I Came Out for This? (18 page)

Yesterday, when I called my bank to check my balance, I discovered I was overdrawn and my checks were bouncing off the wall. When I asked the representative to go over my charges he found one for $216 from Enterprise Car Rental, which I never authorized.

I screamed about the thieves at Enterprise Car Rental and then I hung up in a huff. It made no sense. Last week Jerome came in here followed by Johnny and Guillermo and one of their thug friends, and he asked me if I could rent a car for them for one day, using my credit card. He said they would pay me in cash. I said no, no, no, and finally I caved in, knowing he would just nag me until I fell over dead. I drove the four of them to the rental place on K Street and paid for a one-day rental and they sneaked off in the car (since I was supposed to be the driver) and I went home.

After I got off the phone with the bank yesterday, I marched into Guillermo's room and found him lying on his bed with the thug that had been with them that day. “Why did Enterprise Car Rental charge me an extra
two hundred and sixteen dollars?” I demanded, waving my checkbook at them. “I'm overdrawn and my checks are bouncing and I am
very upset
!”

“Oh, honey, I'm so sorry,” Guillermo said. “Jerome said he'd take care of it.”

“What do you mean, Jerome said he'd take care of it? Take care of what?”

“We kept the car for two extra days,” Guillermo said.

I couldn't believe this. “What's the matter with all of you?” I yelled. “How could you do that? Do you think I'm rich? You guys owe me two hundred and ninety-eight dollars, which includes exorbitant charges for three bounced checks! Who's going to give me that money? If I don't get it, Gerald's going to kick me out of here because I won't be able to pay the rent! Has that occurred to any of you lunatics?”

“See?” Guillermo said to his friend. “I told you we shouldn't keep the car.” He turned to me. “Joanna, I swear. I told Jerome, ‘We can't fuck up Joanna.' And he swore to us that he would take care of it. Didn't he, Petey?”

“Yeah, he did,” said Petey. “He swore.”

“Why did you believe him? You know how he is. And anyway, what were you all doing driving around in a rental car for three days? Delivering laundry? I don't get this.”

“We were cruising,” Guillermo said. “Jerome picked up this guy that was dreamy, Joanna.” He smiled beatifically.

“I don't know why you had to go cruising at my expense. Did Nicky know Jerome was tooling around snatching men out of alleys?”

“Oh, it didn't mean nothing,” Guillermo said. “We
were just having fun. Nicky is Jerome's heart. You know that.”

“Well, I suppose I have to talk to Mr. Big,” I said, and went down the hall to Jerome's room. He wasn't in there, but the window was ajar and I looked out and saw footsteps in the melting snow on the fire escape. Jerome must have been listening to our conversation and escaped out the window. I returned to my room and called Nicky and told him what happened. “That bastard was cheating on me?” Nicky said. I rolled my eyes, more concerned at the moment about my $298, although I did feel a little bad for Nicky. I listened to him carry on about Jerome's “despicable behavior” and then I had to go to work.

When I got home, I found an envelope under my door with a check for $298, signed, of course, by Nicky. I went into Jerome's room and found him unperturbed by the whole fiasco. “Why did you make Nicky pay for your . . . indiscretions?” I said. “That's not right!”

Stretched out on his bed, Jerome looked at me through half-lidded eyes. “Don't worry about it, Sweet Meat,” he drawled. “He'll get his money back. Trust me. Do you think I would do anything to hurt my one true love?”

Tonight is New Year's Eve.

A couple days ago I got a coupon in the mail for a New Year's Eve party at Colonel Brooks Tavern, an Irish-style tavern in Kimba's neighborhood known for its conviviality and excellent food. I thought it would be the perfect thing for me and Kimba to do, especially since it's two blocks from her house and we wouldn't have to drink and drive.

I called Kimba and got her machine, and it occurred to me that I hadn't heard from her in two days. Just as I was hanging up the phone, Jerome appeared in my doorway. He stood there with his arms folded and a proprietary look on his face and said, “Do you know where your girlfriend and my boyfriend are?”

