‘How long did you wait?’ I asked.
‘Before leaving the house?’ She shrugged. ‘About an hour and a half. I set the alarm and took a little nap. Thought maybe I’d pass you along the way. Then I didn’t, so I figured you must’ve gotten here ahead of me. Only that sure didn’t happen. Not that it matters. I didn’t mind waiting.’
‘I took sort of an indirect route.’
‘So I gathered.’
She didn’t look as if she minded. She just seemed glad that I was with her now.
‘You sure went to a lot of trouble,’ I said.
‘Nah. It was nothing.’
‘It was a lot.’
‘Well ... That’s okay. I’ll be fine for my ten o’clock. What about you?’
‘Nothing till one.’
‘Oh, aren’t you the lucky one?’
I smiled at that and tried one of the donuts. My teeth crunched through its crust and sank into soft, moist cake inside. The sweetness seemed to flood my mouth.
‘What do you have at one?’ Eileen asked.
I swallowed some donut. ‘Shakespeare seminar.’
‘Ah. With Horrible Hillary Hatchens.’
I laughed. ‘Oh, yeah.’
‘I had her last year. Yug.’
Eileen, by the way, was a year older than me. A year older than Holly, too. She’d been Holly’s roommate at the sorority house last year. Now she was a senior and, like me, an English major.
Holly had been a psych major. That should come as no surprise. As everybody knows, the field of pyschology mostly attracts people who are fucked up.
‘In case you haven’t noticed,’ Eileen said, ‘Hatchens hates guys.’
‘I’ve noticed, all right.’
‘Must’ve gotten dumped bigtime somewhere along the line.’
‘I can’t imagine anyone not dumping her,’ I said.
‘She’s pretty cute, though, don’t you think?’
‘I guess so. Cute but scary.’
Nodding and grinning, Eileen said, ‘It’s hard to imagine any guy having the nerve to ask her out in the first place. She likes me and I’m scared of her.’
I sipped coffee, ate some more donut and nodded now and then as Eileen continued.
‘Anyway, I took pretty good notes last year. I also have copies of all her exams. You’re welcome to borrow them. I’d let you use my term paper, too, but she’d probably catch on. She’s a bitch, but she’s not stupid.’ Grinning, Eileen added, ‘Though I’m sure she’s not as smart as she thinks she is. I mean, how could she be? Nobody’s that smart.’
With that, she had me laughing. It felt good.
But even as I laughed at her attack on Dr Hatchens, I wondered what was going on with Eileen. Had she come all the way out here in the middle of the night simply to cheer me up? Or was she trying to start something?
Last year, she’d seemed like an older sister to Holly. (Indeed, she was Holly’s sorority sister.) She’d always treated me very well, but only because she considered me to be a good boyfriend/lover for Holly.
That’s what I’d thought, anyway.
Maybe I’d had it wrong.
Or maybe that’s how it had been last year. Now, however, Holly was out of the picture. Maybe Eileen had hopes of stepping in to take her place.
Hard to imagine why she would want to. I wasn’t exactly a prize. She was much too pretty to be interested in a guy like me.
After giving me a little while to work on my coffee and donuts, Eileen said, ‘So how did your walk go?’
‘Not bad. It was nice to get out of my apartment. And I think it helped take my mind off ...’ I couldn’t force myself to speak the name.
‘La belle dame sans merci?’ Eileen suggested.
‘I guess you could call her that. I’d probably call her something else. Short with four letters.’
Eileen laughed a bit sadly.
‘Sod her,’ I said.
‘Keeping it literary.’
‘Right. Sod her and the steed she rode in on.’
Eileen laughed a bit more, then shook her head. ‘It’s so awful. I’m so sorry.’
‘That’s the way it goes.’
‘Don’t I know it.’
