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"TA-DA!" Karen stumped into the living room in nothing but a Hawaiian print bikini and the pair of brown cowboy boots I'd admired so long ago in the shop window.
"You thought I'd forgotten, didn't you? Ha! Well, you old cayuse, I didn't. Happy Cowboy Boot Day. If I don't take these things off this minute, my feet are going to warp."
She sat down next to me and pulled them off. When she'd finished, she picked one up and ran her hand along its side. "The man in the store told me that if you take care of them with polish, this leather'll last you a hundred and fifty years."
She looked at me with a smile so loving and excited by what she'd done that for some seconds I thought, Fuck it, I ca
"You don't like them." She dropped the boot and pushed it a little with her bare foot.
"No, Karen, it's not that at all."
"They're the wrong color. You hate them."
"No, they're the best present anyone ever gave me."
"Then what's wrong? Why are you lookin' so sad?"
I got up from the couch and walked to the window. "I got a call from Vie
Karen was unable to hide her emotions; the word "Vie
"All right. What did she say?"
I wanted to tell her! I wanted to sit beside her, take those lovely hands in mine, and tell her every bit of the story. Then I wanted to ask this wise and generous woman what in God's name I should do. But I didn't. Why involve her in this? It would be cruel and u
"Is she tellin' the truth, Joseph? And are you tellin' me the truth?"
"Yes, Karen, both."
"Both." She picked up the cowboy boot again and placed it gently on the coffee table. She put both hands up to her ears as if suddenly there were too much noise in the room. Strangely, the Munch print of The Shriek was directly behind her and she looked eerily like the bedeviled person in the painting.
"It's not right, Joseph."
I went over to the couch and put my arm around her. She came, unresisting. My mind was so blank that the only thing going through it was how very cold her shoulders were. How different from India, who was warm all the time.
"I want to say ten bitchy things all at once, but I'm not goin' to, damn it. It's just not right."
I rocked her under my arm for a long time.
"I want to trust you, Joseph. I want you to tell me you're just goin' back there to help that woman out, and as soon as you can you'll come back to me. I want you to say that to me, and I want to believe it."
"It's true. That's just what I was going to say." I said this with my head resting on hers. She gave me a slight push away and looked at me.
"Yes, you say it now, but I'm scared, Joseph. Miles said it, too. Miles told me he just had to get some things straight in his life and then he'd come back to me. Sure, sure. I was such a sap. He didn't come back! When he left for his 'little while,' he left, and that little while didn't end. I wanted to trust him, too. I did trust him, Joseph, but he never came back! That one time he called, right? You know what he wanted? He wanted to get laid. That's all. He was sweet and fu
"I'm not Miles, Karen. I love you."
She stopped. "Yes, and I love you too, but who can I trust? Sometimes I feel so small and alone that it's like death. Yes, that's what death is – the place where you can't trust anybody. Joseph?"
"Yes?"
"I want to trust you. I want to believe every word you say to me, but I'm afraid. I'm afraid you'll say you've got to go for this little while and then . . . Aw shit, I hate it!"
She stood up and began walking around the room. "You see? You see? I'm so scared right now I've been lyin' to you! Even after that night with Miles, when I started realizin' things about my relationship with him, he called me. You didn't know that, did you?"
My heart dropped on hearing his name, but I kept quiet and waited for her to go on. It was some time before she did. She paced the room the whole time. Watching her small, bare feet cross the floor in the middle of that winter night made everything so much worse.
"He called me a couple of days ago, okay? I never have the guts to tell anyone just to stop, but with him I wanted to ever since that night. I mean, I wanted to ninety percent, but there was a little ten percent in there that kept sayin', Be careful, don't burn those bridges, dearie. You know what happened, though, the last time he called? This is the honest-to-God truth, too, Joseph, so help me. He called and wanted to take me ice skatin' at Rockefeller Center. He knows how I love to do that. Hadn't forgotten a thing, the skunk. Never misses a trick. A little hot cocoa afterward, too? But you know what I said to him, Joseph? Talk about burnin' your bridges? I said, 'Sorry, Miles, Karen's in love right now and can't come to the phone!' Then I hung up. Me! I felt so good doin' it that I picked it up and hung up again."
She laughed to herself and, basking in the memory, put her hands on her hips and smiled at the wall.
"But you said he used you the last time you were together. Did you still want to go out with him after that?"
"Not at the time, no! I had you. But what about now, Joseph? You go away and he happens to call again. He probably will – he's got an ego as big as this room. What do I do when that happens?"
"If he calls again, you go out." I didn't want to say it, but I had to. I had to.
"You don't mean a word of that."
"No, I mean it, Karen. I hate it, but I swear I mean it."
"It wouldn't bother you?" Her eyes narrowed but said nothing I could understand. Her voice was ice.
"It would drive a stake through my heart, my love, if you want the truth-truth. But you'll have to. But don't lie to me either, Karen; there's a part of you that wants to, isn't there?"
She hesitated before answering. I appreciated the fact that she really thought for an instant before speaking.
"Yes and no, Joseph, but I think I've got to do it now. You have to go back to Vie
"Jesus Christ."
"Joseph, please tell me the truth."
"The truth? The truth about what, Karen?"
"About her. About India."
"The truth is, I hate the fact you'll be seeing him. I hate having to go back to Vie
"Me too, Joseph."