to completely cover her ears. The scratchy black fabric on them made Josie’s ears itch.
Sometimes Belinda let Josie try her Walkman, and even though no music came through, Josie wanted one of her own, to wear to school when she was old enough. Speaking into the phone, she pretended she was calling the Walkman place. “I want a red one with blue earphones. I hate black, don’t you? I don’t want the scratchy kind. The smooth kind. Okay? Okay. We have to wear them to school. Don’t forget. Call me back.”
Cass parked her car in front of the Star Market and waited for Billy. She had planned this carefully. She had asked him to call her at home before heading out to the hardware store, so that she could give him a list of things to pick up at the market. He’d called at four, said he was leaving, and she’d asked him to get milk and bread. Then she had immediately jumped into her car to intercept him.
But now it was four-thirty, there was no sign of Billy, she had grocery shopping to do, and she had to head home soon. He had taught her to drive in this exact spot. Back then, the parking-lotlights were on a timer. They’d switch off at ten. All their friends would meet up here, then fan out to parties, the beach, the highway to Providence. Then, when they were alone, Billy would slide under Cass into the passenger seat and she would climb behind the wheel.
With his arm around her, she would circumnavigate the dark lot. Every night the landmarks changed: a lone grocery cart, a discarded tire, the occasional parked Chevy. Vacant cars seemed mysterious and sexy, hinting of married lovers coming to meet in separate cars and going off together in one of them.
Some nights, when the tar was slick, she would drive in wide circles without braking, rings spiraling smaller as she increased her speed. Holding the wheel hard to the right, she would lean into Billy, her shoulder touching his, and he’d be laughing in her ear.
Then she’d tap the brake, tap it again easy, and pull the car into the darkest corner of the lot. She’d turn off the headlights. Billy would slide down in the seat. Cass would lie half on top of him, her lips kissing his, her back arched forward, leaving just enough room between their bodies to unbuckle his belt while he undid her buttons.
She sat still, watching the entrance where Billy would drive in. She checked her watch: four-forty-five. She thought of Josie, at home alone with Belinda and Emma. A chain of worship: Josie worshipped Belinda, Belinda worshipped Emma, and Emma worshipped herself. By now Emma would have finished teaching Belinda beauty secrets of the universe. In fifteen minutes Emma would ride her bike home, and Belinda would be itching to start her homework. With regret, Cass realized she had just enough time to buy the groceries.
Climbing out of the Volvo, she spied Billy driving in. Since he hadn’t known she had been planning to seduce him, she couldn’t justify the anger she felt at his being late.
“Groceries?” he asked, kissing her.
“Yes,” she said.
He caught her tone. “What?” he asked. “What did I do?”
Explaining it would sound so stupid: Well, I got Belinda to babysit so I could fuck your brains out …
“You followed me here, didn’t you?” he asked, grabbing her bottom.
“Yes, let’s have sex right …” She kicked away a piece of glass. “Here. Right on the tar,” she said, as if she were joking.
“Too hot, Cass. You’d melt it.” He mouthed the word
“Later.”
“What do you want for dinner?” Cass asked.
“I’ll come in with you,” Billy said, surprising her. About to head offshore again, he had work to do on the
Norboca.
“Good,” she said. “We’ll get done faster.”
“That anxious? Don’t worry—it’ll keep.” He brushed his crotch with a funny, crass gesture, but Cass didn’t smile. He grimaced, holding his index fingers twelve inches apart.
“Great timing,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
She shook
Sometimes Belinda let Josie try her Walkman, and even though no music came through, Josie wanted one of her own, to wear to school when she was old enough. Speaking into the phone, she pretended she was calling the Walkman place. “I want a red one with blue earphones. I hate black, don’t you? I don’t want the scratchy kind. The smooth kind. Okay? Okay. We have to wear them to school. Don’t forget. Call me back.”
Cass parked her car in front of the Star Market and waited for Billy. She had planned this carefully. She had asked him to call her at home before heading out to the hardware store, so that she could give him a list of things to pick up at the market. He’d called at four, said he was leaving, and she’d asked him to get milk and bread. Then she had immediately jumped into her car to intercept him.
But now it was four-thirty, there was no sign of Billy, she had grocery shopping to do, and she had to head home soon. He had taught her to drive in this exact spot. Back then, the parking-lotlights were on a timer. They’d switch off at ten. All their friends would meet up here, then fan out to parties, the beach, the highway to Providence. Then, when they were alone, Billy would slide under Cass into the passenger seat and she would climb behind the wheel.
With his arm around her, she would circumnavigate the dark lot. Every night the landmarks changed: a lone grocery cart, a discarded tire, the occasional parked Chevy. Vacant cars seemed mysterious and sexy, hinting of married lovers coming to meet in separate cars and going off together in one of them.
Some nights, when the tar was slick, she would drive in wide circles without braking, rings spiraling smaller as she increased her speed. Holding the wheel hard to the right, she would lean into Billy, her shoulder touching his, and he’d be laughing in her ear.
Then she’d tap the brake, tap it again easy, and pull the car into the darkest corner of the lot. She’d turn off the headlights. Billy would slide down in the seat. Cass would lie half on top of him, her lips kissing his, her back arched forward, leaving just enough room between their bodies to unbuckle his belt while he undid her buttons.
She sat still, watching the entrance where Billy would drive in. She checked her watch: four-forty-five. She thought of Josie, at home alone with Belinda and Emma. A chain of worship: Josie worshipped Belinda, Belinda worshipped Emma, and Emma worshipped herself. By now Emma would have finished teaching Belinda beauty secrets of the universe. In fifteen minutes Emma would ride her bike home, and Belinda would be itching to start her homework. With regret, Cass realized she had just enough time to buy the groceries.
Climbing out of the Volvo, she spied Billy driving in. Since he hadn’t known she had been planning to seduce him, she couldn’t justify the anger she felt at his being late.
“Groceries?” he asked, kissing her.
“Yes,” she said.
He caught her tone. “What?” he asked. “What did I do?”
Explaining it would sound so stupid: Well, I got Belinda to babysit so I could fuck your brains out …
“You followed me here, didn’t you?” he asked, grabbing her bottom.
“Yes, let’s have sex right …” She kicked away a piece of glass. “Here. Right on the tar,” she said, as if she were joking.
“Too hot, Cass. You’d melt it.” He mouthed the word
“Later.”
“What do you want for dinner?” Cass asked.
“I’ll come in with you,” Billy said, surprising her. About to head offshore again, he had work to do on the
Norboca.
“Good,” she said. “We’ll get done faster.”
“That anxious? Don’t worry—it’ll keep.” He brushed his crotch with a funny, crass gesture, but Cass didn’t smile. He grimaced, holding his index fingers twelve inches apart.
“Great timing,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
She shook
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