“I don't have a girlfriend,” I said.

“Yes, you do. And your girlfriend, Kimba, and my boyfriend, Nicholas, happen to be on a romantic weekend in Berkeley Springs, West Virginia, getting massages and lying naked in the hot springs.”

I felt vaguely annoyed that I didn't know anything about this. “What are you talking about?” I said. “Where did you hear this?”

“I just got a call from Nicky,” Jerome said. “Trust me. They are both naked, as we speak.”

This should have been funny, but for some reason I was irritated. Kimba was always flying around in her own orbit, not telling people what she was doing. And Nicky was
my
friend, not hers. “I can't believe Kimba didn't tell me about this,” I said. “What
is
this? Since when did Kimba and Nicky become bosom buddies?”

“Don't ask me,” Jerome said. “Sounds like they're
real
bosom buddies now. If you catch my drift.”

I had to laugh at this. “That's the craziest thing I ever heard,” I said. “Maybe they're naked, but they're not fucking. Nicky is a fairy. Kimba is a dyke. Hello.”

“That don't matter,” Jerome said. This scared me. When it comes to sexual matters, Jerome is unassailable.

“You think they're
fucking
in Berkeley Springs?” I said.

“That's what Nicky implied,” said Jerome. “He said he'd only been with a woman once and Kimba is more woman than anyone he'd ever known and her naked body reminded him of a wild leopard.”

“He's just trying to make you jealous!” I said. “You think you can keep fucking one man after another without Nicky getting upset about it?”

“That's just business,” Jerome said coolly. I snorted and he said speaking of business he had to tend to some and he left.

Yesterday Kimba called me and asked me if I wanted to go to a poetry reading at Politics and Prose, the leftie independent bookstore on Connecticut Avenue.

“Where were you this weekend?” I said.

“Berkeley Springs,” Kimba said.

“With Nicky?” I asked.

“Yes,” Kimba said in a smug little voice, as though to say, “So what?”

“God, Kimba,” I said. “You and Nicky just run off to Berkeley Springs? I didn't even know you guys had become such good buddies. It's peculiar that I wouldn't even know about this!”

“You don't have to know everything,” Kimba said. I rolled my eyes. Then she placated me with an explanation. “We had made plans to go to the big flea market in Harper's Ferry and then we decided to make a weekend of it,” she said.

I still couldn't understand why no one told me. I like to be in on everything. I was suddenly afraid to ask Kimba if she wanted to go to Colonel Brooks Tavern for New Year's Eve.

“Listen, I got this coupon for a New Year's Eve party at Colonel Brooks Tavern,” I said. “I thought you and I could go.”

“Okay,” Kimba said.

“Do you want to invite Nicky?” I asked. I thought maybe she couldn't get along without her new best friend.

“Fine,” Kimba said inscrutably. I couldn't tell if she wanted to invite Nicky or not. She drives me nuts sometime. I grew up around Jews who spew out their thoughts as they're occurring, and Kimba doesn't speak her thoughts until after she's processed and organized them, and not even then sometimes. I get nervous when I can't tell what someone's thinking.

But Kimba didn't hesitate to express herself when I asked if we should invite Jerome. “No!” she yelled. And I
realized that Nicky and Kimba had probably plotted their weekend excursion to fuck with Jerome's head.

“Jerome said you two were having a romantic naked weekend together,” I said.

“I told Nicky to call him on his cell phone while we were naked in the hot springs,” Kimba said in her innocent little voice that I knew was accompanied by an evil smile.

“So you two
were
naked in the hot springs.”

“Yes, but obviously we weren't fucking.” I felt very foolish for letting Jerome put disorienting thoughts in my head.

