Someone to Love Page 4

  At first Nina thought she wouldn’t go to the party, either. It wouldn’t be any fun without Mitch. But then, in one of those conversations Lynell and Sonia were always carrying on, Lynell had referred to her and Mitch as “the Siamese twins.”

  “I heard that, Lynell,” Nina had called from the kitchen where, much to his distress, she was rubbing flea powder into Emmett’s fur.

  Lynell appeared in the doorway. “Good. So I can ask you something I really want to know. Don’t you two guys ever get sick of hanging out together?”

  Did that mean she and beautiful Adam did? “No, never,” Nina said, and laughed heartlessly with pleasure. But later she decided she ought to go to the party alone. A little demonstration of independence. She’d go, and she’d have a damn good time!

  “So Mitch really isn’t going to show?” Sonia said, hanging up the dishcloth.

  “Nope. I’m on my own tonight.”

  “Know what Lynell calls you two?” Sonia’s lips were painted a vivid red, her eyes outlined in mascara. “The Siamese—”

  “I know,” Nina said, cutting her off.

  “Well, don’t take it to heart. And don’t tell Lynell I said so, but maybe she’s a little, little bit jealous.”

  “Oh, come on!” Nina smiled disbelievingly. “Lynell jealous of me?”

  “Not you, exactly. You and Mitch.”

  “Well, why? She’s got Adam.”

  “Yes, that’s the point.” Sonia’s eyes gleamed. “They’re having their problems.”

  “Oh! You mean the girl back home. But I thought he was going to straighten all that out.” Lynell and Adam had been having a passionate love affair for weeks before she discovered that he was also having a passionate love affair with a girl in his hometown of Flint. In his room one day she had seen a stack of blue envelopes, asked a few questions, and before she could say “Michigan,” Adam was telling all. And crying. Crying and crying, and begging Lynell to give him time to get it all straight.

  “He says he just hasn’t been able to bring himself to break Ms. Michigan’s heart by telling her about Lynell. Who, he says, is the true love of his life.”

  “A real prince,” Nina said, her heart rising in sympathy for Lynell. In fact, Adam did look princely. Tall, with an arched nose and an aristocratic bearing, he was one of the handsomest men Nina had ever seen. The first time she met him she had been so startled by his beauty, she had almost felt like curtsying. But there had been something else, something about his smile, a certain satisfaction, that made her wonder if, underneath his charm, he wasn’t a cold fish.

  “Sonia—” D.G. put his head in the door. “Oh, Nina, hi. I didn’t see you come in. Glad you’re here. Where’s the good friend?”

  “Didn’t feel like partying, D.G.,” Nina said. “I like your tie.” For the occasion D.G. was wearing a bright orange tie striped with black. He was a large, affable-looking person with a handsome, reddish face. If he could grow a bushy mustache, Nina thought, he would look exactly like one of those blustery-but-good-hearted colonels in some old English movie.

  “D.G.,” she said, smiling at him, “did you say you want to be a millionaire before—”

  “I’m thirty,” he confirmed. “But—” He raised a finger. “I didn’t say I want to be one, Nina. What I said was, I will be. I—”

  “No, no, no, don’t you dare get started on your Grand Plan.” Sonia gave D.G. a shove. “Come on, baby, get me out of this kitchen.”

  In the living room a large-boned young woman wearing a red flannel shirt stopped D.G. “Sweetie, where’s the prole you promised me?”

  “He didn’t come, Kath. It’s Nina’s boyfriend.”

  “Prole?” Nina said.

  “Proletarian,” Kath said importantly. “D.G. said your boyfriend dropped out of college.”

  “That’s right.”

  “And became a worker. With his hands.”

  “Yes,” Nina said.

  “Well, I’m writing my master’s thesis on college dropouts, and I really need case studies to illuminate my stats. I wanted to interview your boyfriend.”

  “Oh. Well, I’ll tell him.”

  “Damn! I was looking forward … Maybe you can help. Where does his family live? What’s their income status? Is he middle class, upper class, or lower class in his socioeconomic origins?”

  Nina stared. Then, as the bundle of weighty words sorted themselves out, she got mad. Here she was, back with the bluebirds and the buzzards. Only now they were upper class and lower class. Lower class! The words set her teeth on edge. That was her. That was her parents, and her brothers, and her grandmother.

