lamp back to the floor, its delicate, pleated, ivory-colored shade coming dislodged. “Pick it up.”
Again, Suzy returned the lamp to the table. Again, he knocked it to the floor.
“Fix the goddamn shade.”
Suzy’s shaking fingers wrestled with the now severely dented shade, eventually succeeding in securing it in place.
“Now pick it up,” he directed again.
Suzy hurried to replace the lamp, but his arm was already descending. The lamp went shooting out of her hand, its shade coming loose and flying toward the ceiling, its coral-colored, oval-shaped base missing the end of the beige and green needlepoint carpet and shattering against the cold marble floor. “Oh, God,” Suzy cried as he lunged for her, dragging her to her feet and throwing her against the far wall. Beside her head, a famous black and white photograph of a sailor embracing a woman in the middle of Times Square at the end of World War II wobbled precariously for several seconds before dropping to the floor.
There was no stopping him now, Suzy knew, so she closed her eyes, gave herself over to his fists, and waited for it to be over.
SIX
F ORTY MINUTES LATER, TOM finally turned into his driveway on Northwest Fifty-sixth Street, in the so-run-down-it-was-almost-fashionable neighborhood of Morningside. Damn that Coral Gables anyway, he cursed silently. Finding your way out of there was almost as impossible as trying to navigate those damn caves in Afghanistan. Roads twisting this way and that without any rhyme or reason, dead ends popping up out of nowhere like snipers, streets doubling back on themselves like snakes. It was a miracle anyone ever got out of there. Three times he’d thought he’d escaped, only to find himself back on the same damn road. He’d been almost embarrassingly grateful when the massive, blocks-long concrete skeleton of the condo-and-shopping complex known as Midtown Miami suddenly loomed into view.
He turned off the car’s headlights and tossed a stick of Juicy Fruit into his mouth, on the slight chance Lainey was still up and he could persuade her to make him some tea, then proceeded slowly into the carport, shutting off the ignition and feeling the car shudder to a complete halt. Was Lainey watching him from an upstairs window? he wondered, opening the car door, his eyes scanning the exterior of the plain white, two-story house. Ostensibly, Lainey’s parents had bought them the house as a wedding gift, but it was registered only in Lainey’s name. Tom understood that, in the event of a divorce, he’d be out on his ear.
It wouldn’t be the first time he was out on the streets, he thought, remembering when his parents had kicked him out of the house after he’d been caught cheating on his final exams and was told he wouldn’t be graduating high school with Jeff and the rest of his friends. Jeff had immediately headed south to the University of Miami, while Tom had been stuck in dreary old Buffalo.
Without Jeff at his side, everything changed. Pretty girls no longer hovered; they didn’t tell him he had soulful brown eyes and a cute butt; their hands didn’t accidentally brush against his when they walked by; they no longer giggled and deserted their girlfriends when he beckoned. If anything, they avoided him entirely, unless it was to ask about Jeff. What was he doing these days? Was it true he’d dropped out of college, that he was thinking of settling permanently in Miami? Was he planning to come back for a visit any time soon, and did Tom happen to know when that might be?
Tom got a job at McDonald’s, then quit as soon as he’d saved up enough money to join Jeff in South Florida. He’d met Lainey within days of his arrival, and she’d glommed on to his side, like gum to the bottom of a shoe. Several months later, still reeling after a night of boozing and whoring, with Jeff egging him on, betting him a hundred bucks he didn’t have the guts, Tom had walked into an army recruitment office and
Again, Suzy returned the lamp to the table. Again, he knocked it to the floor.
“Fix the goddamn shade.”
Suzy’s shaking fingers wrestled with the now severely dented shade, eventually succeeding in securing it in place.
“Now pick it up,” he directed again.
Suzy hurried to replace the lamp, but his arm was already descending. The lamp went shooting out of her hand, its shade coming loose and flying toward the ceiling, its coral-colored, oval-shaped base missing the end of the beige and green needlepoint carpet and shattering against the cold marble floor. “Oh, God,” Suzy cried as he lunged for her, dragging her to her feet and throwing her against the far wall. Beside her head, a famous black and white photograph of a sailor embracing a woman in the middle of Times Square at the end of World War II wobbled precariously for several seconds before dropping to the floor.
There was no stopping him now, Suzy knew, so she closed her eyes, gave herself over to his fists, and waited for it to be over.
SIX
F ORTY MINUTES LATER, TOM finally turned into his driveway on Northwest Fifty-sixth Street, in the so-run-down-it-was-almost-fashionable neighborhood of Morningside. Damn that Coral Gables anyway, he cursed silently. Finding your way out of there was almost as impossible as trying to navigate those damn caves in Afghanistan. Roads twisting this way and that without any rhyme or reason, dead ends popping up out of nowhere like snipers, streets doubling back on themselves like snakes. It was a miracle anyone ever got out of there. Three times he’d thought he’d escaped, only to find himself back on the same damn road. He’d been almost embarrassingly grateful when the massive, blocks-long concrete skeleton of the condo-and-shopping complex known as Midtown Miami suddenly loomed into view.
He turned off the car’s headlights and tossed a stick of Juicy Fruit into his mouth, on the slight chance Lainey was still up and he could persuade her to make him some tea, then proceeded slowly into the carport, shutting off the ignition and feeling the car shudder to a complete halt. Was Lainey watching him from an upstairs window? he wondered, opening the car door, his eyes scanning the exterior of the plain white, two-story house. Ostensibly, Lainey’s parents had bought them the house as a wedding gift, but it was registered only in Lainey’s name. Tom understood that, in the event of a divorce, he’d be out on his ear.
It wouldn’t be the first time he was out on the streets, he thought, remembering when his parents had kicked him out of the house after he’d been caught cheating on his final exams and was told he wouldn’t be graduating high school with Jeff and the rest of his friends. Jeff had immediately headed south to the University of Miami, while Tom had been stuck in dreary old Buffalo.
Without Jeff at his side, everything changed. Pretty girls no longer hovered; they didn’t tell him he had soulful brown eyes and a cute butt; their hands didn’t accidentally brush against his when they walked by; they no longer giggled and deserted their girlfriends when he beckoned. If anything, they avoided him entirely, unless it was to ask about Jeff. What was he doing these days? Was it true he’d dropped out of college, that he was thinking of settling permanently in Miami? Was he planning to come back for a visit any time soon, and did Tom happen to know when that might be?
Tom got a job at McDonald’s, then quit as soon as he’d saved up enough money to join Jeff in South Florida. He’d met Lainey within days of his arrival, and she’d glommed on to his side, like gum to the bottom of a shoe. Several months later, still reeling after a night of boozing and whoring, with Jeff egging him on, betting him a hundred bucks he didn’t have the guts, Tom had walked into an army recruitment office and
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