I remember the afterglow of that one. We laid together side by side in Rod's four poster, the morning light streaming in, her ass in all its splendor serenading my gaze as that gaze moves from window to door across my sweat soaked chest. The bliss is interrupted by the door bell.
"Shit."
"Yeah, I thought we'd be alone up here."
"Forget it, they'll go away."
It's ringing again. And again.
"Apparently not."
I'm up, I'm pulling on my jeans, and I'm trying to close the door that won't close because there are clothes piled up around it. Mara's, mine. I am forced to leave my bare assed babe to fend for herself. I'm down the steps, yelling at the front door,
"Coming!"
"Cal!"
"Xenia! Don't you have keys to your own crib?"
"I do, but I never know what lurks behind the door. And see, there you are, lurking... Notice, I'm back from Scottsdale, ta da!"
"Ta da! Indeed."
"So help me with my bags, you dolt!"
"Sure."
There is some bustle and some in and out, but in short order the woman is restored to her own nest and is looking around. Somewhat surprisingly, Mara has not moved. She's still ass up on the bed, covered by nothing. Xenia pokes her head into her bedroom.
"Aha."
"You've caught us with our pants down."
There's that hysterical laugh.
"I can, uh, see that."
An awkward pause ensues.
"Is (she tilts her head in the direction of the bed) she...ok?"
From the bed comes Mara's sleepy alto:
"Never better. Don't make me have to move."
"My dear Mara, (says Xenia, sing song) I can't possibly explain to you your motivation in this scene."
"I'm motivated to stay put. I could be motivated to have some coffee."
I give Xenia a look and a shrug.
"We'll see what we can scare up!"
Xenia is now warming up to the idea that she has her semi rival in a vulnerable spot.
"I think we can do better than mere coffee, my dear. We'll get you breakfast in bed."
"Xenia, that would be fantastic. But I don't want to be any trouble. At least not that much trouble."
"No trouble. Let's just see what's in the fridge."
The fridge door reveals nothing but a swirling fog.
"Shit we're all out it seems."
I'm feeling helpless.
"Mara, what say we all go out for a bite?"
"Better a bite than being bit," comes the sleepy reply. Ok, ok, I'm getting up."
Up she gets, grabs the pile of her clothes and pads into the bathroom. In the meanwhile, I'm pulling on my own shirt. I totally smell of sex. Do I care? In fairly short order we're on our way down the steps to the corner coffee shop. We've left Xenia waving in the doorway. She just got off the long bus ride, she's had enough coffee, she's not coming.
We're out on the street, walking to a coffee shop.
"Cal, I didn't mean to do that."
"Cal, I didn't mean to do that."
"You didn't?"
"Not like that, not without having some sort of discussion."
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but you can't talk everything to death."
"Like, it's true. We've changed sides or something."
"I think maybe we fuck better than we talk."
"I was thinking that that was better than fucking."
"What, talking?"
"No, I mean, we were making love. We were..."
"Two wild animals in heat?"
"Cal."
"What was it you wanted to talk about, then."
"Well, if you remember last time we, that is I, tried communicating, you lost your voice, or something."
"Mara, I tried to answer. All I was able to do was cover the floor with trash. Many drafts, nothing to publish."
"I want to know what to believe."
"You want ME to tell you?"
"I want to get one thing straight with you going forward."
This was not a tone I liked her to be taking. I felt my humiliation rise. How few the number of minutes since last we lay spent in sticky sweetness. The endless thrashing of words was too much like work; too much, too soon.
"Right. What do I need to get straight?"
"Is it necessary for us to be monogamous?"
"I thought your thing with the man Stan was over."
"It may well be, but that's not my point."
Two peas in a pod might have crossed my mind as we crossed the street.
"Are you asking for a pledge of eternal fidelity?"
"Cal. I'm getting very confused. Are you also...seeing someone else?"
"Mara, it's a town full of people."
We reached the door to the shop. We went in and got a booth.
"See? Look at 'em all. They all want one thing, and one thing only."
"Breakfast?"
"Yes, and lunch and dinner."
"I love it when you eat me."
"I love it when I eat you, but are you getting something more substantial?"
The waitress was at our sides with menus and her pad.
"Coffee."
"You?"
"Me too. Coffee."
"That it? Need a minute?"
"We need a minute."
She went off and we went on.
"I think you blew her mind with the 'eat me' bit."
"I'm sure she's heard it all."
"What were we talking about?"
"Nonsense. Exclusivity."
"Well? Are we gonna go steady?"
"Well, are we?"
"Mara, that's just my point. When you say it out loud like that, it's just so High School."
"Oh. Well. Excuuuse me. We're big kids now, we're all the way up to Sophomore year."
"I say that I don't like those terms. But then, when I read about you and Stan having a ball, so to speak, I see red."
"And you? Are you balling somebody else as well?"
"I'm not. But I might."
"Well, then. Sauce for gander is sauce for goose."
"It academic."
"The price is right."
"I'm in Jeopardy."
"See you on Carson."
"I could rule the world."
"If you could fuck the world."
The hideous expression flew out and hung in mid air. Her face reddened. She rose. I couldn't believe my eyes. I had been floating on the stream of conscious-ness, going along without conscience, and I'd gone just one step too far. I knew it. How to retract that arrow?
"Mara!"
But her flush has turned to purple and she's grabbing her pack and pushing in her way past the crowd to the big glass door. I'm also on my feet now, but what can I do? I don't want to make a scene. I watch her full furious stride as she gets away down the busy morning street. I sit back down, and here's the waitress.
"Decided?"
"Yes. I mean, no. Just bring me a check for the two coffees."
"She ditched ya?"
"Ditched me."
"Sorry. You'll get yourself another, believe me. You're as lovely as the flowers in may."
A beat.
A beat.
"You wanna?"
"I'm married."
"I'm just kidding."
That, I was. I thought we'd just had a temporary tiff. I had the vague intention of trying out my homosexuality (or, more accurately, my bisexuality, or even better yet, simply my sexuality) on my new housemate. I had every intention of hiding this from Mara (and any other woman that might, like the waitress, make me an offer I couldn't refuse). I was young, I was a firecracker. I had no intention of permitting Mara the same liberty. I had, against my will, been led into a game of banter, and like a successful tennis volley, she had caught me out. She might have tolerated my infidelities, so long as she were permitted to have her own. She would not, it turned out, tolerate my intolerant jealousy. She was quite right to shun hypocrisy. Even though we were at the same school, and even though we saw each other from time to time, there was never a repeat of the sex scene, no matter how hard I worked at it. As in the wife/whore dichotomy of High School, I had been delivered a blow of my own devising. This was worse, however, since I still had three years of this to go. However long my life is, I never quite got used to the absence from my world of Mara Monetti. Odd thing, that, because she was never really present. The exception might have been that one wild morning. Presence/absence side by side in time, circling above my head like a dream/nightmare. Where, oh where, is your victory? In the immediate aftermath, death might have, in fact, been welcomed as victorious.