  “I think,” she said, doing what for her was a good imitation of Lynell’s cool Californian tones, “Mitch was born a bluebird. But he’s a buzzard now.” Then she spoiled the whole effect by flushing violently.

  Kath shrugged and walked away. Nina moved across the room, stopping at a table loaded with food and bottles to refill her wine cup. By the window she saw Lynell talking to Adam. The heat in her face slowly subsided, and she watched Adam with interest for some sign of suffering. But with his high broad forehead and full lips, with his perfectly unwrinkled shirt and carefully knotted tie, Adam just didn’t look like a sufferer. In fact, hovering over Lynell, both hands on her arms, he seemed to be thoroughly happy. I bet, Nina thought, he enjoys having two women. And she couldn’t help being swept by a glow of satisfaction that her man was totally unlike either the selfish Adam or the stuffy D.G.

  Behind the hum of conversation was the throb of rock music. Some people were dancing, a lot more standing around, drinking and talking. It wasn’t a real Halloween party, not the kind she remembered as a kid, where they dunked for apples and played tricks in dark rooms. Not that she would have wanted a kids’ party! Still, after another cup of wine, a nostalgic glow for the good old Halloween parties enveloped her as she drifted around, listening to people talk.

  “He was awfully darling,” a girl in a striped jump suit said as Nina passed. “Everybody loved him. Me, too! But I decided not to let him know. I didn’t want to make his ego any bigger! Soooo, he thought I hated him!”

  Too bad Mitch wasn’t here. Was she the only single in the room? That made her feel a bit conspicuous. Did it make any sense that she’d come without him? Typical of her to do something like that on impulse. If she’d thought about it a bit more … Really, what difference did it make what Lynell thought about her and Mitch? Well, she was here now, and not about to run out early and then have to listen to Lynell’s little digs about her and Mitch not being able to spend two hours apart without going into shock. She finished her wine and took yet another cup. Might as well get high. It would make everything go more smoothly.

  “Do you know,” Nina overheard, “that there’s a column now like Dear Abby, only especially for people living together? They call it Hello, LTers.… Cute!”

  “So I told him making love would definitely wreck our relationship …”

  “No, no, overnight she changed. She was this terrific person, and then she got married, and suddenly she was Mrs. Bullshit.…”

  Was everyone talking about love and sex? Or was that all she picked up on her radar?

  More wine. Eavesdropping was fun. She hoped she could remember everything to tell Mitch and make him laugh.

  She sat down on the floor next to another girl who also seemed to be alone. “Hi, I’m Nina. I’m a friend of D.G.’s.”

  “I’m Sari. I’m a friend of Jake’s.”

  “Don’t know Jake, Sari.”

  “He’s one of the roommates. See him over there?” She pointed to a big, bearded bear of a man. “That’s Jake, a super person.”

  Nina gave Sari a dreamy smile. “Love your hair. It’s gorgeous.”

  “I haven’t cut it in fifteen years.” Sari’s hair hung in two thick braids down to her waist. “I woke up sad this morning, then I thought about my hair, and it made me feel better. I’ll never cut it. What’d you say your name was—Tina?”

>   “Nina.”

  “Right. Are you here with someone?”

  “No, my boyfriend stayed home.”

  “Are you living with him? I live with Steve. See him over there.” She pointed again to an intense-looking blond.

  “Cute,” Nina said appreciatively.

  “I know, he’s a darling. His main fault is he’s into engagements. Is your boyfriend into engagements? I don’t want to be tied down. Do you? Marriage is so end-of-the-line.” She leaned toward Nina. “I’ll tell you something else, Gina—”

  “Nina,” Nina said politely.

  “Kevin Porter lives with Kath Colson now—”

  “Kath, who’s doing her master’s thesis?”

  “Right. Big Kath. But last year Kevin Colson and I were living together. How-ever, not for long. I said, No thanks, bye-bye, you’re not my type. Fair enough, right? I got another guy, he’s got another girl. But everywhere I go these days, there he is—my ex. Do you think he follows me around? Do you think he’s giving me a message? I won’t talk to him. I refuse. If he asks what we’re talking about, you tell him I said, ‘Forget it, Kevin, we are a thing of the past.’”

