Carol Emshwiller by I Live & You

Author:I Live & You [Live, I & You]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-02-10T22:53:42+00:00

Every now and then I take a sip of your drinks. And on an empty stomach it takes even less. With the drone of your talk, talk, talking, I almost go to sleep.

But you’re heading upstairs already.

I crawl out from under the table and climb the stairs behind you. I’m as wobbly as you are. Actually I’m wobblier. We, all three, go into your bedroom. And the cat. You push the deadbolt. He wonders why.

“Aren’t you alone here?”

You say, “Not exactly.” And then, “I’ll tell you later.”

(You’re right, this certainly isn’t the time for a discussion about me.) First thing I grab our sexy nightie from the drawer. I get under the bed and put it on. That’s not easy, cramped up under there. For a few minutes I lose track of what’s happening above me. I comb my hair as you always have it, back away from your face. I have to use my fingers and I don’t have a mirror so I’m not sure how it comes out. I pinch my cheeks and bite my lips to make them redder.

The cat purrs.

I lean up to see what’s going on.

Nothing much so far. Even though tipsy, he seems shy. Inexperienced. I don’t think he’s ever been anybody’s grandfather.

(We’re, all of us, all of a piece. None of us has ever been anybody’s relative.) You look pretty much passed out. Or you’re pretending. Either way, it’s a good time for me to make an appearance.

I crawl out from under the bed and check myself in the mirror behind them. My hair is a mess but I look good in the silky nightgown. Better than you do in your stripes and red pants. By far.

I do a little sexy dance. I say, “She’s not Nora, I’m Nora. I’m the one wrote you that note.”

You sit up. You were faking being drunk. You think: Now I see who you are. Now I’ll get you. But you won’t.

I stroke the cat. Suggestively. He purrs. (The cat, I mean.) I purr. Suggestively.

I see his eyes light up. (The man’s, I mean.) Now there’ll be some action.

I say, “I don’t even know your name.”

He says, “Willard.”

I’m on his good side because I asked, and you’re not because you didn’t. All this talk, talk, talk, talk and you didn’t.

You slither away, down under the bed. You feel ashamed of yourself and yet curious. You wonder: How did you ever get yourself in this position, and what to do now? But I do know what to do. I give you a kick and hand you the cat.

Willard. Willard is a little confused. But eager. More than before. He likes the nightgown and says so.

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