Operation Gigolo. Vicki Lewis Thompson

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СКАЧАТЬ open duffel and wondered if he’d forgotten anything. Cigarettes. Lynn had said something about a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, but he’d given up smoking years ago. Then he remembered that Sam, another lawyer friend, had left half a pack behind over the weekend when he’d dropped over to watch a Cubs game on TV. Tony walked into the kitchen and rummaged through his catchall drawer until he found the cigarettes he’d tossed in there, meaning to return them.

      Shaking one out, he found matches in the same drawer and cupped the flame as he lit up. Funny how the action, after so many years, brought back the old swagger. It brought back a slight cough, too. He’d never been a heavy smoker, doing it more for effect than for the nicotine buzz. That had made quitting more bearable than it had been for some of his high-school pals. If he limited himself to one cigarette whenever he was around Lynn’s parents, he shouldn’t get hooked again.

      The doorbell rang, and he took another drag on the cigarette before walking over to let Michelle in.

      “Tony!” Sobbing, she flung herself dramatically into his arms.

      He damn near burned her with the cigarette as he caught her. “Easy, Michelle.” Holding the cigarette a safe distance away, he put an arm around her trembling shoulders and guided her to the couch. “What’s the problem?”

      She plopped down and gazed at him through brimming eyes. The glue on her right eyelash was failing, and the black fringe dangled from her eyelid, dancing like a drunk butterfly each time she blinked.

      “Eyelash alert,” he said automatically. He’d forgotten how lousy she’d always been at putting them on, but she persisted, believing that her own blond lashes were too short and undramatic. Her hair wasn’t as thick as she’d like it to be, either, and he knew that at this very moment she had fake hair fastened in with her own. He’d never been able to run his fingers through Michelle’s hair without danger of permanent injury from the metal clips.

      “Thanks.” She reached up and pulled the eyelash off, which left her with an interesting effect—one eye ready to party and the other one ready for sleep. She began to sniffle again and searched through her minuscule shoulder bag.

      “Damn, you can’t put anything in these. Do you have a—”

      “Here.” He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and handed it to her. As she blew her nose, he took another drag on the cigarette and stubbed it out in the ashtray.

      “Oh, Tony…” She wiped her eyes and took a shaky breath. “I should never have left you for Jerry.”

      His heart clutched. That had been what he’d wanted to hear for months, right? So why wasn’t he feeling a thrill of triumph, instead of this uneasy dread? “What’s happened?” he asked.

      “He sucks his teeth.”

      Tony laughed. It wasn’t a kind thing to do, and he controlled it as quickly as he could. “You didn’t notice that before?”

      “Well, sort of, but I didn’t think I’d care. Did you…did you ever notice that about him?”

      “Yeah, but when you’re playing handball it’s not a big item of concern.”

      “That’s not all. He wears some of his underwear until it’s dangling from the elastic by about three threads.” She glanced at Tony. “You knew that, too, didn’t you?”

      He shrugged. “We dressed in the same locker room. Sure I noticed.” After the fact, he wished he’d checked out Jerry’s studly endowments, too. The guy had stolen his wife, and Tony couldn’t help wondering if Jerry was more than a good listener.

      “I threw all the raggedy ones away today, and he yelled at me. Then I yelled at him about his teeth, and he yelled about stabbing himself on my hair clips, and then he said my eyelashes gave him a rash and looked stupid.”

      “Then he shouldn’t wear your eyelashes, should he?”

      She giggled. “You know what I mean. Do my eyelashes look stupid, Tony?”

      “Uh, not when they’re both attached.” Which was seldom, he remembered. But he’d loved her, idiosyncrasies and all.

      She sighed. “You were so easy to live with.”

      But she hadn’t been, he was remembering now. With each year, she’d needed more reassurance that she was beautiful and desirable. He’d grown tired of the constant questioning, and his answers must have become tired and clichéd, too. That could have had a lot to do with the Jerry episode. Nothing like an affair to shore up somebody’s ego.

      “I thought you were in love with Jerry,” he said quietly. He’d expected to feel pain when he said that, but miraculously, he didn’t.

      “I thought I was too, but how can you love somebody who sucks his teeth and wears Swiss-cheese underwear?”

      For the first time in the whole mess he was beginning to understand. He’d committed himself to love and cherish, in sickness and in health, through hairpieces and dangling eyelashes, but Michelle had been operating on a much shallower level. And she still was.

      She took a deep breath. “I thought about all this during the cab ride over here. I think you and I should give it another try.”

      “You spent the whole cab ride thinking about that?” He heard the sarcasm in his voice and decided that wouldn’t help matters. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

      “What was uncalled for?”

      He gazed at her. She hadn’t caught the sarcasm. For her, a cab ride across Chicago was plenty of time to consider changing her life, and the lives of those around her. Like so many others who came through his law office, he’d invested his love in the wrong person. But it didn’t seem to be invested there anymore. Still, they’d shared a lot, and he wanted her to be as happy as she could be, considering the emotional handicaps she had to overcome.

      “I don’t think getting back together is the answer,” he said gently.

      “But I do, Tony.”

      “Well, I don’t, and I’ll tell you why. One of the reasons you didn’t notice irritating little things about me was that I wasn’t here much. When I was, I was on my best behavior. Eventually, though, you’d find out that I whistle off-key and I’m a manic channel surfer.”

      “Your whistling’s cute.”

      “You haven’t heard much of it. I’ve been at the office, trying to forge this career. Ask Sam about my whistling.”

      “Whistling wouldn’t bother me. And you hardly ever watch TV.”

      “Ah, but one day I’ll have more time, and then I’d use that remote to drive you crazy.”

      “Tony, none of that matters. What matters is—”

      “What, Michelle? What matters?”

      “That we love each other.” Her blue eyes grew dreamy.

      He felt a nostalgic tug, remembering how he used to respond to that look of hers. “Ten months ago you told me you loved Jerry.”

      “I СКАЧАТЬ