I nodded. I knew that she knew it. My freshman year at Willmington, I’d seen Eileen around campus quite a lot. I’d known who she was, that she was an English major a year ahead of me, and that she was supposedly engaged to her high-school sweetheart. Her fiancé wasn’t on campus, though. He was attending the University of California at Berkeley ... about a two-day drive from Willmington. At some point before Holly and I started going together last spring, the guy dumped Eileen. After that, she went around with a lot of guys, but none for very long.
‘Maybe we’re both better off,’ she said.
‘I don’t know.’
‘It’s just too bad these things always have to end so badly.’
‘I’m not sure anything doesn’t,’ I said.
‘Oh, I don’t know.’ A smile drifted across her face. ‘I was always very glad to see the end of the Shakespeare seminar. I mean, I love Shakespeare, but Horrible Hillary Hatchens ...’
‘That’s a little different.’
‘I know. You meant good things. Relationships and stuff.’
‘Yeah.’
‘I’ve heard of people staying friends afterwards.’
‘I think that’s a crock,’ I said. ‘How can they stay friends? If they love each other and one of them stabs the other in the back ... I don’t think so. The stabber might want to stay friends, but not the stabbee.’
Eileen laughed softly. ‘Being a stabbee myself, I guess I’d have to agree with you. I pretty much just hate Warren. But I don’t like feeling that way. I wish it were different. And I hate to think that you might end up hating Holly.’
‘Yeah, well.’
I went ahead and ate my last donut. I didn’t enjoy it much, though.
Just like I didn’t much enjoy talking about Holly and busted relationships.
As I polished off my coffee, Eileen said, ‘So, what’s the verdict? Do you want to ride back with me? Or would you rather hike those seven long, lonely miles back to your apartment?’
The question didn’t exactly take me by surprise.
Until encountering Eileen in Dandi Donuts, I’d expected to walk back ... with a detour over to Franklin Street for another look at the house of the mystery girl.
I’d wanted very much to take another look at her house. With the possibility, I guess, of seeing her again.
I wanted badly to see her again.
But I couldn’t refuse Eileen. Her offer to drive me home was an unwanted gift, but I didn’t have the heart to turn it down.
‘I’d rather ride back with you,’ I said.
The look on her face made me glad I’d accepted.
We got up to leave. ‘Want any donuts for the road?’ I asked.
‘No no no. I’ll turn into a tub.’
Outside, we walked around the comer. Nobody else was around. The air had the strange damp smell that it only seemed to get in the hours after midnight. I heard a shopping cart, but it sounded far away.
Eileen’s car was parked off Division Street. That’s why I hadn’t seen it during my approach to the donut shop.
She’d left it unlocked.
We put on our seatbelts and she started the car. As she pulled away from the curb, I said, ‘This sure beats walking.’
‘Glad to be of service, sir.’
It’s for the best, I told myself. Going back for another look at the girl’s house would’ve been a very bad idea.
Do yourself a favor and forget about her.
Eileen drove around the block, returned to Division, and turned left.
‘Is this the way you came?’ she asked.
‘I went on over to Franklin. Too many people walking dogs and stuff along here.’
‘Maybe that’s why it took you so long.’
‘Oh, I took a lot of detours.’
&
nbsp; ‘See any interesting sights?’
‘Not really. Just a lot of dark houses.’
‘It’s strange to be out this time of night,’ Eileen said. ‘Everything’s so quiet and still. It’s almost as if we’re the only people on the face of the earth.’
‘Yeah,’ I said.
And then I saw someone striding along the sidewalk on the right side of the street. A girl in a dark sweatshirt and trousers. She moved with a brisk and bouncy stride, arms swinging, ponytail bobbing and swaying behind her head.
My mystery girl.
She’s out?
She was out, all right.
As we drove by her, I turned my head to see her from the front.
‘What is it?’ Eileen asked.
I faced forward nonchalantly and said, ‘Just someone walking by.’
‘Maybe another donut hound,’ Eileen said.
‘Maybe so.’
Chapter Seven
‘You’re still in the place on Church Steet?’ she asked.
