porked her in the first place, she wouldn’t have gotten mad at me when I said no.”
“I know, Nessy. Please don’t rub it in.”
“I told you she was a head case.”
“You were right.”
“Who’d you ball last night?”
“Patsy.”
Ness smiled. “Little Patsy Levington. What is she? Five feet even?”
“They all look the same lying down.”
There was a pause. Both men burst into hard laughter. They laughed until tears rolled down their eyes. Ness wiped his cheeks.
“So Patsy paid you two hundred, huh?”
“They all love to fuck a nigger, Nessy.”
“You ain’t much of a nigger, Jeffs.”
“That’s why I’m so perfect. Close enough to the real thing to be dangerous, but not so black so’s I’m …”
“Menacing.”
“That’s it, man. Whitey don’t like a menacing nigger.”
“God, I can’t believe she paid you two hundred.”
“You’re missing gold here. I keep telling you that.”
“And I keep telling you that if you don’t stop, you’re gonna be out on your butt.”
“I’m gonna stop—”
“Jeffs …”
“I am! I swear I am.” Jeffers laid the racket in his lap. “I’m gonna find a rich white girl—”
“Yeah, right!”
“Hold on … I’m gonna find a rich white girl who hates her father.”
“That’s a possibility.”
Jeffers smiled. “Get her to think of herself as real baaaad, ’cause she’s fuckin’ a black man.”
“Go on.”
“Maybe even knock her up …”
“There’s a thing out there called abortion.”
“Yeah, but I’m gonna pretend I want the baby.” Jeffers smiled. “The product of our luv.”
Ness laughed.
“Then …” Jeffers pointed his finger in the air. “Then I hit the old man up for cash. Bye-bye spa, bye-bye tennis. I’m outta here.”
Ness grinned and patted the tennis instructor’s shoulder. “Keep dreaming, Jeffs. It’s good for the soul.”
Jeffers gripped his racket and stood. “So we’re all squared away?”
“Almost.” Ness slowly rose off the bed, smiled, and unbuckled Jeffers’s belt. “You owe me, you know.”
“I know.”
“You haven’t even repaid me for Betham yet.”
“I know.”
“When Lilah asked, I never said a word—”
“I said I know!”
“No need to shout, Jeffs. Just setting the record straight.”
“When I score big, Mike, you’ll get half. I swear it. Half off the top.”
“No offense, Jeffs, but I’m not holding my breath.” Ness pulled Jeffers’s belt from the loops. Inside the money compartment was a fold of twenties. Two hundred even. Ness counted out five bills and stuffed them in his pocket. He placed the rest of the cash, along with the belt, into Jeffers’s palm. “Know what I’d do if I were you, Eub?”
“What?”
“I’d take a ten and buy a single long-stemmed red rose for Patsy. She’s got another week here. Now, I’d say ten bucks on a rose is a very good investment for the future.”
Jeffers relooped his belt around his waist and stowed the leftover twenties back in the compartment.
“Good idea?” Ness asked.
“Good idea,” Jeffers answered.
Decker swung his legs over the bed and sat up. A bad night’s sleep and it was slow going the next morning. Too bad people weren’t batteries because a jump start would have been nice.
The shower helped some; so did the sting of the aftershave. As he dressed, he thought about Rina. She was always energetic, but now she’d progressed into a superhuman industrious phase. She hadn’t only prepared a farmer-sized breakfast but had cooked the meal at five-thirty A.M., humming as she stirred and mixed and fried. At that hour, her only company had been the dog, the birds, and a few mourning doves. Half asleep, he conjured up a mental picture of her outfitted in a simple smock covered by an apron, dancing as she moved from chore to chore, talking to the animals—a pregnant Cinderella. He felt bad he wasn’t more of a Prince Charming.
Towel-drying his hair, he walked into the kitchen just as the phone rang. Rina beat him to it.
“Hello,” she sang into the mouthpiece.
There was a pause, followed by a husky female voice.
“May I speak to Peter, please?”
Decker saw Rina’s smile fade.
The husky voice said, “This is Peter Decker’s residence, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is,” Rina answered. “Who is this, please?”
“Lilah Brecht.”
Decker saw Rina’s eyes widen.
“Who is it?” Decker asked.
“Lilah Brecht.” Rina put her hand over the mouthpiece. “Why is she calling you?”
“Can I have the phone, Rina?”
Reluctantly, Rina handed him the receiver.
Decker smiled at his wife and said, “This is Decker. How’d you get my home phone number, Ms. Brecht?”
“Lilah.”
“How’d you get my number?”
“Peter, I’m very sorry to bother you at home. I tried calling the station … I am sorry.”
He rolled his tongue in his cheeks, glancing at Rina who now seemed more perplexed than angry. “What can I do for you?”