  Nina hugged her knees, smiling out of her wine glow. What a funny, funny, weird conversation. If only Mitch were here; they would look at each other and … No, no, better that he wasn’t here; they would never be able to control their faces.

  “Dance, Nina?” It was D.G., standing, red-faced, over her.

  Nina stood up. Her head spun, and she held on to D.G.’s arm. “Great talking to you, Tina,” Sari said.

  “You, too, Mary.”

  “I think her name is Sari,” D.G. said as they started dancing.

  “Oh, really?” Nina said innocently. “Did I tell you I like your Halloween tie, D.G.?”

  “Yes, you did, Nina. And I like your dress. I really dig it.”

  It was a Pakistani dress, a soft purple, long and loose, that she’d bought a few weeks ago at the Thrift Shop Boutique.

  “And I also like your button,” she said, leaning close to read it. On the pocket of his shirt was pinned a green button that said, KISS ME, I AM COSMIC. “What does it mean?”

  “I don’t know. Sonia gave it to me.” The music changed to a slow beat, and D.G. pulled Nina closer. “You know, Nina, you’re very Mother Earth. I would just like to lie down somewhere with you. We could be cosmic together.”

  “D.G., you dog!”

  “Now don’t tell Sonia I said that. I’m just being truthful. I’m very attracted to you.”

  “Well, I—uh, thanks.” She thought her face must be as red as his.

  The music stopped. D.G. squeezed her hand and said he better go find Sonia. Nina wandered around the room and danced with a boy with a mole on his cheek who told her she had substantial vibrations.

  “Do you think I’m very Mother Earth?” she asked. She couldn’t stop smiling. Everything was vivid. She saw this … that … this … that … snatches of color and sound.…

  The room was hot. Nina pulled her dress out from her body and moved around, smiling at everyone. Nice people. Blessings on them. I, Nina, bless you one and all. In the kitchen D.G. and Sonia were wrapped together in a long kiss. “Ooops.” Nina backed out. They’re being cosmic together, she thought wisely.

  Oh, good. She was dancing again with the boy with the mole on his cheek. He hugged her. “I lu-uuuve parties,” Nina said. Wine again in the clever little paper cups with the clever little handles.

  The boy with the mole followed her around the room. And now D.G. was out of the kitchen and reading the stock market report out loud. “Boo! Hiss!”

  “Shut up, D.G.”

  “Price of steel rose point o—”

  “Sonia! Where’s Sonia? Sonia, shut him up, Sonia.”

  “No, leave D.G. alone,” Nina said. “Everybody should do what makes them happy.” How profound. She hugged a girl. “Are you happy, dear?” She climbed on a chair. “Everyone. Listen. I luuuuuuuuuuve Mitch.”

  His name brought tears to her eyes. Mitch! Poor Mitchell! Home all, all, all alone! She had left him all, all, all alone for hours and hours and hours. She had left him all, all, all alone while she was at a party having a wonderful time.

  “Selfish,” she muttered, finding her coat. “Sel-fish!”

  Outside, she scuffed leaves. Cold air. A smoky moon. “The moon in June,” she sang. Was she high? A bit. She stumbled. Yes, a teensy-weensy bit high. She held out her arms, rocked along. Wonderful party. Wonderful friends. Sonia. Lynell. D.G. Wonderful friends. Adam, too. Prince Adam. Wonderful, wonderful friends. True buddies of the heart. “The moon in June …” A car slowed down, the horn honked. “Hello, honey.”

  Girls weren’t supposed to walk the streets alone at night. Advice of everyone. Do not walk streets late at night. Phooey! She shook her fist at the car. “Bug off! You’re invading my space.”

  The car passed. She stared after it. Amazing. A-mazing. She was amazing.

  What lungs. “Bug off!” she roared to the empty street.

  “Nina, you’re drunk as a skunk,” Mitch said.

  Nina stood with dignity in the middle of the room. “I admit I am a teensy-weensy bit high. I admit I had a little wine.”

  “A little wine does this to you?” He laughed. “Give me your jacket, hon.” He pressed her into a chair.

