The Hinky Bearskin Rug (25 page)

“—then perhaps
I can bring you a whole man someday.”

Clay held his
breath. He caught a glimpse of her face past Randy’s head. He wished he hadn’t.
She looked hopeful and scared and angry and yearning all at the same time.

She put up her
chin. “Maybe I won’t be waiting. Maybe I’ll marry Clay.”

Holy
what-was-that?
Clay’s heart stood still.

Randy threw
him a glance.

Now was the
moment. If Randy ever intended to tell her about Wilma and mess this up for
Clay, he would do it now.

Randy’s eyes,
on Clay, were full of danger. He looked at Jewel. “Very well,” he snapped. “Commit
yourself to a smooth liar.”

Jewel reacted
badly. “I should prefer your crude, rude stinginess with the truth?”

“I?” Randy’s
voice rose. “How can I lie to you? In bed — what you call demonspace — we are
equals!”

“Not like
out
of bed, where you’re a lord and I’m
some serving-wench slut.” Jewel sounded like she was crying now. Clay’s chest
squeezed.

“I have never
said you were a servant! Yeoman class land-owner, at worst!”

She made a
noise like a stepped-on rat. “And still a slut, right?”

Randy put a
hand out, palm up. “You call yourself a slut, but I am a whore. I beg you —
beg
you to grant me the opportunity to
commune with other whores. I need to regain my self-regard. In whatever way
they can teach me.”

She drew back.
“That’s not good enough.”

“I don’t
despise you! I—” he lowered his voice. “I despise myself. As you despise
yourself. How can I heal the insults I have dealt you in my boorish ignorance
if I cannot make peace with myself?”

“Look, just
give me a straight answer. Is this curse over? Because I can’t b-babysit you
while you’re working there.”

“I — don’t
know.”

She leaned
forward, her voice full of rage.
“Yes or
no?”

Randy stood
still. Clay edged closer. Randy’s eyes were shut, or maybe he was looking down
that long English nose of his, thinking.

Then his gaze
lifted and met Clay’s, and Clay froze in his tracks.

He said, “Yes.”

She took a
step backward. “Well. All right, then.”

“What seems to
be the trouble?” said a new voice, and Clay spun around so fast he almost fell
into the fountain.

It was a cop.
His squad car idled, two wheels up on the plaza curb, behind the Tercel.

“Uh, just a
little domestic squabble, officer,” Clay said. Should he let this guy break it
up? Things were going so well. “They’ll be over it soon.”

“Fine, but you
can’t park here. If you move the vehicle now, I won’t write you a—oh, hey, is
that Jewel Heiss?” The cop walked up to the domestic squabble, grinning. “Hey,
babe, how are you? Haven’t seen you around the bowling alley lately.”

Jewel seemed
to recognize him. “Oh, hell.” She collapsed and sat on the curb.

“Well, okay,”
the cop said, his face falling. “I was just saying hi.”

Randy got his
briefcase out of the car and walked swiftly away across Wacker Drive.

Jewel looked
after him. To the cop she said, “I’m sorry, Ben, I didn’t mean—”

“I’ll take her
home now,” Clay said, coming up and getting hold of her hand. He pulled her to
her feet. “You okay? We can’t leave the car here, you know.”

“Yeah,
whatever,” she said distractedly. She watched Randy stride away, passing the
bridge leading to Jewel’s apartment, walking westward along the river.

“We appreciate
the warning,” Clay told the cop.

“Bye, Jewel,”
Officer Ben said sadly.

Clay got Jewel
in the passenger side and drove her home, his heart seething with terror and
glee.

In her
apartment, Jewel strode up and down, ranting and crying. Clay kept his temper.
I’ll win this one,
he chanted mentally,
I’ll win, I’ll win.

She yelled, “Three
months of day-in, day-out paranoia, and now this! What am I gonna tell Brit and
Nina? My roommate left me for a
porn
star?
Ugh, ugh, what was I
thinking,
I
hate
relationships, I don’t even
want
one, this is making me insane!”

