• “This little bar,” Kathy says. “It’s where we had our second date. It was the first time you touched me.”
“Boy, what that started,” Robert says, trying to sound upbeat. He sips some of the straight bourbon on ice he’s got.
“I can tell you the date. February l6th.”
“Sometimes you don’t seem very sentimental. Then you do.”
“I actually am. It’s more fun that way. If you keep up your end, I’ll be Mrs. Mush.”
Robert grins, a little uneasily, glancing around. “I’m sorry we don’t have more time.”
“I know, I know,” she laughs. “But how, you want to know, do you get laid?”
“Well . . .”
“Can’t get enough, huh?”
“I can’t.”
“Music, sweet music. Well, there is a phone booth back there.”
“And anything. . . . I’ll sit, you’ll stand up.”
“Oh, that took my breath away.”
She strokes his hands. Gives him a look that turns his skin crimson.
“Kathy, Kathy, wait a minute. While I can still think at all. . . .”
“Alright, what?”
“Alright, let’s say she stays home on the 12th. It’s go?”
“You tell me.”
Kathy watches him with a slight frown on her face. She tilts her head slightly, waiting, trying to smile, trying not to show disappointment.
“I just have to see this clearly,” Robert says. “I mean, that you can actually pull this off. Maybe there’s no cab when you need it. Or maybe you can’t get away from the office. It’s a Wednesday or Thursday, for sure.”
“If I can’t, I can’t. I told you, I go along the road until I have to turn back. Or I’m sure and I go ahead.”
“Well,” Robert muses, “I suppose something could be done on a weekend.”
“Yes. But the more I thought about it, the more I liked a workday. It’s just not what anyone would expect. And I really know I can leave a lot of false clues, all over the place, without that much trouble. I’m not even going to tell you everything. You don’t need to know.”
“Really?”
“First anniversary. I’ll tell you then.”
Robert stares at her, always amazed at how far ahead she thinks. He feels as if he’s stumbling and lurching from one day to the next.
“Well, we’ve got the alibi, the codes, everything is clear. . . .” He hesitates.
“Damn it, Robie. . . . Yes or no? Stay or go?”
“What?”
They rub each other’s hands, stare for a moment.
“Robie,” she sighs. “Make a decision and stick with it. . . . Be a man.”
He looks at her, sees a sadness in her face that he hates. He knows he’s letting her down, not doing his half, not being as strong as she is. It torments him. “You’re right,” he says with utter sincerity. “You are 100 percent right. I love you, Kathy Becker, that’s all that matters. You’re the most wonderful miracle I can imagine.”
“That’s nice.” Now she’s smiling again. She sits forward suddenly, standing partway, and kisses him on his mouth. Her hands caress his head and as she sits back, one hand presses down his chest and fleetingly touches his pants.
“Damn,” he says, angry with himself. “I’m the one who figured all the pros and cons. I got us here. . . . I’m sorry. No more bullshit. And the truth is, I have complete confidence in you. Hell,” he laughs, “you ever think about being a spy or a Green Beret, something like that?”
“Ohhh, now you’re making me horny. . . . Only, darling, if you were the prize.”
“Mrs. Mush, huh? Sometimes you say the sweetest things.” He takes a loosely folded blue handkerchief out of his jacket pocket. Something solid about seven inches long wrapped inside. “What you asked . . .”
She takes the handkerchief and slips it in her purse. “Well,” she says, smiling again, “I am probably the sweetest girl you know.”
“It’s true.”
“You really want to get in that phone booth, don’t you?”
“No. . . . I was just pointing out the truth.”
She jerks his arms out straight, so his fists press into her breasts. “I want to,” she says sternly. “Please don’t say no.”
“Well, if you’re going to twist my arm.”
“That’s not all.”
She’s laughing as she stands up by the table and pulls him up, too.