Bobbie showed up twenty minutes late that Sunday morning. Vi got in the car and they set out for the Galleria-at-Bull-Run, which was not a mall, but an all, Bobbie said.
“They have one of everything,” Bobbie said, digging through her Fendi bag as she drove the Admiral’s Lexus down the highway to Bull Run. “It’s a goddamn Noah’s Ark of luxury retail.”
Vi took the bag from Bobbie. “You look at the road.”
Searching through the bag, Vi found old charge slips from the better stores in Washington, lipstick, Chap Stick, dirt, grit and several kinds of pills, sticks of gum and foil from the gum, an empty bottle of Visine, Kleenex in a travel pack, breath mints in a roll, condoms in a gold case with a snap, a nickel-plated Smith & Wesson Ladyliner nine, and a crumpled pack of Silks, Bobbie’s brand of cigarette.
“They have this one store,” said Bobbie, lighting up. “Little lingerie boutique, everything’s from France, shit’ll blow your mind. They cater only to the most elite mistresses in Washington, cabinet rank or higher, none of them dumpy congressional oversight babes, unless, I guess, you’re sleeping with the Whip.”
“Why would they let you in then?” Vi didn’t mean this the way it came out. She only meant that the Admiral, though rich and well connected, was not of cabinet rank.
Bobbie said, “Because they recognize in me a woman of rare taste, you pissy little cunt. We’ll stop at Neiman afterwards, get you something nice to wear. Remember, Vi, there’s no excuse for being plain.”
“I’m not plain, I’m functional.”
“Yes, but we can help you.”
They saw the first sign for the Galleria-at-Bull-Run and after that they watched the signs, searching the horizon for the megamall. Exit 8 was for long-term parking and tour buses. Exit 9 was for RVs needing sewer hookups.
Vi said, “You ever think of Felker?”
Bobbie said, “I do. That poor dear, dear man. I get weepy when I think of how he risked his life to save that dog.”
“No, he killed the dog. It was the baby that he saved.”
Bobbie said, “Well anyway, he risked his life and that’s what counts.”
They rode along and Bobbie talked about her wedding plans, a full-dress ceremony in the festive Pentagon Rotunda, big names on the guest list, senators and such, drinks and dinner for three hundred, on and on and on, the band, the wine, the parting gifts, the finger bowls and napkin rings. She had every detail nailed except the year. Vi was always glad when Bobbie talked about the napkin rings. It meant that Vi could just nod for a while and not have to listen very hard. All of this — planning for a wedding, shopping, lingerie, the compulsive gabbing — was Bobbie’s way of dealing with the stress of vacant mode.
“I want to get the Admiral something special,” Bobbie said. “Sort of a peace offering and early Valentine, me in something sinful. I want to make that motherfucker buckle at the knees.”
“Did you guys have a fight?”
“We’re adults, Vi. We don’t fight, we have miscommunications.”
“Did you guys have a miscommunication?”
“No, I understood him loud and clear.”
They got off at Exit 12 and trolled for a parking space. Bobbie saw one in the distance, but a sports car beat her to it. She found another spot farther out. They parked and caught the shuttle bus.
The bus was standing room, packed with shoppers going to the mall or riding with bulging bags to rejoin their cars. Vi and Bobbie pushed their way to the back and found two hanging straps not far apart.
They rode the bus around the mall to the grand entrance. They strolled the indoor boulevards of the Galleria. They stopped at the mall map and, after some cross-triangulation, found the you-are-here dot.
Vi said, “Okay, we’re there.” She consulted the directory. “What’s the name of this boutique?”
“It’s a secret,” Bobbie said. “Known only to the chosen few. They’re notoriously discreet — they have to be, with their clientele — so they keep the name and whereabouts a secret. Don’t bother with the map. I’m pretty sure it’s down by Sears.”
They started for the far end of the mall.
“How do they advertise,” said Vi, “if it’s such a fucking secret?”
“Legend, myth, word of mouth,” Bobbie said. “How did people advertise before advertising?”
“Do you know the name?”
“Of course I know the name. The Admiral and I, we travel in those circles, Vi. We go to parties, closed parties in large houses on tree-lined private drives.”
“So what is it? If you know, that is.”
“I just told you that I know. Don’t try and goad me into telling you the name.”
They kept walking.
“Oh all right,” said Bobbie, “but don’t tell a soul and for God’s sake don’t tell Herc Mercado. He’ll have every stripper in the District camped out at the door.”
They stopped at a pretzel cart. Bobbie whispered in Vi’s ear: “The name of the boutique is Inside the Beltway.”
“No really, what’s the name?”
“Isn’t it amazing, Vi? Makes me hot, just saying it. Inside the Beltway. Inside the Beltway. O, the way around my belt, power sleeping in my region. O, my hidden inner, my soft and rotten fruit. O, my throbbing Washington. Makes me want to touch myself, the name.”
“Why’s it in Virginia then?”
“The Beltway is a state of mind. Everyone has noticed this but you.”
They passed Neiman’s, Godiva, Pulitzer, and Wurlitzer.
“You know, sometimes I wonder,” Bobbie said.
“What?”
“I wonder if the Admiral’s using me, promising to marry me, promising and promising. I give him all I can, but he only wants more. Can I ask you something weird? Have you ever been with more than one man at the same time?”
Vi laughed. “I was with ten thousand men in Iowa last week.”
“Sexually I mean.”
Vi knew what she meant. “Can’t say as I have. Why — is the Admiral into that?”
“Every man is into that — you’re so fucking innocent. When I was your age, damn. I remember once in El Paso. I met these two cute postal inspectors at a weapons refresher. We went back to my place. It was nice. Even been with three men, Vi?”
Vi figured you had to be with two before you were allowed to move up. “Nope,” she said.
“I remember once in Crim, we hit a warrant on the border, this big ol’ hacienda in the desert. We seized eight million bucks in cash that day, a gloryosky stat, and some of us went upstairs to celebrate. I’m lying on this big old iron bed in this big adobe room, cash spread all around me. Me and these three agents — Lord, I wore ’em out. I felt sorry for those agents, afterwards. I saw ’em lying on the floor. They were young guys, they had their whole lives ahead of them, but they would never see another woman half the woman I was in that bedroom. One of the three was one of the two from the weapons refresher, just so you don’t think I’m a total fucking strumpet.”
They came to a cement oasis, a fountain, benches, and some palms.