‘Yep.’
Last year, Eileen had been there fairly often for one reason or another ... always involving Holly. She often dropped Holly off or picked her up at my place. Sometimes, she came over for small get-togethers of one sort or another.
Eileen and I had even been alone with each other in my apartment now and then. It might be just the three of us, for instance, and Holly would disappear into the bathroom or run off on an errand. Nothing had ever happened while Holly was gone. If Eileen felt any attraction for me, she’d kept it to herself.
And though she was very beautiful and I liked her as a person, I’d never felt any desire for her. My primary desire in regard to Eileen had been for her to leave so Holly and I could start fooling around.
‘Are you in the same rooms and everything?’ Eileen asked.
‘Yeah.’
‘Doesn’t it bother you?
‘Doesn’t what?’
‘There must be a lot of memories.’
‘I guess.’
Guess? The final weeks of school last year, Holly had almost lived there. Now, every corner of every room, every piece of furniture, gave me sweet, sad memories of her. Though alive somewhere else (in Jay’s bed?), she haunted my apartment.
‘She was planning to move in this semester,’ I said.
‘I know. Have you thought about finding yourself a different place?’
‘It’d be a lot of trouble. Anyway, it’s no big deal.’
‘All those reminders ...’
‘Yeah, well. Life goes on.’
I can be full of clichés when I’ve got nothing to say.
That pretty much killed the conversation until we reached Church Street. The road had several churches on it. One of them was next door to the old, two-story brick apartment house where I lived.
‘That’d be enough to make me move out,’ Eileen said.
‘It doesn’t bother me much.’
‘I know. But it creeps me out.’
‘Maybe because you’re a heathen.’
She laughed. ‘Maybe because I’m not.’ She stopped at the curb in front of my building. Hand on the ignition key, she asked, ‘Mind if I come up for a minute?’
‘I... uh...’ Before I could decide where to go from there, Eileen spoke again.
‘I really need to use your bathroom. I’m sorry. I should’ve gone at the donut shop, I guess, but...’
‘No, that’s all right. Come on up.’
‘Thanks.’ She killed the headlights, shut off the engine and plucked out her ignition key. ‘I’ll make it quick,’ she said. ‘I promise.’
‘No problem,’ I said.
We hurried to the front door of the apartment building. I unlocked it and let us in. Then I eased the door shut. The interior was silent and smelled of stale cigarette smoke.
We stepped through the vestibule, turned to the right and walked softly, speaking not a word as we approached the landlords’ door.
Usually, it stood open.
The landlords, Mr and Mrs Fisher, would be inside with their television on. But they only pretended to be watching it. They were actually watching the corridor outside their door, which led to the only stairway. They seemed to have an abiding curiosity about the comings and goings of their tenants. I knew they would love to catch me going by with Eileen at this hour.
But this hour was apparently too late for them. Their door was shut. As we crept past it, I couldn’t even hear their television.
I half expected their door to fly open as we started to climb the stairs, but it didn’t. Finally, we reached the landing, made the turn and resumed climbing.
‘Safe,’ I whispered.
Eileen grinned.
Even though we didn’t have much to fear from the Fishers anymore, the late hour and the silence of the building made me reluctant to speak. Quietly, we reached the top of the stairs and followed the hallway to the door of my rooms. As I eased my key into the lock, I felt Eileen standing close behind me, not quite touching me.
She followed me in.
A couple of lamps were on. I’d left them that way before embarking on my walk.
I shut the door. Eileen put a hand on my shoulder and whispered, ‘I’ll just be a minute.’
‘You don’t need to whisper anymore.’
‘Okay,’ she said, a trifle more loudly.
Then she took her hand off my shoulder and hurried away. The bathroom was located off a narrow hall on the way to my bedroom. She vanished into the hall. A couple of seconds later, the door bumped shut.
