Final Vinyl Days Read Online Free Page A

that had pulled up a chair to watch. Her unlikely underclothes, strapless bra and briefs in red-and-green striped cotton, were looped over the lamp that was bolted to the bedside table. He lay there watching her, trying to decide where to go from here. What did this mean? Were their lives irrevocably altered, or would they say good-bye and pretend it never happened? A long-distance relationship was the last thing he needed, that and an angry, hulking boyfriend, now standing seven feet tall with multiple tattoos and an arsenal. He had no desire to go through what he had just witnessed, this ceremony that might lead him right into his parents’ life, the ultimate sacrifice, thirty miserable years thrown down the sewer for the sake of
the child’s
well-being. But then again what
was
he waiting for? His own history offered none of the porch-sleeping comfort she had described.
    The last thing Eve had said before dozing off was that he shouldn’t let her sleep past four-thirty and already it was a quarter till five. He shook her gently and was greeted warmly, as if some part of her had not expected to see him there, and then she was in high gear, clothes retrieved and adjusted, fresh lipstick and mouthwash. He drove her to her car at the country club and, without meaning to, asked if he could see her again. Without breaking his stride or giving her opportunity to respond, he continued “and
if
I could see you, then
when
?” How much longer did she plan to live with this guy who obviously meant nothing to her?
    During the next two months they met six times, once in Atlanta (the only trace of his predecessor being a book about transcendental meditation, a makeshift bong, and one really ugly polyester blend shirt, which enabled him to replace his Mr. Wonderful image with one that made him question her taste), once in Washington, and four times in a Days Inn in Greensboro, North Carolina. They talked on the phone every other day. Adam was starting to feel an obligation. Once he even thought thewords
future
and
commitment
. He could foresee all the problems on the horizon:
where
would they choose to live? Would she even consider leaving the job that was going so well for her? God, would she have to have three children, just as there had been in her own family?
    â€œYou know this is never going to work,” he said, his hand slowly pointing from her chest to his own to make sure he was understood. She was in his sparse apartment, her hair still dripping from his shower, which she had quietly mentioned was a haven for fungus; she was wearing the flip-flops he kept just outside of the bathroom door.
    â€œWhy?” She absentmindedly picked up the magazine she had brought with her. A woman in a tweed blazer looked up provocatively from the slick page. She angled herself, terry cloth robe tied loosely. “You mean us?” She said the word
us
as if it had been there forever,
us
like life, truth, God, eternity. He nodded slowly, and she nervously picked the magazine back up, riffled the pages sending the heady floral fragrance advertised there into the room. “Why?”
    â€œI’m not sure.” He went over to his CD collection and began flipping through cases. “I’m just not sure.” What he was thinking was it’s now or never. Either we’re going to call it off, or we’re going to make a decision. He was thinking that tradition says
she
should be the one initiatingall of this and yet there she sat, calmly asking all of the questions.
    â€œIs it the North/South thing? I mean I never said I have to always live in Atlanta.” She waited, forehead furrowed while he shook his head. He had given up on the argument that DC was not “the North” and in fact was considered by many to be in “the South.”
    â€œWell, is it the Jew/Gentile thing? Because I really feel that I could go either way.” She paused, mouth twisted in thought. “I mean I