I was not up to much – I even had my clothes on – when we heard Kiki’s key in the lock. But my shoes were off, and I only had time to find one of them before I had to take cover under the bed.
The first thing Kiki did when he got in was turn the overhead light on. The first thing Ophelia said to him was to turn it off. ‘Still working on that hangover, huh?’ he said as he obliged her. I couldn’t quite make out his tone of voice. Mocking? Familiar? Just a little bit affectionate? And I couldn’t make out hers. Cold for my benefit? Noncommittal to hide her fear? Triumphant because she had me where she wanted me? A tiny bit petulant?
‘I’m tired,’ she told him as he threw himself on to the bed. ‘Tired and hungry.’
‘Well, that makes two of us,’ he said.
‘Call up Mai’s,’ she said. ‘Let’s do take-out.’
‘Bad idea,’ he said. ‘I’m shot. I don’t want to move. Let’s do pizza. Some place that delivers.’
‘OK then. There’s that place we have the menu from in the kitchen.’
‘Bad idea,’ he said. ‘I told you. If it involves moving, I’m not doing it. What do I need a menu for? I’ll just ask them.’
‘I’m not having you eat pizza in bed,’ she said.
‘Then you know what, babes? You can take it into the kitchen and eat the whole damn thing yourself. Because me and my cooler have plans here.’
I watched his hand pat his cooler, then grope for the channel changer. He turned on the TV. It was when I heard the noise of a basketball game that I knew I was in for a long wait.
If I told you that this was where I first asked myself things like, what did I do to end up here? and, what has my life become? where did I go wrong? do not think that they were questions strong enough to qualify as pangs of conscience. I was preoccupied by my shoe, which I couldn’t reach without making my presence known. After Ophelia had kicked it under the bed for me, after the strangeness of the eavesdropping had worn off, after I stopped tensing myself for quick action every time Ophelia tried to spirit him out of the bedroom (‘I really want to eat this pizza with you at the table.’ ‘Didn’t you say you were on call tonight?’ ‘Couldn’t you drive out for ice-cream for me just this once?’), after I had run through all the other more desperate courses of action that were open to me (crawling out and running, crawling out and presenting myself, crawling out and getting shot), what I began to think about was my alibi.
How was I going to explain this absence to you? To Charlotte? And – oh for God’s sake, by now she would be waiting for me at the movie house – Becky? I couldn’t see my watch. I could only guess what time it was. All I could do was count the commercial breaks and revise my story for each woman accordingly.
It was only when it got to the point that I could not remember what my own cover story was that I began to ask harsher questions. Except that these were offset and interrupted by the bizarre turns that were taking place just above me. Because by now the hangup calls had begun. Or were they hangup calls? It was only when Ophelia was out of the room that Kiki would answer the caller. He would answer in a weird combination of Spanish and English, from which I gathered that he did not want to talk to this person, did not think there was anything to discuss, in fact, did not want to meet her anywhere else either, although, if she put it that way, he guessed he would have to.
And so that’s how I got out. ‘Filly,’ he said. ‘You’re right. I’m on call. Catch you later.’
Ophelia told me I didn’t have to rush now that he was gone because he wouldn’t be back for three hours at least. But I made my apologies. (I now realize, too abruptly.)
I caught Becky just as she was leaving the movie house. ‘Where were you?’ she said.
I made the mistake of saying home.
‘I just called your home,’ she told me, reprovingly. ‘And so did Mitchell. Did you realize you’d agreed to see him at six?’
‘Fuck!’ I said. ‘I did?’
‘Well, it’s too late now, but you know what they say about a stitch in time! Now that you didn’t turn up, he’s really paranoid, so thanks a lot.’
‘God. I’m sorry. Things have been so crazy lately I don’t know when I’m supposed to be where, let alone where I was an hour ago.’
‘So where were you?’
‘Where was I when?’
‘Just now.’
‘I’m sorry but it’s a secret.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘No, honestly. It’s too complicated.’
‘Why?’
‘Just because.’
We went into a café. ‘Believe me,’ I said. ‘If I could tell you I would. In fact, I will tell you some day. If I can.’
‘What’s to stop you telling me now? Is it about Mitchell? Is it about my money? What is going on? Why am I the only one in the dark?’
At that moment, as if on cue, Kiki walked by, with, I did a double take, Mom. Mom was crying. Kiki looked irritated. After they had passed, I could not help laughing, could not help saying this was too bizarre. I suppose it was the strain of not being able to share the joke with anyone, the longing for someone to share my bizarre day with, that made me relent and say to Becky, ‘OK, I’ll tell you what kind of day I’ve had. In fact, I’ll start with yesterday. I guarantee you: you will not believe it.’
‘Why aren’t you laughing?’ I asked when I had reached the end of my story.
‘Because it’s not very funny,’ she said.
‘You’ve got to admit it’s a good story.’
‘It is one of the most disturbing stories I have ever heard. If you think that running around seducing helpless and impressionable women under the guise of friendship is funny, then you are the biggest fucking asshole I have ever met.’
‘Oh come on,’ I said. ‘You can’t blame it all on me. They came more than half-way.’
‘They came more than half-way because you conned them, my dear. It was easy. They were desperate. I call that totally immoral. It offends me on every imaginable level.’
‘But Becky …’ I reached out.
‘Don’t you lay a fucking hand on me.’
‘But Becky. You wanted to know.’ She picked up her handbag, and left. I was still sitting there, too shocked even to notice who at the neighbouring tables was watching and who was not, when I looked up and saw her standing over me, short of breath and furious.
‘If you get to the school and I’m standing outside,’ she said, ‘I want you to wait until I’m gone. If I’m at Charlotte’s house when you get there, I want you to leave. The same goes for Ophelia’s and everywhere else. I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to hear from you. I don’t want your name mentioned in my presence.’
‘But Becky. How am I going to explain that to the others?’
‘I’m sure you’ll think of something, as alibis are all you care about.’
On the way home, I stopped to sit on a bench. I couldn’t bear the thought of facing you: I knew I was going to have to make up some story, but after what Becky had just said to me I didn’t have the heart to lie to you.
You may remember that I was worried unnecessarily: when I got home you were giving Jesse a sponge bath. He had come down with a fever while I was out. And as soon as we got him settled, it was Maria up with her cough. I remember that I spent the night on the floor in their room. When I woke up the next morning, I felt as if I had been plunged down a tunnel with no light at the end of it. I had lost my only friend! How could I live without her?