  “Were you lonely?” she said, jumping up. “Was it awful being all, all, all alone? I’ll never leave you alone again.” She sat down on the mattress. “Does my breath smell, Mitchell? Do I smell like a wino? Am I too fat? Do you like Lynell? She’s beautiful, beautiful. Could be a model.”

  “Not my type,” he said, lying down next to her. “Too skinny.”

  “Mitch, Mr. Mole said I had substantial vibrations. D.G. said I was Mother Earth.” She covered Mitch’s face with kisses. “I told him, I luuu-uuuuve Mitch. I told everybody. I told them all. I luuu-uuuuve Mitch. You are the best. You are—”

  She fell asleep in midsentence and didn’t wake until the next morning. It was the first time she’d slept over at Mitch’s place.

  Chapter Six

  “You’re not really going to take it?” Nina said incredulously, caught between laughter and a sneaky desire to grab Mitch’s arm and hustle him on down the street.

  “Nina, it’s superb. Look at those lines.”

  She snorted, moving back a step from the old brown velvet armchair that was lying on its side on the edge of the gutter. Springs stuck out from the bottom, and in back the upholstery had a deep gash.

  Mitch stroked the carved wooden arms. “You don’t see stuff like this around anymore, hon. It’s a find.” He smacked the pillow. “Not even very dusty.”

  “Babyface. It’s someone else’s trash. My mother threw away a chair like that years ago.”

  “Maybe it’s the same one. Grab the legs, Nina, okay?”

  “You’re serious!”

  “I’m always serious. I’ll take the back, so I get the weight on me. Lift.” They moved down the street.

  “How’re you doing?” Mitch asked as they went up the stairs to his apartment.

  “Don’t ask!”

  “You’re out of shape, cream puff.”

  “Yesterday you said I was perfect.”

  “You are, you are. Just don’t get a job with a moving company.”

  Later, after beating the dust out of the chair, they sat in it together and ate Mallomars, licking the chocolate from each other’s fingers.

  On Friday that week they shopped together, buying cheese and grapes, bread, and tins of tuna fish, and cat food for Emmett. In the checkout line they stood behind an Asian couple, both wearing pale-yellow V-necked sweaters; both small, with delicate features and dark, shining hair. They weren’t holding hands or even standing especially close, but Nina whispered to Mitch, “They belong together.”

  “The sweaters are the give-away,” he whispered back.

  Nina shook her head. No, she would have known even if they hadn’t been wearing ma
tching yellow sweaters. There was something about the space they occupied, something beyond clothes or words. An aura that was almost visible, a coupleness that drew Nina’s eyes. She imagined them going home, taking out their package of bean sprouts, their four tangerines, their long stalk of bok choy, and quietly putting everything away. They would hardly speak, but in every gesture, in every glance that passed between them, would be an acknowledgment of their connection. She moved closer to Mitch.

  Over the weekend they played basketball in the park, Nina in gray sweats, Mitch with a bandanna tied around his forehead. The wind was strong, and they ran around yelling and shooting baskets, their hands becoming red and chapped. “Watch this!” Mitch threw the ball, a little awkwardly, off balance. The ball bounced off the rim. Nina caught it and laid it up neatly.

  Mitch, fancy, danced the ball around in a circle, pivoted, again somewhat awkwardly, and missed again. And again Nina put the ball through the hoop. She had played with her brothers for years, the hoop fastened over their garage door.

  “What is this?” Mitch said after she made a third basket.

  “I’m wearing my lucky shoelaces.”

  In Mitch’s apartment, later, they ate cheese and tomato sandwiches and listened to music. His “apartment” was, in fact, just one big room, plus a minuscule kitchen. On the floor under the front windows was his bed, a mattress with an Indian print blanket thrown over it. An old oak library table with two big drawers stood against one wall—he used it for reading and eating—the velvet armchair was in a corner, looking a little seedy; and over the library table, shelves Mitch had built were packed with his books and records.

  “I’m leaving early today,” Nina said. “I give you fair warning. I really have to get some studying done.”

  “What’s early?”

  “Fourish.”

  Mitch grinned. “That’s about right.”

  “P.M., buster, not A.M.”

  “Study here. I won’t bother you.”

  “Ha! to that. You’re incapable of keeping your hands to yourself.”

  “You’re a fine one to talk. You never leave me alone. I’m in constant danger of being molested by you.”

  “That’s true.”