not vice versa. Women. Can't live with them, can't
live with them." He laughed.
He stole a quick look at me and walked to my
vanity table, where he checked himself in the mirror.
"I had a tough time getting back from Dallas. Plane
delays. cancellations, slept in an airport waiting for
the next flight, but does she take any of that into
consideration? No. All she knows is I missed a dinner
date. A dinner date. for crissakes! How important
could that have been?" He turned, his arms up. I was still staring at him. He dropped his arms to his side and looked at me askance. "What is supposed to be wrong with you? She tells me you're fine, but you fainted and did some wild off-the-wall thing with clothes and makeup." He smiled. "I would have thought you'd be more energetic, revived, ready to go out there and whip those college guys until they
begged for mercy. huh?"
My silence was making him more nervous. "Look," he said. "I heard you're going to see a
psychiatrist tomorrow. You know those guys can get
very nosy, poking their faces into your most intimate
secrets. You be careful about that. Most of the time
they're just plain pornographers, getting their kicks
from their patients' exciting experiences. Understand
what I'm saying. Grace? If this comes out like that. I
won't be the only one with any guilt. Your mother has
seen you with me. She even believes you have a crush
on me and that's why you don't go out. A man can be
seduced as easily as a woman. Remember that." he
said in a threatening tone, "You understand what I'm
telling you? Don't just sit there giving me the silent
treatment, Grace. Talk."
"Te suis fatigue de parter,' I said.
"Huh? What's that, French?" He tugged on his
ear like Humphrey Bogart and smiled. "My French is a bit rusty. What did you say? Something about being
tired?"
"Mais oui. Bon soir."