She did not, however, say she was sorry.
‘Gonna be a long summer, I guess,’ she said, and rose, and turned her back, and went to her room.
When they were small, if ever one of them was being scolded, the other twin would burst into tears.
Mark did not begin crying now.
‘You okay?’ Carella asked him.
‘I feel like a rat.’
‘No,’ Carella said.
‘Because, you know, she’s right in a way. All the kids are smoking pot.’
‘You’re not,’ Carella said.
Mark looked at him.
Then he simply nodded, and went back to his Cheerios.
Carella hoped he’d got it.
* * * *
Kling still hadn’t called either one of them.
By ten thirty that Tuesday morning, he’d caught two hours’ sleep, made himself a cup of coffee, paced the apartment for ten minutes or so, and still didn’t know what he planned to do.
As it turned out, he didn’t have to do anything at all.
The two most recent women in his life had already made their own decisions.
* * * *
Sadie Harris was the first to call.
‘Hey, Bert,’ she said.
‘Sadie?’ he said. ‘Hi. I’ve been meaning to call you.’
‘Actually, I’m glad you didn’t,’ she said. ‘You were right, Bert.’
‘I was?’
‘I’m not a librarian.’
‘You’re not?’
‘I’m a hooker, Bert, you were right.’
‘If you’re kidding me
‘No, no, cross my heart, hope to die. I was lying about everything but my name, Bert. You got a free ride cause you’re so damn cute, be grateful. But given the circumstances… me black, you white… me hooker, you cop… me Jane, you Tarzan… I don’t think we should see each other again.’
‘Well, I’m not so sure
‘I am, Bert. Too risky, emotionally, and every other which way. So… have a nice week, be careful on the job, and don’t go picking up strange girls in bars no more. By the way, I don’t have anything you need to worry about. Good-bye, Bert,’ she said, and hung up.
* * * *
Sharyn called five minutes later.
‘I hope I’m not waking you, Bert,’ she said.
‘No, I’ve been up. In fact, I was just about to…”
‘I’ve given this a lot of thought,’ she said without preamble. ‘I know you think this was a simple misunderstanding, Bert, but I think it goes far beyond that. I think it goes to the very essence of our relationship. You followed me because you didn’t trust me, Bert…’
‘I was mistaken, I admit that. I’m sorry for what I…’
‘It’s not a matter of being mistaken, Bert, we both know you were mistaken. It’s that you simply didn’t trust me. And you didn’t trust me because I’m black.’
‘No.’
‘Yes. That’s what I think and that’s what I can’t get past, Bert. You didn’t trust me because I’m black. That’s what’s wrong here. And maybe that’s what’s wrong with America, too, but I don’t give a damn about what’s wrong with America. All I care about is how this affects me personally. I know I can’t live with it, Bert.’
The phone went silent.
‘You remember what we said after the first time we made love, Bert?’
‘Yes, I remember.’
‘I said, “Let’s give it an honest shot…’“
‘And I said, “Let’s.”‘
‘Bert,’ she said, and her voice caught. ‘You didn’t,’ she said, and hung up.
12.
AT 11:05 ON Sunday morning, the Fourth of July, Patricia Gomez rang the doorbell to Ollie’s apartment. She was wearing blue jeans, a white cotton blouse, and red sneakers, and she looked somewhat like a patriotic schoolgirl.
Ollie opened the door.
He honestly didn’t know whether the smile on his face was an anticipatory leer or just a happy welcoming grin.
‘Hey, Patricia,’ he said, ‘come on in.’