“Will you marry me?” Mickey asked.
“When I grow up, I can,” Philippa said. “In like a year.”
They dissolved into laughter. With his good arm, Mickey pulled her toward him. She’d shown up a little while earlier, in a white fleece jacket, Prada sneakers, and a Diane Von Furstenberg wrap dress. And once she was pretty sure Mickey was fine, she’d gotten up on his hospital bed and unwrapped.
Mickey had woken up a few hours earlier and stared out at the Saturday morning haze. He missed Philippa. He’d really broken some bones, too, but by the time she’d arrived and climbed on the bed, he figured out that they’d kept him overnight because they’d seen the psychotic episodes on his chart, not because of his arm.
Now Philippa, who had long, gangly legs and a moonface that didn’t fit with them, big, pouty lips, and high, arched eyebrows, was sitting in the middle of his bed and playing a game with him. She kissed his nose and he tried to move quick, so he’d get a kiss on the lips instead. Mickey had taken off his hospital smock. Neither of them cared that they couldn’t lock the door.
“I heard from Liza that Jonathan brought some gross relative of his last night and everybody was trying to get her bombed so they could sleep with her,” Philippa said.
“It’s your direct manner—that’s what I love.”
“You didn’t do that, though,” she said, and slowly pushed his broken arm back, above his head. She raised an eyebrow. Mickey held his breath. He knew that if she found out he cheated, she would break it again. Luckily, he hadn’t.
“It hurts,” Mickey said. And she bent over and kissed him. “Forget school. I’m going to stay in this bed till you marry me.”
“I will marry you,” Philippa said. “I said I would. Tell me more about Kelli.”
“It’s weird, I remember her as sexier than she actually is. Like somebody in a movie.”
They were kissing when Jonathan walked in with cups of strong black coffee and a mouth that was so wrinkled and downturned that he looked about twenty-five.
Mickey pretended not to hear Jonathan, and so did Philippa. So Jonathan went to the window and opened one of the coffees. He got out his phone and called home.
“Hi, Mom. Did Kelli wake up? I just wanted to ask her something. No, don’t bother. I’ll be home later, probably. Yes, your dinner was wonderful and everybody was terrific and totally beautiful. Totally, yeah. Bye.”
“I think someone’s here,” Philippa said, and laughed.
“Could you two not always be completely naked?” Jonathan asked.
“Don’t look, then,” Philippa said.
“I wasn’t.”
“That says a lot. Anyway, I’ve got to go to Sotheby’s with my dad. He’s bidding on a Lichtenstein against Arno’s dad and he wants me to be there, to make sure I’m not spending time with this one.” She gestured at Mickey.
“Your dad’s so cheap,” Mickey said. “Arno’s dad is definitely going to win. You’re around later?” He reached over to the steel stand next to the bed and grabbed a couple of pills and a cup of water. He took them, and his eyes fluttered.
“No, I’ve got to stick close to home tonight,” she said as she pulled down her dress and tied it. “Call me later though, and tell me you love me.”
“Let’s go get lunch,” Jonathan said. “Seriously. Put your pants on and let’s get out of here.”
Once they were outside and Jonathan had gotten Mickey to walk straight, they went over to the Corner Bistro and Bar, where the waiters knew them both because they’d been going there for after-school burgers since they were in sixth grade.
They settled into a booth in the back and ordered, and then looked around at all the hungover West Village fashion people, who were furiously chomping burgers.
“I’m looped on painkillers,” Mickey said. He swung his broken arm over his head in circles, like a helicopter propeller.
“So you met my cousin before you flipped off the roof?” Jonathan asked.
“I didn’t fool around with her.”
“Well that’s something. But you met her, right?”
“Ooh. Yeah …”
“Arno did.”
“Got with her? How do you know?”
“I don’t know what they did. But I left her with him for over an hour.”
“Oh. Do you want to talk about how much I love Philippa? It’s coming over me pretty hard.”
“It’s just annoying, that’s all.”
“Love?” Mickey asked. He bit into his burger. He sort of wished he could think of anything but Philippa. But he couldn’t. Without her, what was he? He didn’t know. He didn’t always try to do crazy stuff … he just lost focus. He lifted his new cast up and down. Heavy.
“No, about Kelli. Arno always just fools around with everybody without any consideration for the consequences, or how it might make any of us feel. Did I even talk to you about what he did last night? He broke our code.”
“What code?” Mickey asked.
“Um,” Jonathan said. “Forget it.” Mickey was just staring, as if someone were phoning over to him from another cloud. He looked around, with his head at a little bit of an angle. He didn’t seem aware of himself at all. A waiter dropped off a couple of mugs of beer and Jonathan slid Mickey’s out of his reach.
“That girl, Ooh,” Mickey said, with his mouth full. “Hearing about her sort of flipped Philippa out.”
“She’s leaving in a couple of days.”
“That’s good. Philippa said that Liza wasn’t that into her, and that’s never a good sign.” Then Mickey smiled the happy smile of a guy with a broken arm who is both completely in love and totally high.