46
PARTISAN REVIEW
the bristles, full of thick purple liquid, across her nail. It was aliI could
do not to kiss the white flesh and green veins of her instep.
Did she hear me groan? 1 thought I heard, up at the head of the bed,
another light laugh. She twisted to the side, where a pile of 45 RPM
records was stacked atop the spindle of her gramophone. She clicked it
on. She had all the latest hits. As I stroked and restroked the nails of her
toes I heard, first,
In the Cool, Cool, Cool of the Evening,
and then,
Come On-a-My House,
and then,
Your Cheating Heart.
From her end
at the top of the bed, and from where I knelt at the foot of it, we both
started singing, loudly, exaltingly, so that Patrizia could hear-hell, let
the whole neighborhood hear-a ballad: "Oh, oh, oh! Kisses Sweeter
than Wine!"
MARY HAD TAKEN A ROAST
BEEF
from the stand-alone freezer that morn–
ing, and that night we had it, with string beans and potatoes, for din–
ner. We ate silently through the salad, though Lotte did her best to
brighten the conversation. "( can't tell you boys how good it feels to be
home with you eating Mary's cooking and not sleeping in a hotel bed. I
certainly prefer my flowers to the Mayflower, ha ha ha! Even though it's
dark out I feel comforted by the thought that they are in the garden.
First thing tomorrow I am taking my scissors and making a big bouquet.
Isn't it strange how though I was born in Atlantic City, New Jersey, I do
not miss the East Coast in the least? Oh, I do not deny the charms of
the boardwalk and the jitneys and saltwater taffy; boys, we had a horse
that would jump off a steel tower into a tank of water. 1 remember my
father with his bicycle and his cigar collecting the rents from the Negro
people. Oh, and sneaking crab cakes into the house though they were
not kosher. What else? My sisters! The three sisters, just like in
Chekhov; but before you think 1 am completely dotty I am coming to
my point, which is that when 1 return to California with its tropical
flora and fauna-goodness,
cork
trees and the quail and the mountain
lions, which we used to hear roar: well, to me in the oddest way it's like
coming back to my childhood. I can't explain it. It's unnatural. Like the
way I
much
prefer swimming in a pool of chlorine and never once go
into the Atlantic or Pacific Oceans."
1 thought, a little rudely, that there really wasn't much of a mystery.
After all, it was only in California that her childhood fantasies, of being
rich and a kind of princess, had come true.
On cue, Sammy came in with the roast beef and took up his station
by Norman's chair. The strands of drool hung from his flews.
"Oh, don't!" said Lotte, as orman threw him a piece of meat.
