Glitz

Vincent made the drinks. LaDo

“I was voted Miss Congeniality.”

“I can see why,” Vincent said.

“You better be congenial, try and get along with somebody like Jackie. He’s so… God, he’s so full of himself. I can’t stand the way he talks, his language. Can you?”

“Why do you stay with him?”

“We’re out, he talks all the time. We get home, he doesn’t say a word unless he’s swearing at me. Frances says if she was me she wouldn’t put up with it. I’ve talked to her-well, I’ve known her ever since Vegas. She’s really smart, you know, to get where she is. Up there in the Eye in the Sky. You know what? I think she likes him and she’s trying to get us to break up. She says to me, why the hell do you put up with him?”

“Why do you?”

“Well… Frances says he’s really good at how he knows how to run a casino and all. You know, and he’s fu

“Scared of what?”

“Those guys-what do you think? See, then I get scared. You know what I’m scared the most of? We’re having di

Vincent could hear the rain coming down.

She said, “Yeah, I was voted Miss Congeniality.” Her eyes raised and she said, “I work my fucking butt off trying to be congenial. Look at me.”

15

VINCENT FOUND THE HOUSE on Caspian where Linda was staying with the band: another wooden relic somebody had painted yellow about twenty years ago and since then said the hell with it, wait for the casinos. He was begi

He walked in the front door of Linda’s house and knew somebody was having fun; the smell of reefer almost knocked him over. The La Tunas were sitting around the living room in a cloud of smoke, laid out, accepting his bearded look, at least not worried. He waited in the hall. When Linda came downstairs he said, “I thought for a minute your house was on fire. Those guys blow weed they don’t fool.” Outside he said, “How can you live here?”

She said, “Where’m I go

He said, “You could stay with me, at the Holmhurst.” Not sure if he was kidding or serious.

Linda said, “I’d really be moving up, wouldn’t I?”

He opened the car door for her. “I forgot, I was go

Her black winter coat, lying on the seat.

Standing in the rain she reached up and took his face in her hands and kissed him on the mouth. He held onto her to make it last a little longer than a thank-you kiss. She said, “Vincent, I’m going to have to start giving you some serious thought.” She sounded as though she meant it.

They drove over to the funeral home on Oriental where Vincent told the younger Mr. Bertoia they had come for the ashes of Iris Ruiz. The younger Mr. Bertoia left them and returned with a stainless steel urn the size of a half-gallon milk container. Vincent looked at it. He said, “Something you might consider, put the ashes in Taino Indian pottery.”

The younger Mr. Bertoia said, “Actually, what you’re getting are about eight pounds of bone fragments, not ashes. A body is cremated there aren’t any ashes, as such, just bones.”

Vincent said, “Thank you,” took the urn in one hand, Linda’s arm in the other. As they reached the front door she tried to pull free, but he held onto her, got her outside and in the car.

“Why do you let him bother you, guy like that?”

She said, “You thanked him.” Sounding amazed.

“What’d you want me to do?”

“Tell him off. Jesus, tell him something.”

“I couldn’t think of anything good.”

She was silent as they pulled away from the funeral home and turned corners toward Pacific Avenue. Vincent still couldn’t think of anything. Finally Linda said, “How about, ‘Why don’t you shove a hose up your ass, Mr. Bertoia, drain out the embalming fluid and maybe you’ll act like a living person. With feelings.’ “

“You want to go back?”

“You don’t like it.”

“I think it needs work.”

“But that’s the idea. See, it would be better if you could mention the embalming fluid first and end it with ‘So why don’t you shove a hose up your ass,’ like a punch line. You know what I mean?”

“I think so.”

“ ‘You know what your trouble is, Mr. Bertoia?’… ‘Mr. Bertoia, the trouble with you is, you have the sensitivity of a… ‘ That might work. Tell him what an insensitive nerd he is.”

“You feel better?”

“Not a lot.”

“Tell me what I’m go

“You think she cares?”

“She’d probably rather stay here.”

“Even in her present condition,” Linda said. “I’ve got her clothes, a few pieces of costume jewelry, a hand-carved parrot that’s kind of nice…”

Linda was going to call on hotel entertainment directors and see if she could get an audition, begi

He heard Dixie Davies say, “You sure you want to do this?”