when the animal ang and danced in the
moonlight, and the old people at and tared.
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