While I waited for her, I took a quick look around. I hadn’t expected company. The living room was cluttered with books and magazines, notebooks and pens and so on. It wasn’t filthy, though. I’ve got no problem with clutter, but I like to keep things reasonably clean. For the quarters of a lone male student who’d spent the past weekend wallowing in despair, things didn’t look too bad.
I could hear Eileen peeing.
She hadn’t lied about needing to go.
I went over to the coffee table, found the remote, and turned my TV on.
A condom commercial. ‘... puts the pleasure back into safety.’
I changed channels. An ancient black-and-white movie showed Lon Chaney Jr running through a forest. Prom his scared and guilty look, I figured this must be The Wolfman.
The toilet flushed.
I put down the remote and stared at poor, doomed Lawrence Talbot.
‘Anything good on?’ Eileen asked as she came into the living room.
‘All the good stuff’s on now - in the dead waste and middle of the night ...’
‘When churchyards yawn,’ she added. Then she yawned, herself.
I yawned, too.
They’re contagious.
‘Well,’ she said. ‘I’d better get going. Thanks for the use of your facilities.’
‘Thanks for the ride.’
‘My pleasure.’ She reached the door ahead of me. Instead of opening it, however, she leaned her back against it, put out one of her hands and caressed my face. ‘Are you going to be all right?’
‘Sure.’
‘Are you sure?’
I shrugged.
‘I’m not so sure,’ she said. She took her hand away from my face, but kept on gazing into my eyes. She looked very intense and solemn. ‘That’s why I drove out there. You seemed so ... I don’t know, lost.’
‘Good word for it.’
‘I want you to be all right, Ed.’
I muttered, ‘Thanks.’
“Cause I know what it’s like.’
‘Yeah.’
‘To lose someone you love.’
I nodded.
‘It’s hard. It feels like the end of the world.’
‘Sort of.’
‘But it isn’t. It isn’t the end of the world. You go on. Even though you hurt, you go on. And good stuff does happen to you again. You still have the hurt, but there’s also the good stuff. And sometimes you even forget about the hurt.’
‘If you say so,’ I said.
‘I do. And I mean it.’
And then she glided forward away from the door and put her arms around me and kissed me. Her mouth tasted of lipstick and coffee and donuts. Her hands moved up and down my back. I felt her breasts pushing against me through our clothes. Then her hands went under the back of my shirt, so I put my hands under the back of her shirt. Her skin was warm and smooth all the way up from her waist to her shoulders.
What happened to her bra?
She must’ve taken it off in the bathroom.
She plotted this!
I wondered vaguely how much she’d plotted and how much had been spontaneous. I vaguely resented being tricked and manipulated. I vaguely knew I should stop this nonsense and politely ask her to leave.
But the smooth soft bareness of her back indicated a bare front.
She wouldn’t have taken off her bra unless she wanted me to go there. So I did. Soon, my hands were savoring the heft and smoothness of her breasts. She had bigger ones than Holly. When I fingered their nipples, she moaned into my mouth and writhed.
Then she unbuckled my belt. She unbuttoned my jeans and lowered my zipper and slipped her hand inside my underwear. Her fingers wrapped around me, smooth and cool.
Following her lead, I opened her jeans.
She had no underwear on.
I must’ve hesitated too long.
‘Touch me,’ she whispered.
So I put my hand inside the front of her jeans. The denim was damp against the backs of my fingers.
‘In,’ she whispered.
I did. She was all wet and slippery around my fingers.
Next thing you know, I was on my back on the living room carpet. We were both naked and Eileen was hunched over me, knees on the floor by my hips, hands clutching my shoulders, breasts swinging, head thrown back as she slid herself up and down on me, up and down.
We were still on the floor. Eileen was lying on top of me. We were sweaty and out of breath. I gently caressed her back.
She raised her head and looked me in the eyes. ‘Told you there’d be good things.’
‘Guess you were right.’
‘Not the end of the world?’ she asked.
‘Nope.’
‘Glad to hear it.’
Night in the Lonesome October Page 4