Clay went to
the kitchen and silently nuked some cold pot stickers and a carton of leftover
General Tso.

She watched,
hiccupping. “I hate him.”

In the fridge
were a few stray plastic cups of sweet and sour sauce and pot sticker sauce.
Clay also found a white paper bag on the counter with one-and-a-half eaten cow
plops in it. He nibbled his way through the half and gave the other to her.

“He’s an
arrogant pig of an aristo,” she said when she had wolfed down her cow plop.

Sooner or later, she’ll notice I’m
here.

Oh, yeah?
Wilma said in his head.

He almost
jumped out of his skin. He thought,
You
shut up! Don’t talk to me right now!

The nuke
dinged. Clay ladled Thai food onto Jewel’s plate.

“I was sick of
bullying him to doing his own laundry.” Standing, she shoveled chicken into her
mouth with her fingers.

Clay kept his
gaze down.

At length she
looked up from her plate. “I like you. You’re easy.”

He smiled. “I
try to be.” His heart thumped.
Maybe I’ll
marry Clay.
She’d only said that to yank on Lord Randypants, but it made
him feel funny all over, in a good way. She looked up and took two steps toward
him, putting her greasy hand on his chest and ruining his shirt.

“Sorry I’m
being such a psycho. This,” she breathed deeply, “will blow over.”

He shook his
head, smiling.

“Really.” She
stood so close, he smelled sex on her. The porn factory, oh yeah, the bed in
the photo studio, right. Less than an hour ago. His short term memory seemed to
be leaking away, the closer she came.

She lifted her
face and he realized she was going to kiss him and he wasn’t ready. Why wasn’t
he
thinking?
Should he let her kiss
him or not? What would let him hold onto the situation? There was no telling
where it might go if he let her run things.

While he was
debating the point, she kissed his cheek.

Consolation
kiss. Not his favorite, but he took it for what it was worth. Her blue eyes had
red rims. She looked like a she-Viking in mourning. Clay lost every thought in
his head besides,
Beautiful.

Now will you try the feathers and ice
cubes?
Wilma said in
his head.

Oh, right. His
ace in the hole. Clay bit his lip. Looking in Jewel’s eyes, he thought,
I’d rather try something hinky. Something to
get her mind off the lord. Just her and me,
he added.
I don’t think she’s ready to meet you yet.

He turned away
and walked into the living room.

Jewel
followed. “I’m sorry,” she said, breaking in on the head chatter. “I forgot — I
didn’t consider your feelings.”

Oh, brother,
he
had
been indiscreet.

There’s a few things I think you should
know,
Wilma said.
About being my avatar. Because sometimes, if
someone needs me—

I need you to shut up!
he thought fiercely.
Whenever I’m with Jewel.
Darn, this was
hard, talking to Jewel and thinking at Wilma and listening to them both. Should
he be saying something to Jewel now? About considering his feelings, right.

“It’s okay.”
He put a bit of pathos into it, which wasn’t hard, considering his feelings. “I’m
a good crying towel.”

“You’re more
than that,” she said warmly, and he tightened, thinking,
Am I really, Jewel?

She smiled
shyly at him. He forgot completely to monitor what his face was doing.

Okay, Wilma, do your stuff. What kind
of fabulous sex hasn’t she had yet?

Wait
a minute. I’m going into her archives. Stall her.

Mentally, Clay
rolled his eyes. “I’d like to make you happy,” he murmured on autopilot. He
cupped Jewel’s face with both hands and stroked her cheeks with his thumbs,
trying to push aside a feeling that she could see right through him.

“Really?” She
blinked rapidly. “That’s nice.”

She was here,
and she’d said goodbye to the sex demon, and she was looking right at him.

Terrifying.

Can you hurry it up?
he said in his head to Wilma.

“I’m kind of
confused right now,” Jewel said.

“So kiss
confused.” He kissed her forehead.