Nicky told me he would love to celebrate New Year's Eve with me and Kimba. I felt a little bad about excluding Jerome, but Nicky said, “If you invite that son-of-a-bitch, I'll kill you,” and then he came over and (as he told me later) stormed into Jerome's room, threw Jerome's bracelet back in his face, and said he was sick and tired of being one of “literally hundreds of men” and being “extorted every time I turn around.” He concluded by declaring that he never wanted to see Jerome again as long as he lived. So I guess that took care of that.

I'd better stop writing and figure out what to wear tonight. I know. I'll wear my brown velvet jeans and my silk multicolored shirt that I've had since the eighties. The shirt is so retro it's cool. Not that Kimba will notice. She thinks compliments are gushy. Of course, the flip side of it is, when she gives you one you know she means it.

January 2001

I have no idea what to make of our New Year's Eve get-together. All I know is that it was a hell of a lot better than last year's, when I sat in my room alone with a champagne bottle that I couldn't open, pining for Mrs. Satan.

Unlike last year's balmy night, Friday it was snowing like crazy, and I felt kind of lonely traveling to Kimba's on the Metro through the winter night. But my loneliness vanished as soon as I walked in the house and laid eyes on my friend, all decked out in black velvet pants and a green silk shirt and a black vest. Her freshly colored hair was bright and rakish, and she wore dangling silver earrings, which tickled me.

Kimba said she just got off the phone with Nicky and he was changing trains and would meet us at the tavern. “I don't know what kind of mood he'll be in,” she said. “He just had another fight with Jerome.” She said Jerome was reneging on his promise to move in with him.

“
What?
” I shrieked. “Nicky said he just
broke up
with him!” Kimba gave me a sidelong look that said everything, and I laughed dolefully. “God,” I said. “He'll rob
Nicky blind and give him AIDS and who knows what else. The man has lost his mind.”

“Tell
him
,” Kimba said, grabbing her bomber jacket.

We walked easily though the snowstorm, two Northeast Ohio girls feeling superior to all the Southerners who were intimidated by snow. We got to the tavern, a big, clean, old place with polished wood floors and tables, and it was full but not crowded. They put us in a booth where we had a direct view of the huge, tastefully decorated Christmas tree. (I'm one of those Jews who appreciates Christmas trees, unlike some of my compatriots who hate them because as children they felt left out of winter holidays, which makes no sense to me because we had Chanukah, and anyway it's creepy to begrudge gentiles their seasonal joy.)

Kimba and I ordered whisky sours, which was my idea because it seemed appropriate for an Irish-style bar. Just as the drinks arrived, Nicky walked in. He wore a wool coat over jeans and a brocaded vest, and he looked handsome. He shook the snow off, hung up his coat, and then kissed us both and sat down next to Kimba. He put his arm around her and she smiled a mysterious smile, and I thought, “Maybe Jerome was right about them.” But Nicky removed his arm right away.

“What can I get you, sir?” asked the waiter.

“Scotch on the rocks, said Nicky.

“Any particular kind?”

“I don't care,” said Nicky. “Just something decent.” He settled into a comfortable slouch and said, “I'm not going to rant and rave about the asshole. I won't. This is New Year's Eve.”

But then he did. He said he was hopelessly in love with Jerome, who did not deserve his love. “He's not even human,” said Nicky. “He's an animal. I mean literally. Which makes me guilty of bestiality.”

“Jerome is a beast,” I said. “Have you checked his scalp? I'm sure he has six-six-six pigmented on there.”

“I don't have to check his scalp,” Nicky said. “It's there. Undoubtedly, it's there.”

“You're just in love with the sex,” I said. “I know the man is a sex machine, and he could make a piece of granite come.”

Nicky's face slackened into a silly smile. “Oh, honey,” he said. “You have no idea.”

“Jesus,” I said.

“It's not just that,” Nicky said. “He has more raw charm than anyone I know. I took him to my office party, and he schmoozed up those attorneys as though they were clay in his hands. He cornered this heterosexual judge and fifteen minutes later the judge was laughing like a little boy at Jerome's jokes and his wife was standing next to him, looking annoyed.