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The sex was even better this time, which he hadn’t believed possible. Already he felt comfortable in his skin, sure of himself. This wasn’t the lovemaking of strangers, but the intimacy of two adults. Violet could be rough, and she brought out the bawdiness in him. She was also outrageous, using language that sometimes shocked his staid sensibilities. She could be tender as well, in ways that made him want to weep.
Afterward, they shared a cigarette like lovers in a movie. He couldn’t get over this new sense he had of himself. Violet was tucked up under his arm, her head on his shoulder, face tilted back slightly so she could look at him. He looked down at her, saying, “What?”
She laughed. “How did you know I had something on my mind?”
“You’re not the only one with telepathic powers.”
“That’s good. I like that.” She was quiet, smile fading.
He gave her shoulder a shake. “Come on. Out with it.”
“I was thinking about what you said yesterday. You know, spending the rest of our lives in this room. That was sweet. That made me feel I was special to you, not just a cheap piece of ass.”
“Hey! Enough. Don’t say shit like that about yourself.”
“Well, it’s the truth. You know my reputation. I’m a wild child. I live fast and loose, but you know what it’s about? Under all the trashy talk and screwing around, I’m completely numb, like I’m already dead inside. So at least when I’m crazy drunk and out of control, I feel like I’m alive. Does that make any sense?”
“Jesus, you’ve just described my life. I don’t show it the way you do, but it’s exactly the same with me. You think I’m happy because I make a lot of money and live in a nice house? Doesn’t work that way. All my life I’ve been busy taking care of other people. This is the first thing I’ve done for myself. When I said that about spending the rest of my life with you, I meant it.”
“Thanks. That makes me feel good.” She seemed hesitant. “What happened yesterday, with the car? I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have taken it. I know I was wrong putting all those miles on it, but some thing came over me. It was like I’d just gotten out of prison and the world could be anything. The sunshine and the ocean. It was just so beautiful, flying down the road. I had all the windows cranked down and my hair was whipping across my face. I took it all the way up to forty miles an hour-”
“Shit, Violet. Don’t tell me that. You’ll give me a heart attack.”
“Well, it was an amazing experience and I have you to thank.”
“And for this.”
“Yes, for this.”
He was quiet for a moment. “You know I can make it happen.”
“Make what happen?”
“The car. I can set it up so it’s yours.”
She laughed. “Oh come on. Bullshit. You can’t do that. Are you nuts?”
“I’m serious. Tell Foley to come talk to me. If he shows up tomorrow morning, I can make him a deal.”
“Foley doesn’t have a dime.”
“I know, but we’ll work something out.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not just pulling my leg?”
“I’d do anything for you. I mean it. I’m crazy about you.”
“You don’t have to say that just because we ended up in bed.”
“You don’t know what you’ve done for me. Everything’s different now. I’ve changed.”
“Not changed at all. You’re finally yourself.”
“Tell me you’ll see me tomorrow,” he said. “Otherwise, I’ll never make it to next week.”
She was quiet again, making a study of his face before she formulated her reply. “All right. Tomorrow at four. I’ve got something to take care of first so you gotta promise you won’t get your undies in a wad if I’m late.”
Friday at 3:45, he checked into the Sandman. On Wednesday afternoon when he’d registered the first time, he’d told the desk clerk a pipe had broken in his house, badly flooding the downstairs. He spun the story off the top of his head, never realizing he’d be checking in again the very next day. Thursday, he told her he expected the repairs to be under way, but the contractor stood him up. She’d been sympathetic on the first day and skeptical the second. Today, she was snippy, saying if he was going to check in again, why not just keep the room instead of using it for an hour, checking out, and coming back the next day? He hadn’t realized she was keeping track. He felt compelled to elaborate, talking about the smell of mildew, having to put all his furniture in storage. The phone rang in the midst of his recital. She picked up and turned her back to him. She went on chattering with some friend until he realized she didn’t intend to listen to another word. He took his key and left. What a bitch. He was a respectable businessman. It was no concern of hers what he did or didn’t do, or with whom. He wasn’t sure why he’d even bothered to explain himself. There were other motels. Next time around he and Violet could find someplace else.
He returned to his car and drove the length of the parking lot and parked outside the room. On the way over, he’d stopped at the florist’s and bought Violet an armload of flowers that he wanted her to see the minute she entered the room. He took the bouquet with him and let himself in. They’d twice been in room 14. This was room 12, and he noticed it was quite a bit shabbier. Not that she’d care. He knew the car was already in her possession, because Foley had driven it off the lot at 10:30 that morning. He’d come into the dealership at 8:45, and Chet had made him a better deal than he had any reason to expect. He’d been jovial through the process, knowing he’d be bedding the guy’s wife by 4:15. He’d despised Foley previously, but now he pitied him as well. He was too doltish and too much the brute to appreciate what a rare and precious woman he had. She was clearly more than he could handle-young, sensual, beautiful, spirited. Foley’d tried controlling her with his fists, and all he’d done was to drive her away. Chet knew how to treat a lady and he had the wherewithal to do it right. He’d already formulated half a dozen plans for getting her out of Foley’s house and stashing her somewhere close. At first he thought he’d have to leave Livia, which he was perfectly willing to do. A divorce would be messy and painful, but he was forty-seven years old and entitled to happiness. Of course, his daughter would be upset, but kids were resilient-everybody said so. Kids sensed when their parents were unhappy, and you didn’t do them any favors papering it all over and pretending everything was okay. Better to have it out in the open.
On further reflection, he wondered if his initial impulse was wrong. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how cruel it would be to put Livia through that-the public humiliation, the vituperative shouting matches, not to mention the reduced circumstances divorce would entail. After fifteen years of marriage, she’d be devastated. Better to take the high road and spare her the stigma of divorce and abandonment. His relationship with Violet was his to bear and he’d shoulder it like a man.
He’d checked the classified ads for apartments in Santa Teresa and spotted a rental he thought would serve. Clean and attractive, with an ocean view, it said. He could drive down to see Violet every chance he got. He’d fill her life with riches-clothes, travel, anything she wanted. She might resist at first, not wanting to be beholden, but now that the Bel Air was hers, she’d realize how far he was willing to go.
He filled the ice bucket with water and arranged the flowers, already fantasizing what was coming next. Compared to Violet, he was inexperienced and that was humbling. At the dealership, he was al ways on top-figuratively speaking-but here he yielded, allowing her to do with him as she would. Violet was the boss and he found himself giving up all power to her. The change was restful, a possibility that had never occurred to him. With Livia, he sometimes had to talk himself into making love. He had his physical needs, but it was just as easy to take care of them himself. With Violet, he was charged, half out of his mind in anticipation of her.