I’m
working on it, I’m working on it. I’m not lightning-fast, you know. My, she has
been a busy girl. Are you sure you’re up to her?

Insecurity
clutched at his gut.
Not helping.

“It wouldn’t
be fair to you,” Jewel said.

Got it!
Wilma said.
Now kiss her!

Like he needed
advice on how to seduce a woman.

“Do me a
favor, Officer,” he murmured. “Be unfair for once.”

“But you—”

He silenced
her with his mouth, very gently. A tear leaked out of the corner of her eye and
he kissed that. He kissed her until his head swam, and then Wilma said
Here we go
in his head, and he felt
himself slipping into a beautiful dream.

After a long,
sweet, mindless kiss, he realized he smelled fresh-cut grass and hot sunshine
and rain on pavement, heard the spatter of water droplets and the distant sound
of children playing. He was falling into Jewel’s kiss. It felt sweet and solid
and real.

Then something
cold and slimy fell on the crook of his neck.

Right in his
ear, a dog barked.

He jerked his
head back.
Oh, for—

In his arms,
Jewel laughed.
She wants you to throw it.

Looking over
his shoulder, he saw a golden retriever staring at him with eager intensity.
Behind the dog was a white picket fence, a lawn sprinkler sending up a
glittering arc of spray, and a shady tree. And by his elbow on the grass lay a
slimy, green, dog-spit-covered tennis ball.

The dog barked
again. Clay was lying on the grass, his arms around Jewel. The cut-grass smell
mixed with her smell and it smelled like heaven.

He looked into
her face and saw her laughter turn to confusion.

That’s funny. The dog has a wig on,
she said.

It did. The
dog wore a mop of blonde curls.

He felt his
lips move.
Sex is supposed to be funny.
He didn’t dare tell Wilma to stop with the dog, because his thought would come
out loud and clear in this weird place.

Jewel heaved
herself onto one elbow, frowning
Where?
Where
“are we?” Her voice sounded in his head and in his ears.

The next moment, they were lying on her living room
floor.

Her face
twisted with growing horror. “Oh my
God!
Clay!”

She shoved him
away and leaped to her feet. With one hand she swept the afghan off the sofa,
and with the other she felt the upholstery, then lay her ear against it. “Randy?
Dammit, are you in there?” She did the same to the carpet.

Clay stood
beside her, watching disaster unfold.

She looked up
at him. “He’s not in there.” With a puzzled frown, she leaned her knuckles on
the sofa arm. Then she turned her back on Clay and sat, slumping.

Clay sat with
her, putting his arm around her. “I thought that was nice. Except for the slimy
wet tennis ball. I don’t know where that came from,” he added darkly.

Her hands made
fists on her thighs. “You said you thought maybe Randy was rubbing off on me.
That’s how you got into demonspace with us.”

His heart
stopped.

This was it.
She would find out about Wilma and kill him. Plus, she’d never speak to him
again. His mouth opened and closed.

“Is that so
bad?” he said weakly.

Her eyes grew
round, and she filled her lungs slowly, and then she screamed.

“Aaaaaughhhhh!”
She slapped her hands over her eyes.

“Maybe it was
the cow plops,” he suggested. “You’ve been exposed to hinky sex so long — maybe
they affect you more.”

“Oh, my
God!
I’ll never have normal sex again!”

“Jewel, it’s
not so bad—”

“Go home,” she
said from behind her hands. “I have to be hysterical now.”

“Jewel—”

“Go home!”
she screamed.

o0o

On the walk back to The Drake, Clay tried to explain to
Wilma why her contribution was such a disaster.

She didn’t get
it.
You don’t realize what an opportunity
this is,
she kept saying.

“I realize I’m screwed with Jewel if she finds out about
you.”

He felt sticky
and sweaty and used, and his two-hundred-dollar Hawaiian shirt smelled like
General Tso.

Jewel might
never touch him again.

“Why do I have
to be your avatar, anyway?”