Somebody said, “It’s just like Maury,” and both teenagers had their phones out now.
Mark said, “What the hell?”
Harlan said, “That’s right, asshole. I’m the father.”
Mark said, “You were screwing somebody else? This guy? So all that talk about me not wanting to marry you was just, what?” His eyes widened. “Oh. I get it. I get it. You get knocked up, and you think you’ll get me to marry you. Not this time, sister. No way. Just because you can’t keep your legs closed, that doesn’t mean I’m—”
Harlan was going for him, but Jennifer was already there, advancing on Mark like an avenging fury, shoving him in the chest with a hard palm, driving him back until he tripped over an end table and nearly fell. He came up spluttering, and she said, “Get out. You’ve got nothing to do with this. You’ve got nothing to do with me, because I dumped you and found a better man. You know why I’m moving? Because I’m going to live with him, that’s why! Because he asked me to. Me and Dyma. Because when he found out I was pregnant, he stepped up. He didn’t come ask me why I didn’t get an abortion and make his life easier! And I said yes. Know why? Do you?”
“Gee,” Mark said, “maybe because he’s worth about a hundred million bucks?” He looked at Harlan. “You’re taking the kid, too? Yeah, good luck with that. She’s a pain in the ass.”
“No,” Jennifer said. She was all but spitting now. “Because he’s ten times the man you are. He’s kinder. He’s stronger. He’s smarter. He’s … he’s funnier. And he’s so much better in bed, it was like waking up from a bad dream. Or just a boring dream. It was like … like going from eating bologna sandwiches out of a baggie to filet mignon on a china plate. And since I’m never going to want that rubbery, crappy bologna again in my life, you can Just. Get. Out.” Each of those last words was accompanied by another shove at his chest.
“Yeah?” Mark said. “What, he’s willing to wait an hour for you to come?”
The teenagers made some “Oh, my god” noises and kept filming, and Harlan stood back and crossed his arms. She was on a roll, no question about it.
“No,” Jennifer said, all but bouncing on her toes. “He’s willing to work an hour, if that’s what it takes. But guess what? It hardly takes any time at all, because he’s not rushing to get there, which means by the time he does, I actually want it. Oh, and he’s actually good at it, too. He can do things with his tongue that you can only dream about. He’s got positions. He can—”
That was when Harlan took a couple steps forward, got his arm around her waist, and said, “OK, baby, I think you told him. Don’t let everybody in on all my secret techniques, now.”
She stared at him like she’d just come out of the fog. He recognized the feeling. “I have more to say,” she informed him.
He laughed. “Yeah. I bet you do. But you know … they’re recording.”
“Oh.” She blinked at the two girls with the phones. “I don’t care. You don’t have to settle, girls,” she called out. “You can do better. You get to have an orgasm every time, too. If he’s not doing it, find somebody who will.”
“All righty, then,” Harlan said. “Step away from the microphone.”
Annabelle was laughing. Harlan had barely heard her laugh since she’d moved in, other than during his unfortunate swimsuit encounter, but she was sure as hell laughing now. Dyma was coming up the driveway, too, saying, “Mom? What’s going on? Oh, hi, Annabelle. And Harlan.”
“Harlan and your mom are kicking your mom’s old boyfriend to the curb,” Annabelle said. “It was epic. You missed it.”
“We’re posting it, Dyma,” one of the girls called out. “So you can see it. It was great.”
Mark pulled his shirt down around himself and said, “Good riddance. I can do better, too.”
“Yeah,” Harlan said. “That’s why you came over to beg her to take you back. There’s no ‘better,’ man. She’s as good as it gets, and you let her go. Your loss.”
Mark looked like he still wanted to say something, but he glanced at the cameras, told Jennifer, “You’ll be back, but don’t come crawling to me,” and left, getting up into the kind of truck that made you wonder what he was compensating for and gunning it down the street.
Harlan said, “Well, that was extremely exciting. How about if we go put some ice on that, uh … bruise? That looked like it hurt. And while we do that, you can tell me why you’re out on the sidewalk selling your stuff when you promised me you’d be taking it easy. I can’t wait to hear this.”
44
Bees in the Brain
She told Harlan, as he led her into the house, “I’m shaking. It’s like I’ve got bees in my brain. I could hit something. I could hurt something.”
“Oh, baby,” he said, “I think you already did. I’d call that a mortal blow to the ego. How much does that hurt?”
Oh. She had her hand on her breast. “Some. Oh—” She turned and called to Dyma, “You’re in charge for a little while, OK?”
Dyma waved at her, and Annabelle called out, “We’ve got it.”
They got into the apartment, and Harlan said, “Well, hell. Nothing but boxes in here.” He sat her down on a stack of two of them. “Right. Ice. Hang on.”
When he came back with a handful of ice wrapped in paper towels, she eyed it and said, “That’s going to hurt worse.”
“Ten minutes. You OK? Is there any … any danger in getting hit there, with pregnancy? Should I take you to the doctor? Man, I wish I’d taken him out. If you hadn’t stepped in there, I would’ve done it. ”
“I’m sure it’s fine. It just hurts more than usual, that’s all. Ow. And no, you shouldn’t have taken him out. Not on camera. How would that look? Also, he’s a cop. Well, a sheriff’s deputy. Which would make it a very bad idea.”
“I don’t care. It would’ve been worth it.” He sat down on a neighboring stack of boxes. “So. Garage sale. Why, exactly? I told you, you can store your stuff at my place. I’ve got a six-car garage, and I don’t have six cars.”
She sighed. All of a sudden, she was so tired. Of course, that tended to happen when you’d been packing every night after work, and you’d gotten up at five this morning to set up for your garage sale. “Where do you think this furniture came from? I saved everything that’s worth anything, or that I actually like. For the rest—I’ll go to more garage sales and thrift stores, that’s what, once I move out of your place. Which is three months after the baby, I’ve decided. I’m giving myself a maternity leave, but at the end of January, I’m gone, and we both … move on into our next chapter. Meanwhile, this is recyclable furniture, and I’m recycling it. Anyway, there’s only so big a U-Haul I’m willing to drive.”
He said, “I knew I should’ve said more about this. All of this. I should’ve asked more. Why would you be driving a U-Haul in the first place?”